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 and goatee. Most woman would be proud to grace his side, but the only reason a woman as young as Lena would touch my father is money and power.
Cynical, yes. Also true.
I used to suspect Lena's motives, but as the years passed it became obvious that she has no interest in either his money or the power of the cartel. She lives as frugally as I've seen anyone live and seems content. She rarely speaks when they're out in public, or ever really, and never addresses the powerful men Manuel does business with.
She is an enigma. Not easily pinned down. And the fact that I've spent many hours pondering her existence is not something that sits easily. Women are shallow. Objects to be f****d and discarded. Not distractions. Especially to men like me.
I'm about to make my way back to my father when Tom Garcia, an old friend and associate of Manuel's, makes his way to my side and reaches for my hand. I allow the greeting, squeezing his hand in return. Tom is an arrogant man who considers himself on the same level as my father. While Manuel seems to work well with the man, I tend to hold him at a distance.
Tom is no longer active in the underworld, stays closeted in his guarded estate. He was my father's second before he retired, an advisor to Manuel, powerful in his own right.
"Glad you could make it tonight, son."
I grunt my acknowledgment. Though Manuel likes and respects Tom, I would prefer not to have anything to do with the man. I saw him commit unnecessary atrocities when he worked for Manuel that turn even my stomach, and I've done some unconscionable things in the name of the cartel.
When I fail to respond he follows my gaze, his own landing on the object of too many of my thoughts. I catch the appreciative look on his face, the glint in his eye as he watches her.
"Fine piece of ass, eh?"
Though I had the same thought moments ago, rage flashes through me as I turn to Tom, a clear warning in my gaze. He lifts a hand and waves it as if to clear the air of his toxic insult. His sharp eyes turn from Lena back to me.
"Deadly, I suppose."
I look at him sharply. Does he know Lena is Manuel's bodyguard or is he just fishing? And why? I shrug. "I wouldn't know."
The truth is, I have no idea if Lena is deadly or not. She's my father's personal bodyguard, not an enforcer or thug. I've never seen her in action and haven't bothered to spar with her. She's a woman. I don't fight women.
When I don't speak again, Tom nods his head absently. "Give your father my regards."
I'm about to tell him to see my father himself if he has something to say, but he moves away, disappearing into the crowd.
I turn my gaze back toward Lena and Manuel. Her hand is on his arm, but her eyes are on me. I give her a hard stare until she drops her eyes again, a blush staining her cheeks. I turn away from the pair and move in the opposite direction.
One day Lena will fall under my power. That will be a good day.