Violent Triumphs

by Jessica Hawkins

  I hadn’t realized we were still in one. I should’ve fucking paid closer attention.

  “So you want Cristiano’s global network and my shipping infrastructure, eh?” Costa said. “To distribute on a larger, more international scale. Is that right?”

  “Everyone will benefit, even both of you—which is generous on my part considering the rules of this world.”

  “Which are?” I asked, even though I knew. Even though I didn’t give a fuck.

  But I asked to keep him talking. Natalia was squirming now, definitely close to freeing herself.

  “The rules mandate that I kill you for your sins against my family,” Diego said. “But I’m willing to take another form of payment. We’re developing a new drug and want to explode onto the market. We can mostly handle North America, but we need both of you in order to take Europe, Asia, the Middle East. Your income will double.”

  I watched Diego’s face closely as Costa grunted. “Then why blackmail us?” he asked. “Make a proposal, and my partner and I will discuss it. I won’t do business with you while you’ve kidnapped my daughter.”

  “Because Cristiano’s answer will be no.” Diego strolled backward. “He needs motivation.”

  My chest locked up as he rounded Natalia’s chair and set his hands on her shoulders. Touched her. Massaged her. My body shook with an impending explosion. I finally let myself look at Natalia for more than a few seconds. I tried to draw from the strength in her eyes. She was trying to soothe me when it needed to be the other way around.

  I love you, I said with my gaze. I’m coming for you. No matter what.

  I inhaled through my nose. I needed a level head—and to keep his eyes on me. He stood behind her now, and if he saw her restraints broken or even loose, that could only make things worse.

  “Narcotics distribution is what Belmonte-Ruiz demands in exchange for all that you’ve cost them,” Diego explained. “But then there’s what I want.”

  What had Diego desired from the start?

  Revenge. Legacy. Power.

  And at any cost.

  I crossed my arms. “Nothing will bring our parents back to life, Diego.”

  “You’re wrong. Belmonte-Ruiz is the most successful human trafficking syndicate in the country. With their approval, your help, and my guidance, the de la Rosa cartel will scale that business to an international level—like our father would’ve wanted.”

  It was as Max, Natalia, and I had guessed several months ago. Diego asked me to play God. To enslave, torture, and break innocent people. To relinquish the code I lived by. He asked of me the one thing I couldn’t give him. That was why he had Natalia. “I won’t do it.”

  Diego squeezed Natalia’s shoulders. “Then Natalia will pay the price,” Diego said, “and if you think that means death, it’s far too easy.”

  I stilled. “You care about her too much to sell her.”

  “That’s why, unlike you, I’m trying to keep her safe,” he said. “But maybe our father had it right when he sold Angelina.”

  My chest tightened at the mention of the childhood crush I’d lost. Diego had been too young to be part of the deal my father had made to teach me a lesson and knew only what I’d told him during our time as young adults at Costa’s ranch. I’d been vulnerable with him. Revealed how I’d still thought of Angelina and wished I’d had the means to find her.

  “Sometimes, if you want to learn to be ruthless, you have to start by ripping out your own heart,” Diego said calmly. “I’d rather not do that by giving up Natalia, but I will. You understand.” Diego addressed both Costa and me. “You taught me early the dangers of emotional attachments.”

  My lesson had been Angelina. Diego’s had been witnessing not just a father’s death, but a mother’s, too.

  It had changed us both in very different ways.

  “Bianca suspected,” Costa said. “She had a feeling what you were. Are.”

  “Regardless.” Diego shook his head. “You went to extreme lengths to see me suffer, and make no mistake I want that for you, too.” Diego slid down the elastic of Natalia’s off-the-shoulder dress, rubbing her bare biceps as a rock hardened in my stomach. “We’ll grow our business with or without you, but we can do it exponentially faster with your help.” He paused. “You’ll never have to come face to face with the lives you buy, sell, and trade—they’ll always be nameless, faceless strangers. But Natalia?” He glanced at the top of her head then back up. “By tomorrow, she could be on a yacht in the Mediterranean, at the mercy of a sheikh so powerful that nobody, not even you, can touch him. It’s your choice which hell you want to live in.”

  My blood boiled. This was the chance I’d taken when I’d followed two paths that should never cross—angering dangerous people by disrupting their systems . . . and falling in love. I wouldn’t trade the impact we’d made or my love for Natalia for anything, but fuck Diego for knowing exactly how to manipulate me.

  My fury had coiled too tightly. I slammed my fists on the desk under me and sent everything flying. “I should’ve murdered you when I’d had the chance.”

  “I don’t think anyone would disagree on that point.” Diego patted Natalia’s arm, smiling at me. “So, do we have a deal, partner?”

  Natalia shook her head as she mouthed, “No.”

  Diego was just demented enough to follow through with his threat against Natalia. I had no choice. Whatever Natalia asked me to do or not do, I wouldn’t put her in harm’s way if I could help it.

  Diego flattened his hand on Natalia’s chest and slid it down until it breached the neckline, over her breast.

  No. Motherfucker. No—

  He flicked a white envelope from her dress. “If you need another reason to comply, let this be it.” He tore it open and pulled out a black-and-white photograph.

  I squinted. What . . .?

  As the image before me took shape, my throat went bone dry. It couldn’t be.

  “What is it?” Costa asked, his eyes narrowed.

  My mouth moved, but my ears rang so loudly, I never heard myself say it. “A sonogram.”

  “What?” Costa roared. “Vete a la chingada.”

  He cursed Diego, while I couldn’t even form a word.

  News I’d yearned for over the last few months, I suddenly wished away. I should’ve been elated. Instead, I prayed to the Virgin Mary that it wasn’t true. My knees buckled as a fear I’d never known weighed on my shoulders. It couldn’t be. If I let myself believe it, I would either rage or crumble, and neither reaction would help Natalia.

  They were lies.

  Diego had planted the image to unnerve me. To get me to agree to his terms. It wasn’t true. There was no baby . . .

  I held onto the desk and looked from him to her, the only one who mattered here. I met her anguished eyes. Her lips pressed together hard, bloodless and white—I knew that look. She was doing everything in her power not to cry.

  My vision blurred. The ground underneath my feet rolled. It was true.

  It would explain why she’d invented a wrist injury last week to stop our training. And why she hadn’t fought back when Diego had taken her from the parade.

  It was the one mindset I’d never thought to prepare her for.

  She was worried for her condition.

  I thought I’d done everything I could to equip Natalia, but this was a situation none of us had ever faced. I’d failed her. I wanted to turn away so I wouldn’t break down right there, but I couldn’t let Natalia think I’d left her alone in this for a second.

  We were in it together.

  I limbered up my shoulders as if preparing for a boxing match. “Fuck you,” I said.

  Diego responded as I wanted, coming out from behind Natalia’s chair to look at us straight on. “Is that a yes then?”

  Natalia’s head whipped up. “Don’t do it, Cristiano,” she said, choking back her tears. “Those people need you. It’s everything you’ve worked for. Don’t make the deal.”

  The thought o
f betraying those I’d helped, and those I might still help, chilled my insides. It wouldn’t be forever; it couldn’t be. I’d find a way out. But every life mattered. If I didn’t believe that, I would never have taken on the thankless, impossible mission to try to make a dent in the sex and forced labor trades.

  If I did this, I’d go from savior to enemy.

  I couldn’t ruin countless lives to save one, could I?

  To save two.

  The fates of my unborn child and my wife were in the hands of a man who’d spent twenty years waiting to see me suffer.

  Natalia’s eyes pleaded with me not to do it. But didn’t she know I could never walk away from the love of my life? From our baby? That I would do whatever it took to keep her safe? Even if it meant breaking all my rules and becoming the worst version of myself . . .

  My father.

  I nodded once. “You have a deal.”

  25

  Natalia

  “You have a deal.”

  Cristiano’s words hung in the room.

  My heart broke knowing what it had cost him to agree to the arrangement. He’d call into question more than a decade of work. And going forward, every day, he’d die a little inside aiding a true monster—because I was in its grip.

  Except I wasn’t. I was going to save him—us—from that pitch-black future.

  While Diego had listed his demands to Cristiano, I’d put everything I’d had into getting out of my restraints—and I’d succeeded.

  I’d freed my hands.

  Now, I had to free myself—and my husband and baby.

  My throat went completely dry. I couldn’t lose my nerve now. There was no time to strategize, and yet, one false move could cost me everything.

  I had to act before he turned around and saw I’d gotten loose.

  He’d replaced his gun inside his jacket. I had to make sure once I was up, he didn’t have even a second to reach for it.

  My eyes darted around the room and landed on the stack of bricks against one wall. They were the closest thing to me that could do serious damage. It had to be that, and it had to be now, while Diego distracted himself with the logistics of their deal.

  “One week?” Cristiano asked in response to something Diego had said. “It’s impossible.”

  “You’ll find a way,” Diego said.

  My heart pounded as I silently removed my high heels.

  “I don’t do business with traffickers. I need—” Cristiano’s voice faltered when I stood, but his eyes stayed trained on Diego. “I need time for my connections to . . . to build me a new network.”

  “That would take too long,” Diego said.

  In bare feet, I tiptoed to one corner.

  Diego turned his head slightly, and Cristiano said, “Come on, cabrón!” so loudly, Diego’s head snapped forward again. “Do you want this done sloppy,” Cristiano said, “or do you want it done right?”

  Diego seemed to consider the question. He actually meant to go through with this—to build a new cartel at any cost.

  And whether it was Diego’s true motive or just icing on the cake—he believed he’d now be the only person in the world with any power over Cristiano de la Rosa.

  But didn’t he know that title belonged to me?

  Only I could tame the beast. Today, tomorrow, and forever. Cristiano was mine.

  I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I used two hands to pick up a brick from the top of the pile. I tested its weight. Heavy. Solid. I raised my eyes to the back of Diego’s head. At least I wouldn’t have to look him in the face. My childhood best friend. My first love.

  I shut my eyes briefly, opened them, and ran forward.

  Don’t hesitate. Don’t—

  Diego spun around. I hefted the brick across his face. Smack. Blood splattered. His body flew to one side as his guttural shout filled the small space.

  My stomach heaved as I froze.

  Tell me you love me, Talia.

  Tell me you’re still my girl.

  “It’s not over!” Cristiano’s shouting jarred me.

  Diego was still on his feet, doubled over as he spit out a tooth. He rushed at me. I stumbled backward, tripped over the lamp’s cord, and dropped the brick as I threw my hands back and caught myself before my ass hit the floor. I used my momentum to push off the ground and spring back to my feet.

  I refused to go down, especially because of Diego.

  He came at me again, leaning to one side, struggling to focus his eyes.

  I picked up the metal folding chair and raised it over my head. I brought it down as hard as I could, but he blocked my blow, grabbed the seat, and used it as leverage to fling me into a wall.

  As my head knocked against concrete, I shook off a bout of dizziness.

  “Talia—” Diego coughed, blood streaming from his head as he tried to grab me.

  I ducked out of the way, snatched the brick off the ground, and whirled around.

  This time, I aimed not for his head but for his brain.

  The brick thudded against his skull. He staggered back, his eyes pleading with me, then fell to his knees. I kicked him onto his back, jumped on top of him, and lifted the slab again.

  He was hanging on by a thread.

  I just had to do it one more time.

  Don’t look at his face.

  He groaned. My eyes jumped up. Covered in blood, his head dropped to one side, eyes half-open. I’d crushed one of the high cheekbones that made him so beautiful, one I used to touch with reverence.

  “When I go, you’ll be by my side, okay?” he said. “I’m with you, life or death.”

  “Life or death,” I’d responded.

  I had so much more to live for now, and everything to fight for. It was me or him.

  I slammed the brick down. His skull collapsed. His eyes remained open but distant. One socket had caved in.

  My chest seized. Breath halted. Throat closed, cutting off my air.

  I shook, and my hands loosened around the weapon.

  But there was no time to panic. It wasn’t over—the fight was never over.

  I jolted into action, frisking his legs until I had his folding knife. Sticking it between my teeth, I found the gun tucked into his jacket pocket.

  I got to my feet holding both weapons. Ears ringing, I turned around. Cristiano’s beautiful, ashen face filled the screen.

  Home.

  I stumbled toward him. “Cristiano.” My strangled voice sounded far away.

  “I know, baby. I know,” he said, his jaw set, eyes shrewd as they darted around the room, then refocused on me. “You did good—but you’re not done yet.”

  My heart raced. I willed it to slow and pulled myself together. “There are at least eight men outside with guns.”

  His eyes quickly scanned my face before he turned his head over his shoulder and called for Gabriel. “I’m coming for you,” Cristiano promised me. “Do you know where you are?”

  I shook my head. “Some kind of huge warehouse.”

  “Get out of that room. Find a place to hide until I get there.”

  “There are too many of them.”

  “Listen, mi amor.” The calm in Cristiano’s voice settled my nerves. “Turn around and cut Diego’s throat so you know he’s dead. Don’t use the gun unless you absolutely have to. Check his body for a different phone, then hide and call me from it so we can try to trace it. If you encounter anyone—fight, Natalia.”

  I would fight. I had already. But me, with a knife, a pistol, and a baby to protect against all of them and their rifles?

  “I . . .” I held the weapons to my queasy stomach as my voice broke. “The baby. It’s true.”

  Cristiano gritted his teeth and swallowed. His father had warned him young never to form emotional attachments that could be painfully severed. This was the price of love. I couldn’t let him regret it.

  “Mindset, Natalia,” he said firmly. “You are the White Monarch. Don’t you see that? You’re the weapon, the sur
vivor, the killer. You can do this.”

  I had no other choice. I sucked in an inhale and nodded hard. “I couldn’t see anything as we came in—but the air pressure here is low. Thin,” I rushed out. I glanced over my shoulder, unnerved by the silence of the warehouse. “It’s like a forest. The ground is soft, lots of big trees—”

  “What kinds of trees?” Gabe asked, entering the frame behind Cristiano.

  “I don’t know. Pine? It’s dry—except, it almost sounded like it was raining outside. But it definitely wasn’t.”

  Cristiano glanced back at Gabriel. He nodded slowly, his eyes on me, but his thoughts somewhere else. “The monarch butterfly migration,” he said finally. “Must be. Their colonies cluster together in certain winter habitats. The oyamel fir only grows in high altitudes. There are so many butterflies, their wings sound like a rain shower.”

  “God’s messengers,” I whispered. They were here.

  “Sí. You’re protected,” Cristiano said and turned back to Gabriel. “Do you know where she is?”

  “These forests are small, and may be designated reserves, but Belmonte-Ruiz’s tunnel system runs right underneath that area with an entrance at the nearby Acapulco port.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, talking to himself, as if working through it. “It would make sense that they’d managed to build an operational facility there.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Under the cover of the Sierra Madre del Sur mountain range.” Gabriel met my eyes and nodded. “I know where you are.”

  One moment, Cristiano’s beautiful but drawn face looked back at me, and the next, I was alone. Cristiano was on his way. The TV monitors went dark, the warehouse office deafeningly silent. Diego’s blood covered my shaking hands. He’d lost, but what had I won? Wanting him dead wasn’t the same as committing the act. He was only the second person I’d ever killed, and at one point in time, I’d loved him more than anyone.