Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 10

Isabella changed out of her dress and into a pair of jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and waited on the edge of the bed. There was a new anxiety coursing through her body. The fear subsided as the tension in her body built, the feeling of Rafael's strong hand gripping her throat, then her thigh under the table. The anger at not being able to control her life, not being able to call her mother and aunt. The unfinished sentence that was her current existence where she had no idea what was coming next. She may have grown up sheltered but she'd always had a fire and an independence within her that felt stifled and choked like smoke, rising in this small room in God-knows-where Mexico.

The door flew open and Rafael stood in the doorway, a pistol in his hand pointed at the ground. Isabella's racing heart stopped for a moment, the horrific thought that this was it. He was done with her. She'd given him the performance he needed. Isabella scooted back on the bed, the movement futile since she had nowhere to hide from this man. But something about the potential finality of her life had her staring daggers back at him anyway.

"Isabella, come with me. Now." Rafael gestured with the gun, his brows furrowed.

"No."

"What?" Rafael spit the word out, his impatience growing. Clearly he wasn't used to anyone disobeying his orders.

"If you're going to shoot me, then just do it here."

"Fuck, Isabella." Rafael moved into the room quickly and she brought her hands up protectively over her face, the survival instinct in her acting out of desperation.

"Isabella," Rafael shoved his pistol into the back of his waistband and grabbed her arms, his strength diluting any physical power she had. "Look at me, carina." His words were a growl and Isabella reluctantly opened her eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly.

"Just. Do. It." Isabella's voice was staccato, barely any air left in her lungs.

Rafael didn't respond, his facial expression haunted. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, removing his pistol from his waistband. He banded his other arm over the backs of her thighs. Her screams were feral and his grip tightened.

"Stop. Screaming." Isabella's body fell limp after a few more futile attempts to free herself. She felt herself going to a dark, blank space within her core, the upside down view she had of the hacienda falling away from her vision like she wasn't really present. She faintly heard voices talking and loud footsteps moving quickly around but it was like she was under water, submerged from reality to protect herself.

"Twenty minutes out," Martín spoke quickly to his boss, gesturing his head toward a hallway.

"If you need backup, tell me," Rafael ground the words out, his body tense.

"No, Jefe."

"I'm the boss of you, Martín. Remember that." Rafael continued further down the hallway, pounding his fist swiftly against a wall panel that opened up to reveal a metal door with a complex keypad. He squatted a few inches, the tips of Isabella's hair brushing the ground, as he met the scanner at eye-level. The metal door clicked open and Rafael moved through. Once inside, he flipped her over and set her down on a large leather sofa before turning back to the door and securing it closed.

Isabella's eyes darted around the dark, warm space. It had concrete floors and no windows. She watched as Rafael removed his white dress shirt, his back tattoos and scars on full display. He reached inside of a cabinet and pulled out a black t-shirt. As he slid it over his head, Isabella watched the movement of his defined muscles, her eyes tracking down all the way to the pistol once again securely tucked into the waistband of his slacks.