Magnate (Acquisition Series Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Stella

“Not a word.”
The voice in my ear was low and heavily accented. “Where is jefe? What room is his? This one?”

I shook my head. I hung lifeless in his arms lest I give him any reason to cut me.

“Where?” He loosened his grip on my mouth, but kept the blade poised at my throat.

“D-down the hall. I can show you.”

“I bet you can show me a lot of things, eh
mi puta
?” He slid a hand up to my breast and squeezed.

I forced my scream to stay put in my throat.

Another man spoke from behind us, near the balcony. He was clearly irritated and giving instructions in Spanish to the one who held me.

“Later
,
mi puta.” He crushed my breast in his palm, pain roaring through me until he let up.

He shoved me forward and the other man grabbed my upper arm hard.

These were rough men. Their calloused hands and rugged faces telling a story of years of toil. And they hadn’t come to talk, judging by their machetes.

“Now show us where he is. If you make a sound, I’ll give you to Franco.” He jerked his chin at the man who’d first grabbed me. “
Comprende
?”

“Yes.” I’d heard bits of gossip here and there about how the local workers weren’t happy with their cut of the sugar cane profits. It was as if the Vinemonts had started squeezing more over the past few months, increasing their own income while ignoring the burden it put on the already-strained farmers.

The tension seemed to have reached the point of no return. Would they kill Lucius? The thought thrilled me, but what would happen to me if there was no more jefe? I glanced over my shoulder at Franco, his low brow and toothy leer. I didn’t think it possible until that moment, but I would fare worse if Lucius were gone.

“Go.” The man shoved me forward and I began to walk, hyperaware of the attackers, their weapons, and my own nudity.

I turned toward the left, the direction of the main house, hoping someone would see us and sound the alarm. It was broad daylight, after all, and the house had a few servants. We passed some bedrooms, and I saw a glimmer of hope as Raul, one of the butlers, turned the corner ahead of us. He froze, his mouth falling open as he saw me. Then he stared at the man who held my elbow. I willed him to run, to yell, to do something.

Instead, he dropped his gaze and retreated into the nearest bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Fuck.

Franco laughed low at my back. “
Coño
.”

I kept walking, leading them toward Lucius’ study. We didn’t pass any more servants, and the house seemed eerily quiet. The adrenaline in my system amped up another notch, my heart beating loudly in my ears as my steps began to falter.

“Keep up.” The man lifted me by my arm, forcing my gait to stay steady.

I took a few more steps toward the closed French doors leading to Lucius’ study.

“Here?”

I nodded.

Franco seized my shoulder. “Run,
puta
. I will find you soon enough.”

The men shoved me to the side and took the last step to the doors. Franco brought his knee up and kicked through them. The other man followed close behind as they rushed forward, blades drawn.

I darted away. My ruse had worked. Lucius and Javier worked the evening hours away in the library, not the study. I ran down the corridor, my feet slapping against the tile floor. Footsteps echoed behind me, Franco and the other man hot on my heels.

“Lucius!” I screamed and flew into the library. He and Javier rose as I threw the doors shut and turned the lock.

“What the fuck, Stella?” Lucius eyed my body.

“Men,” I gasped, “here to kill you.” I pointed to the door and scrambled back.

Javier yanked his pistol from his belt holster, and Lucius pulled out a handgun from his desk. The door handles began to rattle.

“Stella, hide!” Lucius barked and pointed to the space beneath his desk.

I was naked and weaponless. There was no other choice but to do what he said. I ran to him as the door began to give way. He shoved me under the desk.

“Don’t come out until I say.” His sky blue eyes were full of turmoil before he rose and disappeared.

There was an even harder thud and then the whine of wood against wood as the door splintered. Gunshots rang out so loud that I covered my ears. Shouts and curses, English and Spanish – all of it mixed as the booming noises died out and nothing was left but silence.

Lucius and Javier exchanged some words in Spanish that I couldn’t follow.

“Stella, how many?” Lucius called.

“Two.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t know. I only saw two.” Raul’s frightened face flashed through my mind. “And Raul saw them with me, but he just… He did nothing.”

“I’ll check the grounds.” Javier’s voice.

“Be careful. I don’t trust anyone. The staff, no one. Not now.”

“Understood, Jefe.”

Footsteps, then Lucius knelt down and held his hand out to me. “Come on. They won’t be bothering us anymore.”

There wasn’t a scratch on him, but he’d just killed two men. He was calm, as if he’d only swatted a fly.

I reached out to him, only then noticing how badly my body shook. He pulled me out from beneath the desk and tilted my chin up with his thumb and index finger. Inspecting my neck, he said, “You’re bleeding.”

“I am?” A haze had settled over me, and my ears were ringing. The smell of burnt gunpowder hung in the air. I glanced past him and fixated on the two bodies, blood pooling around them in a crimson sea that blocked the door. How would we get out without getting their blood on us? I’d lured them in here, straight to their deaths. I was already covered in their blood, I just couldn’t see it.

“Stella?” Lucius pulled my gaze back to his, a crease forming in his brow. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” He scooped me up in his arms, his pistol still in the hand at my knees.

I stiffened. “I can walk.”

He shook his head at me, his light brown hair falling into his eyes. “You’re in shock.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

He grazed his fingers along my back, feeling the ridges of my scars. “I know. Close your eyes. I’m going to step over them and take you back to your room.”

“No.” My voice shook and I looked down again, the bodies drawing my gaze like a magnet. “That’s where they found me.”

“Close your eyes. Do it now.” Lucius’ tone was harsh.

I turned back to him and buried my face in his shoulder, but I could still feel their lifeless stares. He moved through the library, taking a final, big step across the pool of blood, and then we were out in the hallway. I opened my eyes as he turned to the right, away from my room and toward his. He moved quietly and swiveled this way and that each time he came to a door, searching for any more unwanted guests.

Easing his bedroom door open, he peered around before walking in and setting me down on the bed. I drew his blanket to my chin and watched as he checked the bathroom, the closet, and then closed and locked his balcony doors.

“You’ll be safe here. I’m going to go find Javier and make sure there were only two.” He clicked something on the gun and the magazine slid out. He checked the bullets and nodded to himself before looking back to me. “Don’t move from this room.”

I stared at the crimson stain along the side of his boot. Blood. So much of it had flowed around me. My mother’s, mine, the men on the floor. How much of it was my fault? All of it?

He stalked to me, his light eyes flashing even in the now-darkened room. “Stella. Tell me you’ll stay here. I need you safe.”

That got through to me, his one half-truth. He needed me. He needed his Acquisition untouched until he said otherwise. Until three weeks from now at Christmas when the second trial was set to begin. Would he keep me safe then? Renee’s story of torture and violation replayed through my mind, forming a lattice work of pain over the pool of blood that had already seared into my vision.

I looked up and met his focused stare. “I’ll stay here.”

“Good. I’ll be back in a short while. Don’t open this door for anyone else. Not even Javier. Got it?” He pulled back the gun’s action and checked the round in the chamber. His hands were steady, as if killing was what they were made for.

He released the metal, a smooth
shick
sound that spoke of death. Reaching out toward my face, he pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. I leaned away from his touch.

His eyes narrowed. “Stay here. No one but me gets through that door. Tell me you understand, Stella.”

“Yes.” I wanted him gone. I wanted all of it gone.

He raised his gun and went to the door. “Lock it behind me.”

He opened it silently, peeking out, and then slid through before pulling it shut behind him. I rose, pulling the blanket with me, and clicked the bolt over. It was just a deterrent. If others wanted to get in, they would.

I scanned the room for a weapon. There wasn’t much to choose from, unless I could somehow fashion a dagger from some local art or decorative tobacco baskets. I went to Lucius’ bedside table. Nothing there of use. I whirled and caught his fireplace in my peripheral vision. I grabbed an iron poker, gripping it hard and getting a feel for its weight. It wouldn’t do much if the intruder had a gun, but it was better than nothing.

Tossing the blanket back onto the bed, I hurried into his walk-in closet. I closed the door behind me and yanked down a white button up. I slipped it on and rolled up the sleeves, ignoring the fact that I wasn’t wearing panties. The wooden racks and drawers gave me nowhere to hide.

I scratched the idea of sheltering in the closet and returned to the bed to sit and wait. It didn’t matter anyway. If someone came here to kill me, hiding wouldn’t stop them. They would find me.

Tension roiled along my body, every commonplace sound in the house like a bomb going off, shocking my system. The ticking of a clock, the sound of a bird on the roof nearby, the slow drip of Lucius’ faucet in his bathroom. I edged back until I was sitting against the headboard, the fireplace poker next to me, the unyielding metal a strange comfort.

Would I die here instead of in the Acquisition? Maybe this end was better. Maybe this farmer uprising—if that’s what it truly was—was a blessing in disguise. I absentmindedly trailed my fingertips along the scars on my left wrist. I’d wished for death back then. I still toyed with it, flirting with it from across the room with glances and coy smiles. Death watched me as if I were its next dance partner, its next sumptuous feast of flesh. How long would our flirtation last before he dragged me into the swirling mass of dancers, swallowed up by flowing skirts and dark smiles?

The air remained still, the whole house turned into a sepulcher by the two bodies, maybe more, that filled its walls. I focused intently on every noise, every creak of the house. After an hour or so, a sharp crack shattered the stillness. A single gunshot that was soon joined by others. Booming shots mixed with the sporadic cracks of pistols as I huddled under the blanket, my gaze fixed unwaveringly on the door.

The sun slowly faded through the window as I waited. The room became steeped in gloom, hours passing without word from anyone and no more shots. I didn’t dare turn on a light. The adrenaline was long-since drained from my body. I scooted down in the bed, propping my head on pillows so I could keep an eye on the door. Lucius’ scent surrounded me, sandalwood and sophistication sinking into my pores.

My eyes grew heavy. I should have sat up, should have moved around. Instead, I let the darkness lull me. It wasn’t the first time.

The door burst open, and I scrambled from the bed. Sleep was gone and a surge of murder took its place. The poker was in my hand as I rushed forward toward the dark figure advancing into the room. Drawing my arm back, I waited for the gunshots to sound, for my blood to spill. Nothing.

I swung with all my strength but the figure caught my wrist and squeezed hard. The pressure increased until my bones ached and I dropped the metal with a cry. He clapped his hand over my mouth and snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me to him. Fear engulfed me like quicksand, dragging me down until I knew I would suffocate.