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)
The tattoo on Miguel’s back was a work of art, almost as beautiful as the firm muscle under inked skin, and Nero found it hard not to stare at it when Miguel walked over to the fridge and grabbed a chilled bottle.
“Would you like one, sir?” Miguel asked, despite already holding two.
Nero’s heart skipped a beat when he realized one was surely meant for him. Miguel had spoken of their friendship, but was that all he wanted, or would he eventually cave under the right pressure? Nero had been pushing him in the direction he desired for a while now, but he was beginning to think a more tender approach would be appropriate for this hot-blooded reptile. He’d once read about scientists finding that one species of lizards had their blood heat up in mating season, so—
Nero’s racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Miguel put the beers on a table by Father’s sunchair and sent Nero the most brilliant smile. It was toothy, and reached all the way to the dark eyes, making them twinkle like crystals. So fucking sexy Nero could eat him raw.
He lost the bet. Miguel lost their bet. On purpose.
Nero swallowed, wiping his sweaty palms on his blood-splattered pants, but before he could respond in any meaningful way, Miguel reached for the gun he’d left on top of his T-shirt, pointed it at Father’s chest, and pulled the trigger three times.
Chapter 11
Miguel
The shocked look on Raul Moreno’s face was what Miguel had longed to see for all these years. It didn’t matter that The Cannibal remained ignorant about why he was dying, and while it would have been satisfying to make Raul Moreno suffer, Miguel couldn’t risk giving him the slightest chance of getting out alive.
The bullets went straight for the heart and did the job.
Miguel closed his eyes, spread his arms, and awaited the ripping pain of bullets piercing his body until no piece of him was left untouched. He couldn’t outrun this. Not with Nero and the two bodyguards so close. And with his job finished, what would he even run to?
His head was still ringing when he heard the first shot. It must have missed him, because all he could feel was the sunshine frying his skin and the euphoria boiling in his chest. Voices came to him dulled, as if he were locked inside a cube of thick glass, but after only two more bangs, there was silence, and he remained standing.
Untouched.
Or had he been put down so fast he hadn’t felt any pain and was now stuck forever in Purgatory?
Wood scratched against stone, and someone gave his breastbone a shove, ripping him out of bliss.
“What the hell?”
Confused, elated, and with his brain throbbing, Miguel opened his eyes to face… Nero. He glanced around to find one of Raul’s bodyguards lying face-down on the concrete by the pool and the other floating in the water, which was gradually turning red around him.
“W-what?” Miguel patted his chest, shocked to find it whole.
Nero’s face twisted and he gave Miguel another shove. “Fuck you! I invite you here, and the first thing you do is kill my father?”
Old Moreno lay dead behind him, body slumped on the sunchair with blood dripping from open lips and staining the cotton robe.
Miguel took a step back, trembling with the buzz of the murder, yet somewhat… underwhelmed? “Why didn’t you shoot me?” he asked, surprised by the rasp in his voice, but his mind was already suggesting that Nero wanted to see him eaten by the caimans, since a quick death by gun would have been mercy.
A storm was coming Nero’s way because of Miguel’s actions, and he didn’t deserve it. He was one of the good ones. For a cartel man.
Nero spread his arms in a rapid gesture. His eyes were wide, and perspiration shone on his dark skin. “Why did you shoot him?”
“I asked first—”
“You shot first!” Another shove, but instead of emptying his magazine into Miguel, Nero shoved his gun into the holster hanging at his hip.
Only then, Miguel’s brain caught up with what happened. “You killed the bodyguards. Instead of me.” He frowned, now ashamed of the smile he sent Nero’s way as a final goodbye. It was meant to communicate that Miguel did like him regardless of his hate for Raul Moreno.
But since he wasn’t dead, it just meant he’d lost the damn bet.
Nero rubbed his short green hair. “Why the fuck would I have let those two fuckers shoot you? They'd go for me next now that Father’s gone!”
“Because… I shot their boss. Your father. You know there’s no other way, right?” Miguel became serious and raised his hands in defeat. This was the end of the line. It had to be.
Nero’s eyes were green as the algae on the surface of the swamp that would soon take Miguel’s life, and they passed up and down his body in a rapid sequence. “Put those damn hands down, or I’m gonna kick you in the nuts so hard you’ll go swimming with Mouse,” Nero growled, gesturing at the dead body floating in the water.