Kiss of the Cartel

I watch as she walks away from me. The fury I feel when she's near is close to the surface again. I can't explain what it is about Lena that gets to me, but something about her pushes my buttons. Perhaps her veneer of cool sophistication. Her untouchable attitude.Or perhaps it's as simple as a woman preferring to warm my father's bed. Since the moment my father installed her in our home as his 'bodyguard' I've been drawn to the enigmatic brunette. Her slight accent and the exotic features hint at a past worth exploring, but my father has refused to share details of his acquisition beyond that he found her in a Russian whorehouse.She rejoins him, taking his arm in an easy move, maintaining the fabrication that she is his girlfriend. My father is not a bad looking man. Manuel Ramirez is in his mid-sixties, 30 years older than me. He's a tall man, his shoulders and arms hint to the muscles that used to define his physique. His hair is dark with silver streaks and he sports a mustache

I'm sitting in the back seat of the sleek black town car next to Manuel. He asked me to accompany him to a meeting with one of his contacts. It's somewhat unusual for a mafia 'girlfriend' to attend a business meeting, but most of Manuel's colleagues have gotten used to seeing me at these meetings.Manuel Ramirez is top of the food chain; he commands unlimited respect and is allowed to bring whomever he wants to a business meeting. He's one of the most dangerous men in the world. Wealthy beyond belief, his money is acquired through drugs and human trafficking. But he's also an arms dealer and a smart investor. He takes me everywhere and his men have gotten used to talking in front of me. None know of our arrangement. It's a good one. I keep him safe and he pays me well.I fuck up, and well... I've never fucked up so I don't know exactly what he'd do. Manuel is a cold man, though sometimes I think he's softened toward me. I'm under no illusion though that he won't ship me back to where

When I wake up, I'm alone in a room. I'm naked, blood of my victims still on me. I want to vomit my head hurts so much. I have no weapons even though that doesn't make me helpless. But it leaves me vulnerable.I drop a hand between my legs, check for soreness, inflammation, violation. Nothing. I'm not sure if I'm relieved by this. I assume I've been kept alive for a reason and that, eventually, they'll fuck me before killing me. It might have been better if they'd gotten it over with while I was unconscious.There is a bathroom off the room I am in. Small and dirty, but it has a shower. I use the toilet, then turn on the shower, letting the trickle of cold water wash the blood off me. There's no towel, no soap, but I am better without the blood. A small mirror shows the bruises on my face. When I was slapped by one of the kidnappers, then the punch to my temple, bruising the side of my cheek. I'm thirsty and try to scoop water from the tap into my hand and up to my mouth. A little ge

Who killed your father?It had been stupid of me to push Luis like that. But there was something about his grief, his deeply entrenched rage over Manuel's death that called to me, forced the words past my lips. I think I know who killed his father, was trying to kill Luis, had worked it out almost immediately after we'd been taken. And if I'm right, then Luis is still in grave danger.I don't know why I care. He and I have been at odds since my arrival in the organization. At worst, I knew he wanted to get his hands on me, wanted to get me alone to pit his strength against mine, prove to his father that I am an unnecessary inconvenience for a man of his stature. At best, Luis was coolly indifferent to me. His chilling gaze following my movements whenever we were in the same room together.Now, I'm in the exact position he's always wanted me in. Tied up, ready to be used, at his mercy. If I'm going to have any chance at survival, I need him to see the truth of the kidnapping, the exe

Broken.He managed to break me and he barely touched me. I'm lying on my side curled around the water jug, tears dripping steadily off my face and onto the concrete beneath me. I try to tell myself to get up, to move, to shift closer to the door where I can smash him with the jug next time he comes in. I do none of this. I'm paralyzed. My first orgasm. Forced on me by an enemy. Shame and humiliation fight for the top position, along with terror. I had been prepared for violence, for rape. To be taken with no thoughts to my pleasure, my feelings. This… this is the ultimate mindfuck. With the cresting wave of my orgasm he released something else. A secret part of myself I hold onto so tight that no one is ever supposed to see. The woman that yearns, that wants things.I can't want things. I'm a machine. Built to protect. This is how I survive. I bury that woman, the woman who wants more out of life, so deep that she'll never see the light. Somehow, with those few touches, his finger