Hugo knelt in front of me again, his fingers tracing a path along my jaw. “You’re a beautiful little thing,” he said, his tone mockingly soft. “Maybe I’ll keep you as a pet and prisoner after I dump Dario’s body in the street.”

I glared at him, my voice steady and defiant. “I’m already Dario’s prisoner, Hugo. And I only serve one master, and that’s Dario. I’d rather die than serve an old man with a rusty pipe between his legs.”

The words barely left my mouth before his hand struck my face, the force of the blow knocking me onto my side. Pain exploded in my cheek, blood dripping from my nose and lips.

Hugo loomed over me, his face twisted with rage. “Careful, girl,” he hissed. “That rusty pipe will fuck you right in front of your lover before I kill him. That’ll be the last thing he sees before he rots in hell.”

I stared up at him, hatred burning in my eyes. I would rather die than let this man in between my legs. Dario would come. He had to.

90 days with my billionaire ex

Miguel led me through a sleek corridor of the yacht, the low hum of the ocean beneath us a constant reminder of the isolation of this meeting. We entered a private lounge where the lighting was dim, the air thick with cigars and power. The room wasn’t crowded, but the people inside were unmistakably important. 


“This way,” Miguel said, motioning toward three men seated comfortably, their expressions a mix of curiosity and indifference. 


Miguel began the introductions. “Dario, meet Lorenzo, head of operations in Peru. Martinz—his father controls most of Cuba. And Lucian, running things in Los Angeles.” 


I greeted them with a polite nod. These men weren’t just cartel leaders; they were empires in human form. The kind of people who could make alliances… or destroy you with a single phone call. 


Lucian’s sharp, calculating gaze met mine. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dario. Miguel talks highly of you.” 


Busted in Ecstasy