Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 21

Ryan felt the warning zip of adrenaline snake up his spine at the smile on Carlos' face. His hand was reaching for his pistol before his mind even thought to, the cool gun metal slipping between his fingers and drawing from his waistband at the same time two of Carlos henchmen aimed their automatic rifles at his chest. 

Carlos leaned back, completely at ease, that same sickly smirk on his sharp-featured face.

"Vaya, ¿qué carajo está pasando, hermano?" *Woah, what the fuck is going on, brother? Esteban stumbled out of the house with a fresh tequila tumbler in hand, Carlos not even bothering to turn toward his brother as he addressed him.

"Vuelve adentro, Esteban. Ya no eres necesario." *Go back inside, brother. You're no longer needed.

Ryan's gun was still aimed directly at Carlos' forehead, his hand smooth and without a shake. The adrenaline almost felt like home, his capacity to fear blunted by the number of times he'd found himself in a position like this one.

But then his thoughts flashed to Camila. Still inside with Rodrigo. And he immediately regretted bringing her here into this setup. 

"Put the gun down, gringo. We all know who you really are."

"Not until you let her go." Ryan's voice returned to his usual deep, indifferent timber, no longer bothering with the cocky American act.

Carlos cocked his head and the movement had Ryan squinting his eyes. "You sure about that, Agent McCallister?" 

Ryan heard the backdoor slide open as Rodrigo and Camila entered the patio, Camila's face tense, her eyes widening as she took in the scene playing out on the patio. But there was no shock on her lovely features, only fear.

And perhaps something that looked oddly like guilt.

"Let her go?" Rodrigo drawled, his demeanor now so much like his father's--wicked and lazy as if the world operated at his very command. "Gringo, ay dios mio, carina is one of us my friend." *White man, oh my god, the beauty is one of us my friend.

Ryan stiffened, his fingers clenching around the grip of his gun, his finger itching in the trigger guard as his blue eyes found Camila's. She could only hold his gaze before she glanced toward the ground, shame blanketing her shoulders. And that was all it took for Ryan to know that she'd played him. 

That the lack of information in her file was far more sinister than anyone had imagined. 

"You really didn't know?" Carlos clicked his tongue as she shook his head in mock disapproval. "For an agent with your rap sheet, gringo, I'm surprised you never caught on. I guess even men such as yourself aren't immune to the wiles of such a beautiful creature like Mercedes." 

"Mercedes?" The name slipped out of Ryan's mouth before he could stop himself, a string of curses flooding through his mind. 

"Yes." Rodrigo smiled, tightly gripping Camila's elbow as he shoved her forward, his hand so tight it would leave a bruise. "Mercedes Benitez, daughter of the Benitez Cartel." 

"Fuck." Ryan bit out the curse, his vision rimming in a red haze.

"Why don't you drop your gun, Agent McCallister." Carlos leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he brought his forehead arrogantly close to the barrel of Ryan's gun, his dark eyes flashing wickedly. 

Ryan dropped the gun, his face stony and impassive as he leaned back on the couch, no sign of fear at the two guns aimed at his chest, only betrayal and determination solidifying his features into a stone cold killer.

Into Sangfroid.

Camila kept her gaze on the ground, a fear unexpected and silent tears rolling down her cheeks and hitting the patio deck at the realization of who she'd become. At what she'd become. No better than her father. No better than the Sinaloa men. No better than the devil she'd made a deal with for her life. 

It wasn't supposed to feel like this. Like failure. It was supposed to feel like freedom. 

And yet, no hint of relief rushed through her veins like she'd daydreamed on more occasions than she could count. She felt like a coward. 

"Mercedes here could've been the Queen of the Cartel," Carlos gestured behind him at a shaking Camila, his lips curling back from his teeth. "She was to be wed to my son, solidifying the Sinaloa-Benitez alliance." 

Ryan clenched his teeth together, his mind slowing as he took in each word. As he memorized the faces of everyone on the patio, lowering his heartbeat in that way that only he could when faced with death--it was this ability that made him. That gave him his nickname. That made him confident even in the face of certain death that he'd make it out alive.

And not because he wanted to live. He'd long since abandoned that desire the day Amelia was caught in the crosshairs, the only time he'd allowed himself to live for something again after his entire elite force was slain in a bombing in Afghanistan except for him. 

No, Ryan McCallister wasn't driven by a desire to live.

He was driven by a desire to kill. 

And the desire now included the most beautiful woman he'd ever felt beneath his palms, wrapped around his cock. Mercedes Benitez.

"Do your worst." Ryan kept his arms outstretched along the back of the outdoor couch, his indifference causing a small twitch in Carlos Sinaloa's jaw before the cartel kingpin shut it down. 

"Take him." Keeping their guns aimed at his chest, the two henchmen stood, pressing the barrel to Ryan's chest and back as they nudged for him to stand, leading him past Camila and Rodrigo and toward the house.

As Ryan passed Camila, his voice turned to a dark growl, to a command no one could disobey. "Look at me, Camila." 

She lifted her head, her lovely dark eyes red-rimmed and haunted, her olive skin wet with tears. She shook, her body trembling despite the warmth of the afternoon as her stare met his, an earnest apology in her gaze.

Ryan felt nothing. He memorized the lovely lines of her face, the silky wave of her dark that crested past her shoulders, the subtle rise and fall of her breasts as she inhaled uncertain breaths. 

And he visualized how he'd kill her.

Camila saw it then too, the way his eyes turned to ice-cold water, as blue as the deepest depths of the ocean, as unforgiving as Mother Nature in the fury of a hurricane storm. 

She may have traded his life for her freedom, but she saw that lethal promise in his stare. She'd lost her soul. And Ryan McCallister would come back for her body, for her final breath, even if it was the last thing he did.

Camila felt her teeth rattle with a chatter as Ryan swept his gaze away, dismissing her. The automatic rifles stayed pressed to his back as the guards barked at him crudely in Spanish, leading him back inside the house and off of the patio. 

Camila wrung her hands together until they disappeared into the house. 

"My, my, carina," Carlos stood, turning to face her as he elegantly wiped his palms down the front of his slacks even though there wasn't a wrinkle to be found. "I knew that man fucked you, but what else did he do to you? You're shaking even though he has two guns aimed at his back and no way to defend himself." 

Camila exhaled roughly through clenched teeth, lifting her chin and willing her tears to stop. These men underestimated Ryan. They didn't see what she saw behind his eyes. As much as Ryan hated her, she still hoped he'd find a way to kill the Sinaloa men, nearly prayed for it in the darkness of her mind even if she knew she would be his final target. 

"Quiero mis papeles." *I want my papers. Camila curled her fingers into fists, digging her nails into the tender flesh of her palms to control the fear and regret coursing through her veins. 

"In such a hurry, this one." Rodrigo wrenched her elbow painfully, addressing his father as if she wasn't even there on the patio wit them.

"Dejémosla por la noche. Quiere asegurarse de que realmente valga la pena intercambiar por este agente." *Let's keep her for the night. Want to make sure this agent is really worth the trade. Carlos didn't even bother looking at her as he addressed his son before slipping back inside the house, his stark features cruel and sinister. 

Camila wanted to scream. To demand that they let her go now, but the hold on her elbow only increased in force as Rodrigo stared wickedly down at her, dragging her back inside the house after his father.