DIABLO INSIDE

by Amarie Avant

  Extended Epilogue: Dominic

  While holding up the driftwood, asking Aria to marry me, I never felt more out of control in my life. Aria Jones penetrated my defenses long ago. She challenged me in so many ways, and that’s all I can think about as I tug back into my tuxedo pants. Barefoot and shirtless, I can’t wait to hold her in my arms. I head back into the room.

  Aria’s still standing at the spot I told Yasiel to bring her to. Her hands are on the glass as she stares into the turquoise water. One by one, her family and friends turn around.

  Lincoln holds up a finger to shush one of his children.

  I whisper to her abuelo, “Am I on the drawing board yet?”

  The old man winks. “Sure are. Negative ten points.”

  “Really?” I cock a brow, not offended in the slightest, while removing an engagement ring.

  “Real proposals aren’t this fancy deal. You get on one knee, son.”

  As I continue toward Aria, Papi growls at him. “It was passionate! You antiguo—”

  “Gramps,” Aria mutters, turning around. Her beautiful brown eyes connect with mine. “It’s perfect. Don’t listen to him. He really likes you.”

  “I don’t give a damn if he likes me.” I lie. It would be nice. “Long as you do.”

  “Oh, sometimes I don’t like you, Dom, you force me to be a better woman. To love myself more than I ever knew was possible.” She grins as my arms encircle her waist. “So, Nope. Never said I liked you 24/7.”

  I yank her toward me.

  “Negative one hundred,” her gramps calls out.

  “Hush up,” Siobhan says.

  Aria whispers, “Don’t get on one knee. Spite Gramps. Trust me, Dom, he appreciates defiance.”

  As I place the ring on her finger, she gives the gorgeous laugh that made me fall in love with her.

  “Oh my God, this is beautiful!”

  “You’re beautiful.” I press my mouth against hers. The kiss stirs down deep, testing my temptation.

  I rest my forehead against hers, speaking for only us to hear. “From the minute I first met you, you’ve been my bone. All challenge. Big trouble. You’ve changed my life. You showed me I could love again. And love so much harder. You mean the absolute world to me. So, let’s hurry the rest of this party so I can have you.”

  “Damn, I want you so bad right now, Dom.” She giggles against my chest then steps back, flexing her ring finger. “Hey, guys, I’m going to be Mrs. Alvarez!”

  The women descend on her with hugs. A little while later, an attendant hands Aria gifts. Though we have a photographer, I lean against the dessert table, watching her through the lens of her vintage camera, taking a few pictures. She’d been hesitant about bringing it this morning when I suggested it. Now, I know it’s because of Dario.

  I guess I have our entire life to help her through his mess. It’s a challenge loving her, but one that I don’t mind because the look on her face in utter bliss is priceless.

  “This one is for you.” The attendant holds up a small gift.

  “Me?” I cock a brow.

  “Yup,” Aria replies mindlessly, peeling into a gift box from Papi wrapped with too much Scotch tape.

  “Mami, you got me something on your birthday?” I shake my head, reaching into the green bag.

  “Oh, wait!” Aria pops out of her chair as I grab on to something. “Don’t open―”

  “What’s this?” I cock a grin, holding a picture frame close to me. I half expect to see the tit pic I was denied years ago.

  “Well, what is it?” Roslyn asks.

  Aria’s cheeks burn. “It’s nothing.”

  “M-hmm, I definitely wanna see it!” Siobhan adds.

  “It’s not nothing.” I gape at the image. “Papi, you did a great job with me. I hope I follow in your footsteps.”

  I hold up the framed picture of an ultrasound. I know Papi wrestles with his parenting and disownment of Dario, but a smile speeds over his face as Aria burrows hers in my chest.

  Voice muffled, she snaps, “I didn’t mean to spite my gramps this much.”

  Her abuelo growls, “Negative one million. Baby before marriage.”

  Yasiel cracks up. The nerves Aria holds on to fade as she laughs, and everyone else does too.

  “I have all my life to make him like me, Aria.”

  “He . . . likes . . . you, really,” she replies between laughter. “I honestly thought we were doing a me-and-you thing today. Also, I was going to give you the gift and beg you to elope.”

  “You propose? To a Cuban man?” I squeeze her relentlessly.

  “Sheesh, Dom, I was kidding. But as you can see, I’m the one in big trouble with Gramps. The vein in his forehead is pulsating.”

  “No, mami. You’re not your abuelo’s trouble anymore. As I said, you’re my trouble now.”

  THE END

  Alternate Ending

  I hope the Extended Epilogue offered all the closure and “Happily Ever After” you were looking for. Now, for my favorite part—I’m a big fan of twisty endings. So, this alternate ending is in El Santo’s point-of-view and takes place a little over a year later. Enjoy!

  ~ Amarie

  El Santo

  I open the driver door to my wife’s Range Rover, pulling in another lungful of fresh air. Most call it thick, muggy, but if you’ve been locked up and fighting death row for almost four years, this is magnifico. I run a hand along my buzz cut then place the baseball cap low.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Sí, mami,” I purr, reaching over to clasp the back of my wife’s neck. The kiss is passionate, offering all the emotion she needs. Her father’s money and power executed the perfect plan. Nina funded the gatherings of my followers over the years and broke me out of the supermax prison. While our tongues tangle, all that’s on my mind are the opportunities at the tips of her tiny, manicured fingers.

  “I love you,” Nina murmurs. My mouth tips at the edges. She bought herself a ten-carat wedding ring when she married me on the inside. She can’t expect me to parrot her sentiments.

  Nina opens a briefcase next to her expensive heels. “Which would you like, papi?” She pulls out a machete. Ignoring her, I’m out of the car while she brandishes a butcher knife.

  We’re in the driveway of an affluent one-story home. My eyes sweep across the Spanish-style architecture. A lush oasis of palm trees provides precisely what I desire—a covering. The security system was disabled and masked by a dummy account, completed by one of my followers hours ago. This is what marriage and allegiance have to offer.

  “Which one, Dario?” Nina pulls me out of my musing. A 9-millimeter rests in her palm.

  I glance down. “None of them, mami.”

  She squeals. “You’ll kill her with your bare hands?”

  The fingers of my left hand encircle Nina’s throat. We spent many conjugal visits with me choking my dick down her throat, amongst other sweet places.

  Her stilettoes scrape across the clay-tiled drive. My hold sends her reeling onto her tippy toes. Years of working out in solitary have made me a beast.

  My lips caress her earlobe. “Now, why would I want to kill my LeAnna?”

  “We-we . . .”

  I loosen my grip on her throat so that she can respond. “You promised to kill them before we left the States for good, Dario. The window for us to leave will be closing very soon.”

  “My followers said Dominic is at Chico’s record label in Hollywood, sí?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s my enemy, sí?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bueno, you’re beginning to understand. I love LeAnna. Where I go, now that I’m out, she goes.” Though my declaration was a low murmur, I squeeze her slender neck tighter. My other hand, a tight fist, launches like a rocket. I punch her in the temple. Lights out.

  Hand dominating Nina’s throat, I drag her unconscious body toward the rear of the car and pop the trunk.

  I fold Nina inside, where the money she ac
quired for my escape is already in duffle bags. It’s my money now—mine and LeAnna’s. But Nina’s correct; we must move quickly.

  A blueprint of Dominic’s home is ingrained in my psyche. I saunter around the one-story house to the courtyard. A turquoise tiled fountain and wrought iron seats are in the center. Along the perimeter are sliding glass doors. The nursery is opposite the living room, and at the rear of the courtyard is the sliding glass door leading to the master suite where Dominic fucks our amor.

  I slide the tablet from my pocket to confirm the override for the security system was enabled, offering the security company the perfect illusion. One of my followers happens to be a digital security consultant like me. LeAnna’s in bed. My followers have shared how exhausted she’s been recently. Before I go to her, I jimmy the lock on the nursery. I’m drawn toward the baby—Dominic’s son.

  I’m conscious of my every move while working the latch open. Soft music plays through wall speakers. Envy weighs heavy with every single step I take into the room decorated with tan colors, tigers, and burlap. His name is Gael, and he’s five months old, I believe. All the love I have in this world is for LeAnna. Her only. But if he looks like my hermano gemelo, will the love I harbor for LeAnna save his life?

  An hour later, I’m standing at the sliding glass door to LeAnna’s bedroom, waiting for her to awaken from an afternoon nap. She lifts into a seated position, stretching wide. The top of her breasts spill over the plunging collar of her silk negligee, and her ass slopes perfectly. I groan deep in my abdomen, missing her like summer rain. Missing us.

  She forks a hand through her hair, and mutters, “Oh shit, I overslept.”

  I press the volume of the Bluetooth at my ear, which is connected to the sound system inside of her smart home.

  She picks up the baby monitor from the nightstand and taps it on her palm. A silk robe slides from one of her shoulders as she grabs her cellphone and starts for the door. I press a button on my phone, which activates the sound system, allowing her to hear me too.

  Voice heavy by the gravity of missing her, I implore, “Turn around, LeAnna.”

  A few feet away from the bedroom door, LeAnna’s spine stiffens.

  “Drop your phone, mami. It’s disabled.” The cellphone shakes in her trembling, gorgeous, little fingers, which once brought me so much.

  “That’s right, mami. Turn around. Papi’s here. I missed you so much.” I remove the glove from my hand and press my index finger to the cool glass to outline her shape.

  She moves around slowly, and my lungs have filled to capacity. I remember the taste between those thighs, filling her up hard. I remember the day she surpassed anything Alejandra and I ever had. With my other hand, I hold up the photo of us lying in bed.

  “This isn’t real,” she mumbles, meandering toward the glass door.

  “I thought you’d forgotten. For seven hundred and forty-eight days, I assumed that you had forgotten or that my attempt to turn you into an ángel during our last encounter was an unforgivable act.”

  LeAnna stares up at me through a tearful, sparkling gaze. One hand fists her cellphone. Dominic’s on her mind. She’s considering calling him. I’ve been gone so long. I can’t fault her for such a grave mistake.

  I gesture toward the photo I’m pressing against the glass. “Then I got the photos of us. It took me this last year to formulate a fail-proof plan. This one says Santa Barbara on the back.”

  She places her hand where my palm is. The index finger of her other hand drawing across our shape.

  “Talk to me, LeAnna.”

  “I’m dreaming. Dario, I felt so sorry about what happened to you as a child.”

  She’s not listening. I’m not listening. As she mentions my cousin, Miguel, I growl, “This is no dream, mami.”

  Frigid fury masks her face. “But I don’t feel sorry for you any longer, Dario. Fuck you! You’ve been out of my head for a while now. This is a dream because you’re in my head—”

  “No, silly.” I laugh a little, recalling how she slipped on the green when I noticed her stalker. “It’s all technology.”

  “You’re in my head . . .” She glances around.

  “We’ll get to that later.” I lick my lips. Her innocence always did make my cock stiff. “If you need, I’ll call you Aria. I remember how you preferred it.”

  “No. Dario. Fuck you! I’m asleep. I’m still dreaming.”

  Moving my hand off the glass, which separates me from her, I pop it with the side of my fist. The thick windowpane echoes.

  She inhales deeply. The warm undertones of her mahogany skin fading fast. “Dario, how did you get out? How did? Gael . . . Gael . . .”

  “Don’t run, mami. Don’t—”

  She takes off in a full-on sprint.

  By the time mi amor shuffles into the nursery, I’m at the window, waiting. Her hurried pace falters. She clings to the crib rail, falling to the ground in a fit of sobs.

  “Un momento, mami.” I smile at her pointless hysteria.

  “No. I told you, Dario. The last time I saw you that I would fight for my child. I would . . .” She climbs to her feet, cursing my very existence.

  I meet her at the glass door, wheeling the stroller before it. Through the Bluetooth in my ear, Aria’s shouts have died out. When I look up, she’s staring at me, holding Gael.

  I stroke a hand across his chubby cheek. “He called me Da-Da.”

  “No. No! He’s mu-mbling, Dario. Nothing more.”

  “He’s mine, Aria,” I grit out, embracing our son tighter.

  “I haven’t seen you in almost four years, asshole. He’s Dominic’s baby.” She stops talking, holding out a shaking hand. “He’s yours. You love Gael. Sit our baby in the stroller. He’s not ready to see you yet. Come back later, o-okay?”

  My mouth tips at the edges. “I’m leaving now with my woman and my son. Go ahead, open the door for papi. Do it now, so that I don’t get angry, por favor.”

  “Place him gently back in the seat, Dario,” she groans. “Please, put my baby down.”

  “Don’t think I can’t let myself in. I did.” I hold Gael higher as proof of her delusions. His big hazel eyes widen as he smiles. “Now, what I need you to do is let me in like you used to, Aria.”

  “Just set him down.” Her fingers quiver at the latch. “Promise me that we can talk, and you’ll leave.”

  I rub my hand over his silky curls. “Aria, mi amor. I’m holding the baby, but my paciencia is wearing. All you have to do is LET ME IN SO WE CAN LEAVE!”

  Gael shutters in my arms as my voice rises like a tsunami. Mouth turned upside down, he cries. I softly pat Gael’s back, holding him against my chest. My lips plant at the crown of his curly head. “Papi’s here, mi amor. Mami needs to listen, sí?” I slam a hand against the door again. “You’re making him angry, Aria! Let me inside.”

  She opens the door, and the rage in me recedes like a wave drawing back into the ocean. Aria slips into my arms, and I hold her and our son. That’s where I was always meant to be. Inside Aria Jones’ head, body, heart . . . soul.

  Thank you for checking out Diablo Inside! The Alternate Ending was written purely for my enjoyment, although, I hope you got a kick out of it too. I’d love your opinion in the form of a review.

  Lastly, if Siobhan and Lincoln were familiar to you, your constant support is greatly appreciated. If not, here’s a challenge: grab Aria’s cousin’s story ASAP! Siobhan deals with a similar dynamic in Devil in Her Bed, where the pages of the story are just as scorching as they are suspenseful. Devil in Her Bed is now available on Audible and was Top #3 in the Audible Multicultural Best Sellers List.

  Other similar books by Amarie you might like, that are available in wide distribution are: have sexy mystery include:

  An Alpha’s Desire

  The Good Mistress (Also in Audiobook)

  Black Queen, Dark Knight

  August. (Also in Audiobook)

  Make Me Stay (Also in Audiobook)


  FEAR (Includes another sexy Brit)

  Zaccaro

  For Russian Mafia consider:

  Fearless (Also in Audiobook)

  Lawless

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  Amarie’s Next Release “Savage Husband”

  He vowed to always protect me, now he wants me dead.

  TRISTA

  Skyler Steele is powerful, ambitious, and . . . apparently my husband.

  How could I forget marrying the unforgettable Demigod? Most women call their wedding the happiest day of their lives, yet we don’t have a single momento as proof of our union.

  As I drown in Skyler’s dark, piercing gaze and tremble at his touch, it’s hard to see what lies beneath: his obsession with me.

  Or could the beautiful monster covet my money instead?

  SKYLAR

  My wife, Trista, is gorgeous as a trophy, and vigilant as a hawk. While there’s only one word for me: liar.

  Though Trista can’t recall our vows or declaring forever promises, all she needs to appreciate is how I leave her breathless while encircled in my arms.

  We’re playing a dangerous game. One she can’t remember, and I have ultimate control. If I continue having my way, Trista never will . . .

  That blurb gave me chills! I can’t wait to share the cover reveal with you for this epic steamy romantic suspense! All is not what it seems in this steamy BWWM romance that includes a hot, British . . . husband. Eh, maybe he’s her husband, maybe not, muhahahaaa. But Trista will be my strongest lead yet. She’s built an empire that no man can take. Or so, she hopes.

  Savage Husband will launch when it’s good and chilly outside. Hint: I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.