Page 23 of Forbidden Fate

“Nice to meet you,” I lie.

He grunts.

“What’s the other guy’s name?” I ask. “The one who was here before.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he stomps toward me, grabs me, and throws me down on the cot.

“Ouch!” I yell.

“Shut up.” He hovers over me, frisking me. “Got to make sure you’re not armed.”

You’d think they’d have figured that out while I lay unconscious on the flight here, but it’s all too clear in a moment why he’s “checking” me. He spends a lot of time on my breasts, squeezing them and pinching them. Then he slides his hand underneath the waistband of my yoga pants and…

I close my eyes. Breathe. Pretend you’re somewhere else.

Does he really think I’m hiding a weapon in my cooch?

No, this is just a blatant violation.

When it’s over, he leaves without a word.

And I break into tears.

10

CRUZ

I sit in the lounge outside Vega’s inner office. The room is all marble and dark glass, very luxurious. Low leather chairs. A bar cart stocked with liquor no one touches unless invited. Floor-to-ceiling windows that don’t open.

He’s keeping me waiting.

It’s a favorite tactic of his, to give me the message that I’d better never forget who’s in control.

Fine.

The door down the hall opens. I don’t have to look up to know who it is.

Zabala.

I feel him before I see him. That oily presence. That swagger that comes from knowing he can do whatever the hell he wants.

I still don’t look at him right away. I let him come to me. Let him think I’m not paying attention.

“Moreno,” he says. “Didn’t know you were back from your little errand.”

Now I look.

He’s grinning like he just walked out of something he enjoyed a little too much.

“What have you been up to?” I ask evenly.

He smiles, that sleazy grin I’ve come to hate. “Just finished with our new guest.”

I swallow down nausea.

Robin.

What did he do to her?