Vigorous music fades as I follow Stella down the hallway to Diablo's office. Ruby red bulbs hang from the torchiere floor lamps, dimming the closer we get to his post. Dozen of escorts, employees, and bodyguards drift back and forth through the halls, exiting in all sorts of directions. Diablo's Paraiso has so many hideouts. I'm surprised there hasn't been an incident here.

Stella extends her arms, gesturing for me to enter his quarters. I send a small smile of appreciation and step into his office. Diablo sends a quick grin, pointing at his phone, and mouths one minute. Foreign words, possibly Japanese, fly from his lips, frustration apparent in the grooves of his face.

He plugs the cell phone between his ear and shoulders, using his empty hands to pour glasses of scotch. His office is simply embellished with long, vertical file cabinets on his wall. The plain black walls are decorated with extravagant paintings of animals. On his steel desk, messy crush-up papers make it seem cluttered along with his photo frames. My attention lingers on one picture, specifically.

It's younger Mika with bright fiery red locks clinging onto Diablo, the brightest smile shining on her face. Red hair, huh? Is it weird to say how fucking beautiful she looked in it? The only downside was Diablo, with his smug grin and hands attached to her waist. What is their relationship? Is it solely professional or does it pass ethical lines? Regardless, I wanted to burn his hand off until he could feel the fire scorching within me.

Diablo drops the phone on his desk. "Sorry, Asiel. I'd to deal with management problems."

I nod, flapping my hand. "No need to explain. I appreciate you making some time in your busy schedule to meet with me."

He uncuffs his sleeves, rolling them to his elbow, and leans back in his chair. "Of course. So, why have you decided to pay a visit? Is it to bid for the Mika? I'd never pin you as someone who would pay for a prostitute."

My brow shoots up in confusion. "Bid for Mika? What's that about? Also, I would appreciate it if you didn't refer to her as a prostitute. She's a human being first."

Diablo raises his brow. Surprise quickly passes his dark gaze. "Ah, I would've thought Mika explained it since you seem... really infatuated with her, especially since you feel the need to defend her. To put it in simple terms, Mika is our most purchased Angele and has a waiting list reaching months from now. We give opportunities for clients who wish to skip the line to bid the highest amount and win a night with Mika. It's a simple concept."

It would be a lie if I said I never thought about spending a night with Mika. Lately, my showers lasted longer as I pump my cock with my hand, wishing, cherishing, pretending it was her. But being at this club alone is enough temptation to last a lifetime. Our encounters had been no longer than an hour together and I fought tooth and nail with myself to stay strong. If I participated in this bidding war, I wouldn't last two seconds alone with Mika.

I'll slip through the seduction and satisfy my needs.

My needs to fuck her brains out.

I shake my head, dismissing all my inappropriate thoughts about Mika, and focus on my intentions with Diablo. The slithering snake ink on his wrist grabs my attention, speaking volumes in this moment of silence. It's almost like a warning. As if working with Diablo is a shaky staircase, ready to crumble in seconds.

A husky hint of a laugh escapes past my lips. "It was just one lap dance. I don't intend to go further than that."

Diablo places his hand in the air, waving defeat at the conversation. "What you do on your own time isn't any of my business. No one will judge you if you do bid on Mika. She is a conqueror. If she wants you... She will do anything to get you."

A conqueror? That's a new way of describing Mika, and surprisingly it matches perfectly. In this grim world, she had everything at her fingertips. Earth rotates around Mika. She's the center of this axis, my axis. Call it infatuation, but I couldn't spot a single flaw in Mika. It's fucking with my head for someone like Mika to truly exist and storm through the front doors of my life.

I clear my thought, tapping my ring against the tumbler. "Anyway, I didn't want to speak with you about those matters. A little birdie mentioned your supplier had a little... mishap. I wanted to discuss the possibilities of us... working together."

Diablo's expression remains neutral. "Working together in what way?"

"The Morterero family spent the past few months renovating our products. They're top-tier shit. Highly addictive and pure. People will crave this shit. With Barerra's products off the market, we plan to distribute this powerful shit around the globe. But we want to start with you, and cater to your business," I recite, a speech I've been rehearsing since last night.

He narrows his eyes, nipping at the hair on his chin. "The propositions sound promising, but everything results in the product. Do you have a sample of the product?"

I quickly nod, pulling out a ziplock pouch from my jacket, and hand it over. He places a clear, shiny blade in the bag, spooning up a fraction of the white powder. Diablo raises the knife to his nose, inhaling the powder in one go. Tremors exit his body as the product quickly works its magic, and he laughs.

Diablo sticks his pointer finger in the bag and sticks powder in his mouth. "Fuck, man. You guys outdid yourselves. Barrera's shit never hit this strong. What are the numbers?"

"For starters, we want seventy percentage of every kilo sold," I state with conviction.

His eyes widen. "Is that number concrete? Diablo's Paraiso is going to be the main distributor. Shouldn't we receive more? "

"Normally, I would agree, but we're going to produce generous amounts weekly for this club and our other vendors. Our operations scale from five million to ten million in order to produce the amount everyone would need. Seventy has to be the number, until things skyrocket then maybe we can negotiate," I explain, trying to get a read on his expressions.

He scraps the blade back and forth on his desk, a scratchy, sharp sound coming from it. "How much will we receive weekly?"

"Twenty-five kilos."

Diablo purse his lips. "Alright... is it possible to increase the amount if needed?"

"Of course. We've enough employers to double down if the event occurs," I reply.

A sense of accomplishment washes over me. After the horrendous incident, I felt more inclined to prove I wasn't a useless leader. It might be a trainwreck, but I will bring glory to the Morterero family. It has nothing to do with everyone's doubts about me, especially my father. Oh, right... Maybe a tiny bit, but I wanted to prove everyone wrong for myself.

I can be a leader.

I can be ruthless.

I can be the Morterero everyone fears.

"Okay. Lucky for you, I really don't have the time to search for other competing products. Besides, I doubt anything will hit as good as this. What's the fastest timeframe for us to receive our first batch?" Diablo asks, throwing back his scotch.

"I'll have to communicate with my partners for clarity, but I think we should be set in five hours."

Diablo flashes a snarky grin, pouring himself another glass of scotch. I haven't even touched my tumbler because of all the nerves, but I'm feeling reckless. It's been months since I have grown enough confidence to go after something related to the cartel. I deserve a long, free, wild night with unlimited drinks.

Maybe I can sneak in a conversation with Mika...

He extends his hand to me. "I'm truly thrilled to be working with you, Asiel."

I shake his hand. "Thank you for taking a chance on us."

Diablo jerks his head. "No need for thank you. This product will bring in a lot of needed revenue besides Mika likes you. She's my second in command and I trust her judgment. So if anything, say thank you to her."

My heart leaps through the imaginary ring of fire. "Wait, she likes me?"

As Diablo opens his mouth to reply, he's clipped short by a loud knock coming from the other side of the door. An irritated sigh leaves my lips. I wasn't going to get an answer to my million-dollar question. He probably just meant Mika likes me, like how a cat likes food. Nothing special. My hope slowly deflates as reality sinks in.

"Come in," Diablo shouts.

The door creaks open to a young, blonde, curly hair fellow with firm, stable-built, and colorful tattoos from head to toe. Most of his face is obscured from his mask until it slips off, revealing the sharp edge of his stubbled jaw tense.

Fuck.

It's Luka Velazquez.

These days our families are on the opposite side of the spectrum. But once upon a time, we used to get along and spend holiday vacations with each other. My father never had any friends who didn't benefit him in the long run. Luka's father was one of those rare exceptions. Luka and I weren't the best of friends. Maybe it was my jealousy of having my brother pinched away on our holidays, but I detested him.

A silver lining occurred when our fathers broke out in a shoot-out after a long night of binge drinking. That night, Mama covered my ears and clutched my body so tightly that the ringing of the bullets was muffled. She spent an hour reciting a prayer for my father and brother, hoping we weren't about to be slaughtered.

Our holiday in the Dominican Republic ended a day earlier, with our family intact. My father's relationship with Jorge Velázquez was another story... A deadly, bloody one. Because of their altercation and Jorge's death, Luka was swept into the leadership role at the age of fifteen.

The rest of his story is currently being written.

But why the fuck was he here?

"Good evening, Diablo," Luka says, cracking his neck and releasing a groan of relief. His dark blue eyes reflecting the blackness of the ocean hold my gaze for a brief moment. "Has anyone else come to bid yet?"

Diablo taps the tip of his nose, a smirk growing across his lips. "Which Angele are you interested in tonight, Vapor?"

Luka takes the other empty lounge chair, settling into the seat in a man spread, forcing his fingers through his blonde hair. "Are you drinking this?" He asks, his fingers tapping on the fresh scotch glass in front of me.

I force a grin. "All yours."

He blows out an apologetic sigh. "Sorry for intruding on a private conversation. I'm just eager to win this whore for the night. By the way, I'm Luka."

"Asiel," I blurt, hoping he wouldn't make the same connection I had.

My heart pounces to the beat of the drum as the silence clings to the air for a second too long. His expressions remain calm and collected, masking any hint of knowledge of my existence. It's something I have yet to conquer while others dominate it like a second-grade exam.

"There's still thirty minutes on the clock," Diablo informs him, flicking his pen back and forth. "Are you sure you want to make the bid now? There's enough time for someone to outbid you."

Luka shrugs, feigning pride. "I doubt it."

"If you say so." A cocky smile is stamped on Diablo's face. "Who's the lucky lady tonight?"

"Mika."

My neck swings so fast it could've broken in half. Any ounce of reconciliation has long left the station, and hatred skids through my veins. My stomach twists and turns into a million knots at the thought of another man's hands on her body. This is fucking sick. We weren't in any type of agreement for me to get this possessive over her.

But I am.

I wanted her for myself.

I didn't want to share her, but if I had any possibility of Mika giving me a chance, I'll have to break my own rules. Is my pact with God worth annihilating over a woman I've known for a few weeks? It wasn't a fair argument. Whether I like it or not, Mika isn't just any woman. She's the rarest, sharpest breed. An obsession that triumphs any sense of logic from a mile away.

Diablo quietly chuckles, probably reveling in the irony of his reply. "Her bid is set at 2.5 million as of now."

My eyes bulge from their sockets at the number while Luka seemed nonchalant. As if Mika's bid had been higher in the past. It's absurd that clients were willing to drop a kidney to spend an evening with an escort. Though it wouldn't be fair to judge when I felt inclined to bid for Mika. Save her from this bastard and have a night alone together.

Really fucking tempting.

Luka pulls his checkbook from his pocket and writes an amount. "That's lightweight. If you think that's a lot, then you haven't hung out with Dipper. Whenever he wants a night with Mika, he bids over ten million."

"Interesting," I bite back.

A sly grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. "Asiel, was it? Have you had the pleasure of fucking Mika yet?"

My eyes narrow at his vulgar statement. "I don't sleep with escorts."

He chuckles. "You're missing out. She does anything you want her to do--Shibari, anal, oral, slapping, you name it. Mika has the tightest fucking pussy I ever put my dick into. Her ass is even tighter. Fuck, I can't wait to use her tonight. I need to unleash my stress, and what's better than fucking a cunt?"

My hatred spikes. "There's nothing better than that..."

Luka tosses back the tumbler of scotch. "Let me know if you change your mind. Unlike you, I'm willing to share. Mika likes to be crammed with as many cocks as possible."

"I'll let you know," I say through gritted teeth.

He raises from the chair. "See you next week, Diablo. I'm going to search for Mika and let her know of the arrangements. I'm sure she will be thrilled. She's always said I am her favorite.

I bite back a snicker. "Ever think she probably repeats the same phrase to all her clients?"

Luka blinks, taken back for a second. "If you saw the faces she made when I fucked her, then you wouldn't be speaking out of your ass. Girls like her don't like men who sweep them off their feet... They like the men that can fuck them senselessly."

I toss him a bland look. "Good thing I'm not interested in those types of girls."

People say you're either a lover or a fighter. For the longest time, I thought I was a lover, but as this fucker stood in front of me, I realize how wrong I'd been. I wanted to punch the sly smirk off his face until it was tainted with blood. It's brainless to fight a man for a woman who loves to play with idiots like us.

It was naive of me to think I could be Mika's favorite, but I'm just another dude, aren't I? The red flags shine clear as day, and I couldn't give a flying fuck. Mika has roped me in. I might as well accept my fate.

I'm a lovesick fool.

Diablo clears his throat. "Do you want to make a bid for Mika?"

Bitterness inflates in my chest at the thought of Mika and Luka. Together In less than twenty minutes, he will have her all to himself. He doesn't even respect her the way she deserves to be. Does he even pamper her after he fucks her or does he leave after finishing himself?

Despite how much my heart fights against it, I reply with a, "No. I'm good."

Damn... who thinks Asiel should've bid on Mika? 🙋‍♀️No one. Oh okay lol! So, we've meant a new interesting, important character. Luka. What do you guys think about him? Or you need a little more of him to make an opinion? Do you guys think Asiel can become the ruthless Morterero of them all? Or he's too innocent? Also, I threw in little snippets of Mika's past for you guys 👀👀 place close attention guys or you might miss it.

Hehe I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy It! Please let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!!

Love you and thank you for every comment& vote ❤️