Becoming the Czar
The Delgado Files- Book 3
Table of Contents
Also by Olivia Gaines
DEDICATION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter One- Strength
Chapter Two- Might
Chapter Three- Meeting with Force
Chapter Four- Vigor
Chapter Five- Energy
Chapter Six- Intensity
Chapter Seven- Potency
Chapter Eight- Oomph
Chapter Nine- Eloquence
Chapter Ten- Cogency
Chapter Eleven- Poke
Chapter Twelve- Grunt
Chapter Thirteen- Brawn
Chapter Fourteen- Juice
Chapter Fifteen- Punch
Chapter Sixteen- Welly
Chapter Seventeen- Effectiveness
Chapter Eighteen- Becoming the Czar
Epilogue - One year later.
Maple Sundaes & Cider Donuts
Chapter One - Gemütlichkeit
Blind Copy
Prologue
Chapter One – Lookalike
About the Author
Pssst...before you go.
Davonshire House Publishing
PO Box 9716
Augusta, GA 30916
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.
© 2020 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin
Copy Editor: Teri Thompson Blackwell
Cover: Corbin Media, LLC
Olivia Gaines Make-Up and Photograph by Latasla Gardner Photography
ASIN:
ISBN:
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 10 9 8
First Davonshire House Publishing November 2020
Also by Olivia Gaines
The Men of Endurance Series
A Walk Through Endurance: Olivia Gaines & Siera London
A Return to Endurance By Olivia Gaines & Siera London
The Art of Persistence By Olivia Gaines
Intervals of Love
Enduring Emily
An Enduring Christmas – Winter 2019
The Technicians Series
Blind Date By Olivia Gaines
Blind Hope By Olivia Gaines
Blind Luck By Olivia Gaines
Love Thy Neighbor Series
Walking the Dawg: A Novella
Through the Woods: A Novella
Life of the Party: A Novella
Modern Mail-Order Brides
North to Alaska
Montana
Oregon Trails
Wyoming Nights
On a Rainy Night in Georgia
Bleu, Grass, Bourbon
Buckeye and the Babe
The Tennessee Mountain Man
Stranded in Arizona
Maple Sundaes and Cider Donuts
The Zelda Diaries
It Happened Last Wednesday
A Frickin' Fantastic Friday
A Tantalizing Tuesday
A Marvelous Monday
A Saucy Sunday
A Sensual Saturday
My Thursday Throwback
Slivers of Love Series
The Deal Breaker
Naima's Melody
Santa's Big Helper
The Christmas Quilts
Friends with Benefits
The Cost to Play
A Menu for Loving
Thursdays in Savannah
DEDICATION
For Olivia. Happy Birthday.
“Easy reading is damn hard writing.”
- Nathaniel Hawthorne
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To all the fans, friends, and supporters of the dream as well as the Facebook community of writers who keep me focused, inspired, and moving forward.
Write On!
“Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.” – Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 2
Chapter One- Strength
The sun, seemingly angry at the blood vessels in Yuñior Delgado’s right temple, peered through the thin white sheer curtains reminding the young Czar of several issues, the primary being the headache which throbbed to no end. The second issue that also throbbed was the gunshot wound in his shoulder aching with a ferocity each time he turned over in the bed. The third was the woman who slumbered next to him, nuzzling close to his neck, reminding him of the throb in his lower extremities as well as the inability to please her as he so desired, and the last issue was the weight that seemed to never leave his chest.
“I am here,” he whispered into the quietness of the room.
A small voice spoke back, also whispering, “I am here too, Hermano.”
Yuñior cracked his heavy lids, trying to determine the hour of the morning and to locate the small voice. He didn’t have to look far since the sound attached to the small body was sitting in the middle of his chest. As much as he wanted to be angry with the little lady, he could not. Questions did pop into his head of how she managed to worm her way into his bed chambers, yet again, while his bedroom door had been double bolted and secured with a key.
“Isabella, how did you get into my room?” he asked, trying to shield his morning breath with his hand.
“Yuñior, somebody locked the door, and I couldn’t get in,” she said, shifting her weight, forcing a loud grunt and a swoosh of air from his mouth. Isabella waved her hand over her nose, indicating her brother’s breath left a great deal to be desired so early in the morning.
“I locked the door so you couldn’t come inside, Isabella. I wanted some privacy,” he said calmly, opening both eyes to peer at her small angelic face.
“What do you mean, privacy? Like Diadra with no panties on showing her privacy? Yuñior, does she not have any panties? I think you should buy her some,” Isabella said, lifting the covers to spot Diadra’s bare bottom. Her tiny index finger pointed at the bare bum to prove her point.
The eldest of Isabella’s brothers did not respond to her question, but instead opted to point out another obvious observation.
“Isabella, are you using the back hallways to come into my room? You should not do that. It is not safe, little one.”
“Lupita was cleaning the cobwebs, and I found the door, and it led to your room. I like to come in here and take my naps. The sheets smell like you,” Isabella said proudly, “but now it’s time to get up. Papa said we are running the sevens today.”
“And when did you hear Papa say this?” Yuñior asked, knowing his father never mentioned the fields where they would have coffee tastings until the morning of the event. Once Eduardo Delgado decided which fields he wanted to test for quality control, a rider would be sent forward to notify the family in charge of the field to prepare for the arrival of the Fer de Lance, the name of the viper etched into Eduardo’s skin and the deadliest of the vipers in South America. The name fit his father to a tee.
He, on the other hand, wore the yellow eyelash viper on his chest, a small serpent, masterful in camouflage with a nasty bite. The Bocaracá, his viper title, was well-known throughout Central America and was highly feared by many since they were unable to see the pit viper hanging on the branches or nestled in the bushes. The name also fit Yuñior Delgado. What did not fit was his little sister in his bedroom first thing in the morning before he had an opportunity to gather his thoughts.
A knock came at the door. Diadra, his lady love, moaned at the intrusion as
she turned over to spot Isabella in the bed with his meddlesome little sister watching her closely. Instinct made Diadra grab for the covers to shield the bare portions of her body. The knock grew louder when he didn’t respond.
“Sí?” Yuñior answered the knock he knew belonged to his brother.
“Papa said we are running the sevens. Fifteen minutes,” Andres called out into the heavy wooden door.
“Bueno,” he called back, pushing his little sister off his chest, and swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Diadra, you must rise. Wash your face, brush your teeth and put on jeans, long sleeves, and closed-in shoes. We are running the sevens today.”
Diadra Parsons didn’t know what any of that meant and she didn’t care. In the hallway, she could hear the Lady of the Lands, Ryanne Delgado, Yuñior’s stepmother, calling for her daughter. Isabella slid off the side of the bed, trying to hide. Groaning at the early hour, she also frowned at the child who never slept and the man who didn’t seem to either, holding the rumpled covers in her arms and pulling the bedding over her head.
“Diadra, rise and dress. We have less than fourteen minutes to be downstairs and ready to go,” Yuñior said.
“Go on without me. I’ll get up in a minute, shower, pack, and get ready to head home,” she said, rolling over to nestle her head into the pillow.
Yuñior was outdone with both Isabella and Diadra this morning. He grabbed for the covers, pulling them back to expose cocoa brown legs, a patch of girl curls which made his blood simmer, and a perfectly shaped breast. If only he had more time this morning and his sister wasn’t in the room, the day could have started differently, with less animosity.
“Thirteen minutes. Get up and get dressed. We have to be downstairs. You do not want to make my father wait,” Yuñior cautioned, moving to the bedroom door. He turned the large key protruding from the door lock, pulling the wooden entry way open to meet the eyes of his stepmother. “Good morning, Señora. Isabella is here.”
Ryanne peered in the room to spot the naked butt of Diadra making her way into the bathroom. A scowl crossed her face when she looked at her stepson, not questioning but wondering, then looking at her daughter. The spiderwebs in her hair said she’d been in the back halls, which were a dangerous thing to do.
“Did Isabella sleep in here with you two?” Ryanne asked her stepson. Isabella materialized from around the side of the bed, offering her mother a brilliant smile.
“No, Mama, I slept in my bed. I can’t sleep with Yuñior and Diadra because she doesn’t have any panties. She was nakey under those covers but I think Yuñior likes her like that,” Isabella added, although no one asked her.
Yuñior’s only reaction was to usher his sister out the bedroom. He gave a nod of his head to Ryanne and closed the door to complete his dressing and slip on his black boots.
“Ten minutes,” he said aloud as Diadra came from the bathroom fully dressed, her hair wild and eyes wide.
“I don’t want to do anything interesting at this hour of the morning, let alone run the sevens. What are the sevens, and why do I have to participate?” she wanted to know, slipping on a pair of brown boots given to her last night by Yuñior’s grandmother. “I’m planning to go home today. Ed, I thought you were taking me home.”
“Diadra, first I must go into the office, settle a few matters, take inventory, and then I will have you home in time for a late lunch,” he said.
“I’m not awake,” she moaned, leaning into him on his good side. “Will this sevens require me to be sociable? I don’t think I can manage sociable this morning.”
“You will do fine,” he replied, tying a green bandana around her neck and placing a baseball cap on her wild hair.
“Lead on, Señor,” she said, yawning.
To Yuñior, he’d never seen a more stunning sight first thing in the morning. He led the way down the front stairs to be greeted at the base by Andres, his younger brother by two years, who smiled at Diadra, tipping the edge of his Bolero with a morning greeting.
“We are opening seven, seventeen, and twenty-seven today,” Andres informed his brother, handing Yuñior a tablet. “Hermes said it is a good batch, but until we sample the beans, we won’t be certain. The coca leaves on twenty-seven have an infestation and I don’t think the chrysanthemum oil is helping.”
“And what of seventeen?” Yuñior asked.
“They have been tasked with breakfast,” Andres responded.
“Bueno. Did we bring up a horse for the lady?”
“She will have to ride with either Angel or Micah. The Abuelitos are riding with us this morning. We have no horses to spare,” Andres said.
Diadra, listening, but not comprehending fully, squinted as she looked out the door to spot all the horses. She said nothing, making a quiet U-turn to head towards the stairs and go back to bed. It was too early to be riding a horse, too early to be sociable, and too early to sample coca leaves. She wasn’t having any of it.
Micah, the third son of Eduardo Delgado, stared at Diadra as if she were a puzzle he needed to solve before he broke his fast. His eyes were on the lady as he spoke to his oldest brother. He walked around her, looking at her bottom.
“Yuñior, she may not be able to ride with me,” Micah said, looking at her butt. “Diadra, how much do you weigh?”
“Excuse me?” she gawked, turning back around, shocked that he could ask such a question.
Yuñior tapped his brother on the shoulder, pointing towards the door. His eyes too were now on Diadra, eyeing her up and down, and then he smiled, holding his hands palms up as if he were balancing the scales.
“Roughly 56 or 57 kilos,” he said, smiling at her. “She can ride with Angel. Angel, saddle up.”
“I’m not riding on the back of an animal with a ten-year-old,” she said.
“He is a much better horseman than Micah,” Yuñior replied.
“Why can’t I ride with you?”
“The distance we must travel, Thunder will not be able to run with the added weight,” he said the last word as he stared into her eyes. “Once we begin, you shall understand why. Time’s up. We must ride.”
“I’m going, but I’m not going to like it,” she said, walking outside the door. She bellowed out a good morning to everyone, who was mounting up on their assigned horses. Yuñior grabbed her shin, hoisting her up on the rear of the horse with Angel. The little man, grinning, tugged on Diadra’s hands and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, patting her fingers.
“No harm shall come to you,” Angel said with a fierce pride. “I will not fail my brother.”
“I know kid, but please don’t fail me either,” Diadra whispered in his ear as the boy clicked his tongue and the horses took off down a back path barely visible in the early morning light.
DIADRA HATED HORSES. She despised the smell but more than anything she hated being on the back of one as it made headway through shrubs and low hanging trees. The sun was up and already hotter than the sweat beads between a fat ladies boobies as the family made way through the green fields of the Delgados. The field hands were out working, waved gloved fingers to the family as they rode by. Angel was indeed a good horseman, and he leaned back, talking to her as they rode.
“Diadra, soon we must go fast,” he said in a soft voice. “When the back legs of the horse go down, you raise your butt up. Use the stirrups to push yourself out of the saddle. When the front legs of Gusto go down to the soft earth, so does your butt.”
“Huh?” she asked, holding on.
“When Gusto’s back legs hit the ground, raise your butt up, and when his front legs go down to the ground, you sit down in the saddle. It is a constant motion, up and down, up and down. If not, you shall be very sore tonight,” Angel told her.
“Got it,” she said, trying it out. She adjusted herself several times, looking for a rhythm and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was doing it all wrong by the expression on Yuñior’s face. The expression was a look of approval which me
ant more than likely, it looked as if she were pulling a sexy cowgirl ride on the back of the horse. She mouthed the word, “Pervert!”
Yuñior smiled, pulling away from the pack to ride ahead of the group to an open field. The horses all came in line as he held up his right hand. Everyone lifted bandanas up over their noses and mouths as if they were about to ride into town and rob the local bank. Diadra didn’t know what was about to happen, but the horses did. They pawed at the soft dirt, chomping at their bits, ready to ride. She lifted her bandana over her nose and mouth as well.
“Hold tight, Diadra. Hold tight,” Angel cautioned as he kicked the sides of his horse and Gusto took off at breakneck speed across the open field. All the voices of the family were silent as they rode with determination. Diadra clung to Angel. Terrified. Exhilarated. Amazed. Then, as quickly as it began, the sprint across the open field ended.
“Abierto Siete!” Yuñior yelled out as they entered into an open field. Yuñior dismounted, along with Micah, Andres and finally Angel, who handed Diadra the reins.
“Hold the reins loosely. Do not pull on them or Gusto will start to run,” Angel warned and slid off the horse to the ground.
He was so small, yet exuded a confidence which she respected. Watching Yuñior work, she also gained a new respect for him and his knowledge of the land and this world where he would be king. The man who would be Czar stood among his flock. He spoke with a friendliness with the workers who also seemed to like him and not fear the man who issued orders to the workers who listened at him speak with a view of reverence as he issued orders and instructions.
“Micah, collect samples of the coffee leaf miners and coffee leaf borers which seem to be flourishing on the plants. If they are not stopped before spreading to the other fields, the coffee crops will be ruined,” Yuñior said to his brother.
“Sí, Yuñior,” Micah replied, taking small jars from his satchel to collect samples to take back to what Diadra assumed would be his lab.
Yuñior continued speaking to the man in charge of field seven. “Guillermo, add a quarter cup of lemon oil to the mixture, give a light spray over these once more, and give me an update in the morning,” Yuñior said.
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