Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Miguel shivered, and his gaze gravitated beyond the terrace, to the caimans munching on Oscar. His own fate could have been so much worse if Nero hadn’t intervened. And if Nero didn’t believe he could take over, then he really was a dead man walking.
Nero had said he’d considered leaving and starting a different life somewhere beyond the reach of his father’s cartel. Miguel could give him that much before ending his ordeal on this earth.
“Fine. I’ll help you find safety, but we need to go now.”
He turned to the house, like a train changing tracks to a new route after almost twenty years of serving a single line. The wheels started turning and steam rose in his mind. Motion. They needed to be in motion.
“Thank you, kind sir. I am amazed by your generosity,” Nero said, rushing after him. They didn’t bother to get inside the house, and went along the facade of the villa, straight to where a large white Hummer was parked.
Miguel ignored the sarcasm, gaining momentum on his new path. “Just get in the goddamn car,” he said and took the driver’s seat. The keys were still in the ignition, as if prepared for their flight, but Miguel wouldn’t consider fate a factor in their escape.
The interior was all wood and crocodile leather—obscenely expensive customisation that could only be justified if this was Raul Moreno’s own car. But Miguel didn’t care that the steering wheel in his hand used to be handled by the Cannibal’s unclean fingers. He had a new assignment, and it took priority over anything else.
He stepped on the gas the moment Nero parked his ass in the passenger seat, and shot up the long, winding driveway they’d both walked less than an hour ago. The guys at the gate would have surely thought the shots were part of Oscar’s torture, but if they were to flee, they needed to be gone by the time Cano and his boy were back.
“Rawr, Miguel, murder makes you bossy,” Nero said and buckled the seatbelt lined with ocelot fur.
So this was what Miguel would have to endure until Nero was safe. He probably deserved it. “Someone has to take the lead on this. Why are you joking around? This is serious! I just killed your father!”
“I had no warm feelings for my father. What did you expect? That I shed tears for that bastard?” Nero snapped as Miguel accelerated on straight stretches of the road and slowed down ahead of the bends. “Have you met me?”
Miguel glanced at Nero who wasn’t even wearing a shirt. Just an hour ago, they’d been hooked up to IVs after a crazy night out sparked by Nero’s decision to obstruct the delivery of his father’s ‘cargo’.
Maybe it would have been smarter if Miguel had gotten his hands on Moreno when Nero was away, but the opportunity had presented itself and he’d gone for it.
“Are you telling me that you, a man with caimans etched into every fucking part of his body, now doesn’t want to have anything to do with the organization those tattoos represent?” He gestured to the massive reptile on Nero’s chest.
Nero chuckled and pulled his fingertips over the scarification designed to imitate the hard nubs of a crocodilian’s back. “There was a time when I really wanted to be one of the guys. And then I figured it sent a message. How is that different from the ink on your face, huh?” he asked and brushed his knuckle over the little skulls above Miguel’s brow.
Miguel huffed and slapped his hand away so abruptly it made the car swerve to the other side of the road. “Don’t touch me! That’s exactly what they’re for. So fuckers know to avoid me me.”
Nero let his head fall back and laughed. “Doesn’t work on me, darling. I’m using the same strategy, remember?”
Miguel stepped on the pedal too harshly, thrown off balance by all this craziness. He had no idea where they would even go once they left the property. “Yes, you are. And I didn’t put my hands on you.”
“But you could.”
Miguel’s mouth dried, and he gave Nero another once over. The fucker caught him doing it and stretched, presenting himself like a slab of fresh meat ready to be seasoned and grilled.
Could Miguel really go for it? He wasn’t even supposed to be alive at this point so what would it matter if—
He turned the corner to see the gate open halfway for Cano’s vehicle.
Chapter 12
Nero
Nero had no idea who the man behind the steering wheel was. He’d covered his nerves with jokes and anger, but he was freaking out. Nero considered himself a decent judge of character, and in the three years they’d known one another, he’d figured Miguel was a ruthless man with a chip on his shoulder, who had a bit of a mean streak and didn’t fuck around. But in the last twenty-four hours, he’d learned that the bastard could dance, had a mother, and maybe—just maybe—was more emotional than he’d let on.