Trouble In Town Pt 03

*Just thought to revive this story* L.S

Alonso looked through the menu presented to him, his indecisiveness causing his brows to knit into worry lines. For the most part, he enjoyed his independence and the new experience of living alone, but times like this, when he had to choose from a menu, he missed the comfort of living with Anselm. The house had a live-in chef, who prepared all the meals and always knew just what combination to serve. The choices were made for him there, so he never had to bother about what to eat, with independence came the nagging question of what to eat.

Then again, wasn't that what he had been trying to escape? Choices being made for him. He ought to celebrate his current state of indecisiveness. It was progress.

"You should pick the fifth option, tastes like heaven"

At this point, even her perfume was all the alert he needed.

Alonso stiffened, when he heard Victoria next to him. He could have sworn he had successfully ditched her some hours ago, except she had a tracker on him, he couldn't fathom how she found him. He had been thankful that he didn't have to work alongside her in their takedown of Anselm, but Victoria was nothing if not relentless. She kept using their age proximity to defend her insistence on keeping him company, but Alonso couldn't say if she really believed that, or if it was just a ploy. He had thought for certain that Victor leaving her out of the plans, meant he wouldn't have to see much of her, but how wrong he was.

"You shouldn't be here." he said.

"Well, I needed to tell someone what I had recently found, and my dad would lose his mind if he knew I was investigating Anselm..."

"You're doing what?!" Alonso asked in disbelief, as he finally turned his gaze on her sharply. He had told himself he would avoid looking at her, in a bid to avoid getting aroused by her, but if she was saying what he thought she was saying, that rule would have to sit aside for a while.

She had the gall to look surprised by his reaction, "What? You thought I wouldn't run my own investigation? I know you men like to think you have it all in the bag, but I have skills none of you do."

Alonso grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along, to a less busy corner of the shop, "Why the fuck are you hanging anywhere close to my uncle? Weren't you the one who said he was dangerous?" He shot at her. Anselm had always told him that youth was deceitful; young people always acted with more balls than they actually had, and ended up dead or maimed for their foolishness. He had thought Victoria was smarter, but it seemed her youth was her hubris still.

She pulled her arm out of his hold, "Neither you nor my dad would bring me in..."

"For a reason..."

"A silly, misogyny-inspired reason"

Alonso scoffed in disbelief. How had Victor kept this girl out of the public eye for so long? She couldn't seem to sit still.

"I was able to use a software to infiltrate his devices. I learnt his devices are connected to those of his workers, so, he knows what they get up to, so, I sent one of said workers, a bugged mail. Once he opened it, I got access to his files and documents, I could trace his calls and messages. I've been gathering intel for a little over a week..."

"One week? You've been tracking Anselm for a week?" She was more fucked than she realised. There was no way Anselm hadn't caught on to the existence of a spy in his system. His uncle was no techwiz, but he had enough people in his employ to alert him if something was off.

"Do you want the information I have or would you rather discuss how I set it up?"

Alonso groaned softly, "We have to leave, now" he stated firmly. He couldn't allow Victoria continue on this path. He would take her to her father and have him set her straight, because he didn't trust himself to do it right. Alonso was man enough to admit that Victoria made him weak, and not just in the knees. He didn't trust himself around her and if Victor knew he had the hots for his daughter, he wouldn't trust him around her either. It was the reason he wanted so much to keep himself away from her, because the last thing this plan needed, was anyone's feelings muddling things up.

He opened up the door, not even budging slightly at her attempt to wiggle her way out of his hold. As soon as they stepped out though, Alonso felt a shift in the air.

Something was wrong. He turned to the left, just in time to see a gun slip out the window of a black SUV.

Shit!

He just barely wrapped Victoria in a protective embrace, his back to the streets, when the sound of gunfire rented the air. He blocked out the sound of screaming people as he felt what had to be pebbles, pelting his skin. The drive-by was quick, which meant, it was only supposed to serve as a warning, but what a fatal warning it could very well have turned out to be....

His eyes followed the moving SUV, noting the plate number. It belonged to Anselm. Alonso had an odd hobby of memorizing plate numbers, his memory was so good, he had every plate number attached to the twenty cars in his uncle's garage ingrained in his head.

He growled softly. He had clearly laid low long enough. Anselm had a target on his back, and he'd be damned if he didn't return the favor.

"Alonso" the muffled voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and it was only then he returned to their current state; he still had Victoria pressed tightly against his chest, while the people around them continued to scream and run about.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along to his parked car.

"Alonso" she called again, this time, her voice was laced with worry.

Alonso was so consumed by his need to get Victoria to safety, he didn't respond to her call. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt, not only because he feared what would become of him if Victor's daughter was hurt in his care, but also, because he feared what he would become, if Anselm hurt a hair on her head. Alonso didn't trust himself to not go berserk if she was hurt under his watch.

"Alonso!"

He reached the pick up truck he had gotten a few days ago to ease his movement, and unlocked the door.

"Alonso"

"What?" He asked, as he opened up the door, while turning to her.

He noticed the concern on her face, as she said two words he couldn't recall ever hearing his entire life, "You're bleeding."

****

(Victoria)

"Are you sure you're okay?"

The words filtered into my ears, dark eyes roaming over my face, as if outfitted with a polygraph to determine if I was telling a lie.

My father was shaken, his features were etched with a concern I had last seen when he had rescued myself and my mother from a rival gang that had kidnapped us. It was perhaps the one thing that stopped me from responding to him snarkily or with a practiced sarcasm I had started employing as an adolescent whenever he worried over me.

At various times in my life, I had held one thing or the other against my father. Home schooling me, causing me to have a dysfunctional social life as a teenager, preventing me from applying to NYU. I had always wondered why I had to suffer for the choices he made in life. Yet, the day's events had dragged me down to the reality of the life I often allowed myself forget about.

I was the daughter of a Mafia lord. It may not have been a life I chose, but it was the life I had, and my father was just looking out for me the best he could.

"I'm fine, dad." I responded softly, "It's just..." I looked away from my father's worry-laced face, towards the door of the study. Only minutes ago, the man who had saved my life had walked out through that door. The back of his light blue shirt was darkened with his blood, but those dark spots were concentrated on just a few points.

I was shaken all right...but not because someone had shot at me. No. I was shaken because Alonso had walked out of this room without assistance. He had driven us home without grimacing in pain. I had assumed he was so concentrated on getting us to safety in the car, hence he hadn't acknowledged the the bullets I thought tore into his skin.

There were holes in his shirt, but if bullets were lodged into his back, nothing in his movement suggested that...perhaps I was in shock. That had to be why my mind was playing out that scenario in that manner.

"You see now, why I keep you within this compound?" my father asked. His tone danced around a scolding one, but it wasn't quite as harsh. He let out a sigh, deciding he wouldn't let me vehemently defend my right to free movement, "I'm just thankful Alonso was with you when the attack happened. If he hadn't been there..."

I watched my father shiver at whatever horrible thought crossed his mind, and I reined in the Annalise Keating in me, just rearing to remind him adulthood gave me autonomy.

"It's been so long since I had to engage in a gang war with a lethal rival. I fear I may have underestimated the Soldado gang. I should have employed the protocol I used when you were much younger."

I sat up a bit straighter at those words. I could feel the palpitations in my heart, as memories of all the things my father had to do to keep me safe, crashed into me like the waves from a tsunami. When I was younger, I looked at it as a minor inconvenience. It wasn't like I went to a normal school and had friends I could miss, it wasn't like I would be getting enrolled in another school and be forced to deal with bullies like the movies depicted.

It was just going from one obnoxiously large cage to another obnoxiously large cage. I would hope whoever was assigned the job of my handler was amiable, easy to talk to, not a grouch. Aside that, I never concerned myself with anything else.

This time, things were different though. This time, it truly felt like there was the possibility of my life being upturned in ways the lead character of a high school movie feared.

"Dad, I said I'm fine." I repeated the words, laying emphasis on each word, just so my father wouldn't be forced to do anything I would consider rash. The last time he had done something like that, I had lost my mother and till this day, there was an emptiness in my chest when I thought of all the phases I passed through without her.

I mean, I liked a boy. For the longest time I hadn't given any thought to the possibility of liking anyone; most of the men I was surrounded by, were considerably older than I was. I had a feeling it was intentional on my father's part, but I had never given it any thought...and then I found Alonso Soldado at our pool area and everything I had ever thought about my dating life faded into the background.

That was before he had me pinned below him, before I saw the smirk on his face and the glimmer in his blue eyes, before his lips had crashed onto mine and he had kissed me senseless. All of that was before I knew what it was like to ache for a man's touch.

And now....now my father remembered protocols.

"I know what you said sweetheart, but for how long? What next will that man try to get to you?"

I was so close to telling him I probably wasn't the target. My father had conveniently forgotten he was working with the man's nephew. What if they had come for Alonso and I just happened to be there? These people probably didn't know I was his daughter.

But making Alonso a person of interest would do nothing for my cause. I couldn't put the heat on him. My father would be merciful with me, but if he thought Alonso had put me in danger...

"He won't...dad, just please, I'm fine and I promise, this will never happen again." Yes, because I was never going to be a total idiot by tracking Alonso down to a shop to run him by an information I could very well have passed him in this compound.

"You're damn right this won't be happening again." my father agreed, "I'll make a few arrangements and have you out of the country in a couple of days. Once we're done with the Soldado crime family, I'll have you flown back in."

My heart dropped to my stomach, my worst nightmare unraveling itself before me.

This was not a court of law, I wasn't standing before a panel where I could have my say. This was a court martial. My father's word was law. There would be no convincing him to change his mind.

Screaming, crying, begging. It would all be an exercise in futility, and if anything, would pull his suspicions. I had never really thrown a fit at the thought of moving, aside when I lost my mother. If I did that now, he would think there was someone I cared for here.

Once again, the thought of putting a spotlight on Alonso did not appeal to me. As much as I wanted him, I also wanted his success. I meant it when I said he would not be able to take down his uncle without my father's contribution. I had done the necessary introductions, the last thing I would ever do, was sabotage Alonso for my selfish gain.

This was a punishment I would have to suffer. It was what I got for ditching my handler and meeting up with Alonso.

****

It was almost impossible to go back to the drawing board, when his mind was unsettled by the event of two days ago and its ensuing events.

His uncle wasn't his only concern now. Alonso was concerned for himself.

He had felt those bullets, but for some reason, none of them had lodged into his skin, and while he was still thinking of why that was so, he now had to wonder why the injuries he had gotten from the attack, were mostly healed. He had stopped feeling any pain on his back this morning, and when he removed the bandages to check, he noticed only the scars remained.

He had taken Victoria back to Victor after the attack, and though she was a bit shaken by what had transpired, he had a feeling she was most rattled by his light injuries. He couldn't even look at her, while he assured her father that he was fine, despite blocking her from a barrage of bullets.

He didn't know what the hell was happening, and he didn't know who to talk to about it. It wasn't like he could walk into Anselm's home and ask him why he was almost bulletproof. By all accounts, he should have been a dead man.

A light knock at the door pulled his thoughts to the present, Victor had offered him residence at his pool house, so he would stay close and under protection. Alonso couldn't argue with the man when he laid down his points; he would be close and he wouldn't have to worry about Anselm's boys finding him in his little hideout. Plus, Victor had a resident chef, so, he wouldn't have to suffer the indecision of what to eat.

He wanted to join up on the meeting Victor called to address their attack, but Victor had insisted he take a few days of rest first, and Alonso couldn't talk his way out of it. He had been cooped up in this pool house for two days and aside a maid that brought his meals to him, and Darren, Victor's second-in-command, who had come to brief him on the emergency meeting they had, no one else had come to the door.

He had had a meal a little over an hour ago, and the next one wasn't till another four to five hours, so, that certainly wasn't the maid.

He grabbed onto his shirt and pulled it over his head as he went to the door. Maybe it was Victor. The knock came again, "Who's there?"

"'Lonso, it's me"

Damn it!

Alonso flung the door open and pulled her in swiftly. It was one thing to stalk him to restaurants, but the last thing he needed, was anyone seeing her at his door on this estate. It was like Victoria was actively seeking a way to destroy him and thwart his plans, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you. No one would tell me how you were doing..."

"I'm fine, Victoria. But I won't be much longer, if you keep appearing wherever I am." he responded tersely.

"How though? I know what I saw Alonso, those guys didn't miss. We should have pulled out no fewer than three bullets from your body. How are you fine?" She asked

He was no closer to the answer to that question, than he had been days ago, and the last thing he needed, was Victoria prodding into his affairs and asking questions he had no answers to, "I don't know, I just am." He replied, as he turned away from her and walked to his bed.

"Surely, there must be some sort of explanation..."

"Fucking hell, Victoria! I said, I don't know, okay?" He yelled.

She seemed to recoil at his outburst. Alonso looked away from her and sat on his bed, his frustrations wounding tightly inside him. He hated being in the dark about something so serious, he hated being clueless, he hated that he had no answers. Was it a medical condition of sorts? He had browsed the internet for any conditions that would make a person's skin resistant to bullets, and he found none.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice Victoria's approach, until she was lowering herself next to him, "I didn't mean to upset you, Alonso. I'm sorry, it's just..." she paused when she touched his back and he didn't flinch.

One moment, she was speaking soothing words to him, the next, she was scrambling on the bed with the speed of light, and pulling his shirt high off his back.

"Victoria..." he began to protest

"It's gone" she said softly, brown eyes staring in disbelief at the lightly bruised skin that was where large bullet holes should have been, "It's all gone." Her hands roamed the length of his muscular back in wonder.

Alonso felt his entire body stiffen at her soft touch, his pulse quickened and his breath hitched; all reactions he had been trying to avoid with Victoria. Her touch felt all the more intimate, because he knew she wasn't even trying to be intimate with him in this moment, she was only concerned. If he let this continue any longer, he would cross a line he had made the moment he signed that agreement with Victor.

"Victoria, stop." He repeated, although his voice wasn't as firm as he wanted it to sound. He had never felt so weak, so out of control of himself with anyone the way Victoria made him feel. It was like he didn't even know his own body, where she was concerned.

"Alonso, your back is...."

He suddenly grabbed her roaming hand and pulled her around, "I said stop!" He spoke more firmly. It was only when the words left his lips, that he realized he had practically pulled her onto his lap. He didn't even know he had the strength to pull her around with such ease.

Victoria stared back at him, those doe eyes luring him into depths he had sworn never to sink back into, lips whose softness he was very much acquainted with, parted in that deliciously inviting manner that weakened his resolve.

His hand clasped the back of her neck, his fingers weaving into the soft curls that rested at the nape of her neck, he could hear her breath change at his touch, as his eyes studied her face.

"'Lonso..." she began breathlessly.

"Shut up" his lips pressed against hers, hungry, desperate, needy. He kissed her like a man starved of his favorite meal, and he might as well have been. He felt her hands against his shoulder, then, she wrapped them around his neck, as her lips moved against his with equal fervor. Clearly, she had missed him as much as he had missed her. She slid further onto his lap, until she was straddling him, his cock strained against the constricting jeans, and one light brush, alerted him that her center had found the large bulge. She had on a pair of cotton shorts that did little to hold her quickening wetness.

Alonso slid his free hand down her body and past the band of her shorts, the heat emanating from her core guided him to the treasure trove he had dreamt of plundering more times than was normal. Her breath caught in her throat, as he slipped a deft digit inside her wet folds, her grip tightened on his bicep. His lips left hers, to study her features, as his fingers brought her a long sought pleasure.

"Alonso..." she breathed softly. He could tell she wanted to question his resolve. A few weeks ago he had told her there could be nothing between them; he never mixed business with pleasure, he said. He just had never been faced with a pleasure that tempted him so. His finger dug deeper, his thumb finding her clit, and rubbing it, her breath hitched in her throat, ending whatever question she wanted to ask. He would deal with the consequences of his actions later.