by S Williams
We’re both quiet for a minute, absorbing the story, letting it sink in.
“You know if we do this,” he says, shifting sideways, “we’ll be making even more enemies. We are exposing ourselves. More people will die, and our lives will really be at risk. One of us might die, Gianna.”
His words should intimidate me. They should make my heart leap and then pound down on my ribcage. They should terrify me, send me running… but for some reason, they don’t. My heart hardly reacts.
“Well, if I die, it’ll be a sacrifice I’m willing make.” I turn and press my body to his, meshing, wrapping my arm over his shoulder. “I don’t have much else to live for, Draco. Clark doesn’t need me. He’s been doing this on his own for years. The only person who needs me, whether he knows it or not, is Draco ‘The Jefe’ Molina.” His eyes shimmer from the flickering light. “I’m not backing down, and I’m not afraid to die.” I kiss him. Soft. Sweet. “I’m here, by your side. Let’s get back to the throne together.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the spark in his eye that he has now. Not ever before.
Beneath that spark lies determination, passion, ferocity, and my favorite of all, power.
A growl rides through his throat, and before I can process it, he’s between my legs again, consuming me with a kiss. Before it can register to my brain, he’s fully inside me, stroking softly. Not rough.
No hate.
No anger.
It’s gentle.
Sweet.
Sexy.
Perfection.
My moans ignite as he shudders, his cock pulsing inside me, lips on my neck, gripping me tight. My fingernails skate down his muscled back, digging into his hips, needing him to go deeper.
“It is our throne now,” he whispers in my ear, and then he stills, coming for the third time tonight, groaning softly in my ear like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “And I’m glad you know it, reina.”
33
DRACO
She’s lying beside me the next morning, her brown hair stretched out on the white pillow, wisps of it over her face.
I push the gold strands of hair away from her face, watching her breathe. Sigh. Moan in her sleep. Her skin is a soft shade of tan, the sunlight sweeping over her naked body with each inch spilling over the horizon.
My skin is much darker in comparison to hers, my hands appearing too rough to touch someone who still seems so delicate. I lay my hand on her shoulder, my palm sliding down her arm, dipping into the curve that leads to her hip.
I wish I could say I hate her.
I wish I could just walk away.
I don’t know when I became so fucking weak for this woman.
I shouldn’t fucking love her this much—I shouldn’t care.
Love is a fucking weakness.
Useless. Futile.
I will go to war for my business, for my deceased cousin—for my father’s name, and my mother’s freedom. I will set fire to anyone who disrespects me by letting him or her know who the king is…and she wants to do the same.
But if she dies…
If I lose her…
A sigh escapes me as I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling fan. It’s the crack of dawn, a light breeze making the curtains flap. The breeze drifts over my sweat-dampened skin.
Sleeping didn’t happen last night. It didn’t matter how completely satisfied my body was due to having her precious pussy wrapped around me, I still couldn’t close my eyes.
Too many thoughts are running through my mind. Too much I want to do, but can’t just yet. Not until the time is right. Not until I find that spiteful bitch and choke the life right out of her.
Gianna sighs, and I look over at her, just as she twitches in her sleep and groans, brows stitching. She has nightmares. I know it. I have them myself. They’re a grueling package deal that comes with wanting to be one of the most powerful, most dangerous people on earth.
I should send her away again, but she’ll only come running back.
Like a moth to a flame, she won’t be able to stay away from me.
And the truth is, I can’t stay away from her, either. It’s so fucking selfish of me. Instead of wanting her gone—back where it’s safe—I’d rather keep her here, around me. Letting her risk her life for mine. Risk it all for me.
Now, I see that I am not only fighting my own battle—I am fighting hers too.
She deserves happiness. Deserves to be free. She deserves to win, for once, get everything she’s ever wanted. And as soon as this is all over, she will.
I will give her the fucking world.
I will give her my all.
She will be happy.
Finally.
34
GIANNA
His side of the bed is empty when I awake. It’s not too cold, so maybe he just left.
Running a hand over my face, I toss the sheets away and press my feet on the tile floor, making way for the bathroom. I take a quick shower and get dressed in white shorts and a loosely knitted summer sweater that hangs off the shoulder.
I walk to the patio door, drawing it open and stepping onto the balcony. The warm breeze runs over my damp scalp, so soothing. It’s not too hot yet. The sun isn’t fully in the sky, but something tells me that when it is, the day will blaze away.
I have another splitting headache, and I’m still so damn exhausted, even after a pretty decent night’s sleep, but I won’t let it stop me from enjoying this day. Enjoying what we have for now.
There are things he and I have to discuss. Last night was like a dream—I never wanted it to end. It made me think of the future. It made me think about us.
I walk out of the bedroom and down the hallway, smelling syrup, cinnamon, and one of my salty favorites—bacon. As I step around the corner, past the bar and kitchen, I enter the dining area, and the table is filled to capacity—all but one seat that is right beside Draco’s, who sits at the head of the table.
I’m surprised to see Mrs. Molina is sitting with everyone. Her eyes barely linger on mine when she sees me. She drops her gaze and continues eating, putting her focus on her plate.
Clark is sitting beside Patanza, and Mrs. Molina beside Draco. Emilio has clearly pulled a chair up from the pool; it’s wedged between Mrs. Molina and Draco.
All eyes shift to me when I enter—all eyes but Mrs. Molina’s.
“Do you always sleep in late?” Clark asks, looking me over. “Early bird catches the worm, and all that other shit. Gotta stay on top, cousin.” His forehead creases as he puts his focus on me. “You good?” He gives Draco a glance, like he’ll lunge at him if he has to.
I smile. “I’m good, Clark. Just need some coffee to wake me up.”
Draco lowers his newspaper to look at me, running his eyes from head to toe. “Come, Gianna. Sit.”
A soft smile pulls at the corners of my lips as I walk behind the chairs, taking the empty one between him and Clark.
“Eat, reina,” he murmurs, and I don’t hesitate. I pile bacon and fruit onto my plate, but then my eyes land on the pancakes.
Pancakes? I quirk a brow, looking his way just as he looks at me.
“I had a taste for them,” he says, and there is nothing more. No need for him to go into the back story, or how he’s most likely trying to overcome his awful, bloody past.
I huff a laugh, biting into my bacon. Emilio fills my empty mug with coffee, and I thank him. He gives me a solid nod, but his eyes linger on mine longer than they should. I pull away, digging into my breakfast.
Forks scrape on china and lips smack as everyone devours their meals. For the most part, we are quiet, but the quiet doesn’t bother any of us. It’s…peaceful.
If only for now.
Draco clears his throat after taking a few hard gulps of his coffee. “There is something I need to say—and I will only say this once, and never again. I’ve already spoken to Emilio about it, so I’ll tell you all in English, so you can understand.”
Patanza s
traightens her back, giving him her undivided attention. I’m surprised she’s even eating breakfast with us. She normally doesn’t—would rather patrol and protect than waste time eating.
Clark lowers his glass of orange juice, and Emilio lowers his fork, still chewing. Mrs. Molina meets her son’s eyes for a brief moment and then drops them down to mine. I start to look away, knowing she’s probably still angry with me, but I catch a glimpse of something in her eyes.
Something I can’t quite explain.
Like she’s still wary of me, but still cares. Like she’s accepting my silent apologies with her eyes, without uttering a word.
Draco’s voice fills the room again, pulling my focus to him. “Everyone at this table has a purpose,” he starts. “Every single one of you are important to me in some way.” He looks at Clark. “You are important to Gianna, which makes you an important asset to me.”
Clark smirks, slouching back in his chair, like he’s proud of the status he’s accomplished with The Jefe in such a short amount of time.
“I know I have been restless. I know I have done things—unspeakable things—that may or may not let you sleep at night. I know I have been working you all hard—harder than ever before. But out there,” he says, holding a finger up and pointing, “is a threat that needs to be taken care of. And you all know that I will not rest until we find her. I will not rest until I see the breath leave her body. I don’t care about the territory she’s trying to take. That’s nothing—land I can easily get back with a snap of my fingers. Right now, I’m letting her relish in it, but that will be mine again once this is all over.”
He drops his hand, clenching his fist on top of the table. He shuts his eyes and starts to seethe like a wild bull. I drop my hand on top of his forearm, and he glances down at me, steadying his breaths, shutting his eyes briefly before opening them again.
“She took someone important from me—from us. He was important to many of us around this table. He left an impact, especially on me. Yes, he frustrated me constantly. Yes, he tested my boundaries—my limits…but that is what I loved about my cousin. I loved that he pushed me—drove me to do the things I needed to do. I loved that he tested me, because in this world, there is never a moment where I will not be tested. Whether he knew it or not, he was keeping me on my toes. He was keeping my power at its highest. He was doing all that he could, not only for himself, but for me to stay afloat as well.” He drops his head, some of his raven hair tumbling onto his forehead.
“We will find Hernandez and trust me, I will make her pay. But if you’re sitting at this table, it means I trust you in some way. And I am telling you now to accept who I am and how I do things, because it will only get worse from here. Things will only get dirtier until I win. I am not a man who begs, but right now, I am asking that you keep fighting with me. Keep going. We will get her. That is my word.”
Silence consumes each and every one of us. I don’t know how his words, even though they’re still brutal and gritty, are so powerful. I don’t know how he expects us to react after hearing that.
But, I do what I can. Say, what I can.
“I will always fight with you,” I whisper, grabbing his hand on top of the table and squeezing it. “Always, Jefe.”
“Sí, Jefe,” Patanza adds. “Siempre.”
“Always, hijo,” Mrs. Molina adds softly.
Clark clears his throat, holding his half-empty glass in the air. “As long as I come out of this on top too, I will be by your side, Jefe.”
“Good,” Draco murmurs. He squeezes my hand in return, sighing. “Finish your breakfast and then go pack lightly. I have a few calls to make, but as soon as I’m done, we will be on our way to Acapulco.”
“Acapulco?” Clark asks as Draco pushes back in his chair and stands.
“A lead was found by one of my tech men when I sent her the numbers and locations from Henry’s phone. Her voice was caught on a satellite phone. Location says she’s stationed somewhere in Acapulco.”
With those words, no one is finishing breakfast. We all push out of our chairs, ready to start packing—ready for this to be over with already.
“I’ll help you pack,” Patanza murmurs to me.
Draco, Clark, and Emilio are already out of the dining room. Mrs. Molina remains in her chair, and I look back at her. She speaks before I can get away.
“Emilio told me what he did for you two nights ago,” she says, her voice low.
I stop at the opening that leads to the hallway, turning to face her. My chin falls, words trying to escape, but I don’t say anything.
“When?” she asks.
“When what?” I murmur.
“You know what I’m asking.”
I press my lips, giving her the only answer I can. “Soon.”
She sighs, pushing back in her seat, stacking the plates beside her. “I am too old to hold onto grudges, Gia. I’ve gone through my fair share of mistakes. You didn’t trust him then, but you trust him now, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Good. Because he needs you right now. And that’s something he’ll never admit out loud.” She looks me over, her eyes tense, focused. “Protect him and yourself. I want to see you both when it’s all over.”
I give her a light nod and nothing more.
“Come on, let’s get your stuff packed,” Patanza says over my shoulder. She takes off, her boots crunching on the tile as she drifts down the hallway and toward the bedroom. Before I can get around the corner, Mrs. Molina calls my name again.
“Yes?” I answer when she steps closer.
“Make sure you don’t let him down again,” she says. “Or it will be my wrath you have to face the next time. Not his.”
She says it, and I know she means it. Her face is stale, but still soft somehow. Her eyes edgy, bordering on dangerous.
She may seem like a sweet, innocent woman, but I’m more than positive Mrs. Molina has gotten her hands dirty in the past.
Being with men like Draco, it changes you. You’re forced to defend yourself. Your hands are dirtied up the instant you take interest in a Molina, but as soon as you fall for one, it takes no time at all for the same hands to be smeared with someone else’s blood.
35
GIANNA
I thought we’d never fucking land.
When the wheels of the jet finally come to a stop, we all gear up, leaving the jet’s cabin, the soles of our shoes clinging to the black asphalt as a wave of sticky heat wraps around us, a taste of salt in the air, stinging my dry lips.
I gather my hair up, wrapping it into a tight bun, watching as Emilio leads the way to a silver SUV. He hustles to the driver side and bends down, patting the front tire until he comes across a key fob taped to it. He then unlocks the doors and we all get into the vehicle, not even bothering to buckle in.
“Where is he now?” Draco asks, pointing his gaze to the left, at Patanza.
“Still at the old factory,” Patanza answers.
Draco sighs, reaching down and pulling a gun from the holster strapped around his ankle. It’s a silver pistol. He wipes it clean, studies it for several seconds, and then hands it over to me.
I frown at it before meeting his brown eyes.
“Can never have too many,” he says, and I take it, looking it over. I run my thumb over the handle, but when I flip it over, that’s when I see the stamp.
My breath falters, my thumb pressing into it. A lion with its mouth wide open, giving a silent roar with a wild mane around its large head.
Beneath it are the initials L.N.
Lion Nicotera.
I peer up at him, eyes burning, but he’s already focused on me. “First gun your father ever gave to me. He sent me back home on a private jet with this, after Trigger Toni murdered my father. Told me to never let it out of my sight during my travels home. I clung to this gun like my life depended on it. Even when I got home, I kept it under my mattress for months. I still, to this day, have never used a bullet in t
his gun. I never wanted to, and maybe it’s a good thing. They’re your bullets now. Father to daughter.”
I swallow hard, feeling like sand is trapped in my throat. I don’t even know what to say.
He leans in, grabbing my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Never hesitate,” he says softly. “Just do.”
We park in front of a factory that many would probably never give a second look. It’s not big at all, made of what looks like old tin and wood. The windows are grimy and broken, and the area reeks of urine and vomit.
There are shacks not too far away. It’s so dark inside them, I can’t tell if they’re occupied or vacant.
Draco walks ahead, and we all follow his lead. Emilio catches up to him, drawing his gun and then pulling open the raggedy, creaking door.
Draco already has a black pistol in hand. He steps right through them and looks around, until his eyes catch something.
I follow after him as he walks to a splintered door and pushes it open.
“Jefe!” someone shouts.
I follow him inside the room with Daddy’s pistol in hand, and see a short, bald Caucasian man standing in front of five different computer screens. He wears glasses as thick as microscopes, has a salt-and-pepper moustache, and is wearing a plaid blue and white button down shirt. His khakis are dirty, like he fell recently and tried to dust himself off. He has a clumsy, geeky look about him.
His eyes shift over to mine when Draco bobs his head, and they expand into saucers.
“Oh!” He covers his mouth, looking between Draco and me. “This is—this is her!”
Draco’s lips press. “It is.”
“La Patrona,” he sighs, like the name is a fantasy to him. “I have heard a lot of things about you. It’s great to finally put a face to the name—and a pretty one, at that.”
