My chest started to cave, and I dug my fingernails into my palms, barely managing to keep from breaking down. That was probably what Cristiano wanted, to know the kind of power he had over not just my body but my mind.
“You barely touched your dinner,” he said with a frown. “In fact, you look a little pale. You need to eat more.”
“I can bring something,” Jaz said.
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Bring us a little bit of everything,” Cristiano said with a nod.
Jaz didn’t move but bit her bottom lip and laced her fingers behind her back. “¿Señor?”
“What is it?”
“She was asking questions,” Jaz said quickly, her eyes flitting toward me under her lashes. “About me and where I came from.”
Cristiano scolded me with a look. “Why are you questioning our staff, Natalia?”
“They’re not my staff.” I set my jaw as frustration simmered underneath my skin. “I was curious, that’s all.”
“So ask me. What did you tell her?” he asked Jaz.
“Nada. Nothing at all.” She shook her head hard. “I don’t know her. I don’t know who sent her. And I don’t trust her.”
“Me?” I asked.
“You trust me, don’t you?” Cristiano asked her. “Do you think I’d bring someone here who was a threat to you?”
After a moment, Jaz slowly shook her head. “No.”
“Natalia’s only curious. Like you, she’s also suspicious of those around her.” He popped off the top of the bottle and shook two pills into his palm. “Can she take these or do I need to be worried you might poison her?”
My heart thudded in the ensuing silence until Jaz laughed. “If I were going to poison her, I wouldn’t be so obvious about it.”
He winked. “That’s what I thought.”
There was an easiness between them I didn’t understand. She wasn’t fearsome so much as . . . flirtatious?
“Jaz, please draw the curtains for us,” he said.
“Claro. Of course,” she said with a nod and returned back inside. A pit formed in my stomach as she shut us off from the rest of the house.
Cristiano opened the water bottle and handed it to me with the pills. I tossed them back quickly.
“Come here,” he said.
“I am here,” I said. We weren’t a half meter apart.
“Closer.” He took my hand and brushed his mouth against the back of it. “It has taken all my effort to keep my hands off you tonight.”
Memories flashed across my mind—him cradling my face at the nightclub, running his roughened palms up my leg in my bathroom, encircling my ankle in the car. His touch so far had been callused but never cruel.
A thread of unwelcome desire tugged inside me at the idea that he’d been anxious to touch me again. What had stopped him earlier? Why did I care when I should just be thankful and let it lie? I didn’t want to respond to his touch. I couldn’t.
“Any closer and I’ll be on your lap,” I said.
“You’ve read my mind.”
“You’ve ignored me tonight.”
“I’m not ignoring you now.” He stared at me expectantly. Now that we were alone, his full attention was back on me. I could see why so many people sought it. First, the boy who’d lost his tooth. Then, throughout the night, many people had approached Cristiano, vying for his time. He hadn’t looked at any of them the way he looked at me now.
He tugged on my hand until I was standing, then pulled me across his lap. “This is where I like you,” he murmured, hugging me against him. “Never question my attraction to you.”
“What am I?” I asked, my heart rate kicking up as hardness pressed against my hip. “Something you stole from Diego? A way to hurt both him and my father?”
“You,” he said, nuzzling my neck, “are my wife.”
“You mocked me in the church, and you’re mocking me now.”
“I’m not.” He slid a hand under my hair. “You’re mine. I wouldn’t give you away, Natalia. I’m not my brother.”
My heart missed a beat. The sting was fresh. Diego was both the person I would’ve called for comfort and the reason I was here. Perhaps Cristiano was right—Diego had given me away, along with my trust. But did a betrayal that deep slice right through my love for him? I didn’t think it was that simple—I wanted to strangle him and then fall into his arms, anger and grief warring in me.
But I couldn’t think of it now. When I had Cristiano’s attention, mine needed to be on him. I had to play my cards close to my chest until I knew what Cristiano planned for me. He required all my energy and left me little to worry about Diego.
“At least Diego never held me against my will.”
“You’re not my prisoner. You can leave when you like, but then the deal is off.”
“You gave us your word that if I married you, we’d all be safe.”
“Not only have we not consummated the marriage, but our arrangement was made in bad faith on Diego’s part. I proceeded anyway, but my protection only extends to your family so long as it is mine. As long as you are mine. Leave me, and my obligations go with you. One phone call to the Maldonados is all it would take.”
He wanted me. Even a dead person would be able to feel his need pressing against me. But it was there in his words, too. Mine. His. Diego had made a risky deal with one of the most powerful cartels in the country to transport their narcotics across the Mexico-US border, and he’d failed, costing them millions of dollars. Now, the only thing keeping them from retaliating against my father, his family, and his cartel, was my new husband. Cristiano. A man who had the means, the connections, and now, a reason, to keep the Maldonados at bay.
I tried not to give in to the feeling of Cristiano’s strong fingers working my tendons. “Why?” I asked. “What do you want with me?”
“I want details.” He put his mouth in my hair. “Tell me, Natalia. How was it with him? Where did you do it?”
I tensed. Surely, he didn’t mean my night with Diego? “That’s sacred,” I hissed.
“Nothing you’ve done before me is sacred. As your husband, your secrets are mine.”
“And let me guess—yours aren’t mine,” I said. “How is that fair?”
“I never said that. Ask what you like. I’ll do my best to answer. But not until I’ve gotten my answers. Where did my brother dishonor you? Your bedroom?”
“Dishonor?” I snapped. “That’s the height of hypocrisy coming from you.”
“Dishonor is a gentle word for what he did.” Cristiano curled a hand on top of my thigh. “He lied to both of us. He broke my terms and stole from you in the most malicious way.”
I took a breath, containing a shudder as I tried to keep up. “What do you mean?” I asked. “He lied to you, yes, but—”
“But nothing,” Cristiano said. “You know the truth. When we made the deal, I’ll bet my life you were still a virgin.”
“He wouldn’t . . .” My mind raced. I had trusted Diego all my life—I never would’ve opened up to him that way otherwise. Only two nights ago, he’d climbed up my balcony and into my bed. And this morning’s wedding had not been spontaneous. “When did you make the deal?” I asked.
And I prayed. Any time before Friday night.
“After the warehouse burned,” Cristiano said, “and Diego had no more options.”
I turned my face away as my throat closed. Friday morning. I didn’t want to believe it. Cristiano had more reason to play with my mind than Diego did to hurt me that way. To have traded me for his freedom was hurtful and cowardly, but to have come to my bedroom after having made this deal? Ruthless. Unforgivable.
When I looked back, Cristiano studied me. He’d given me this look in the past, one a student might give a convoluted math problem. He resembled his brother in that moment. Diego had worn the same frustrated expression trying to solve the Maldonado equation once it’d started to go wrong.
What had gone wrong, we’d
find out, was Cristiano. He’d sabotaged Diego’s deal by stealthily stealing, attacking, and burning the Maldonado’s shipments before they’d ever made it near the border. If Diego had manipulated my virginity from me, then he’d broken my trust beyond repair. But that didn’t mean I could believe a word from Cristiano’s mouth, the man who’d orchestrated this entire plot.
“I’ve answered your question,” Cristiano said. “Now answer mine. Where did he take from you? Your bedroom?”
Lights blurred together along with Cristiano’s words. I barely heard what he’d asked. “Yes,” I said absentmindedly.
“Mmm. That lucky piece of shit. I wouldn’t have minded having you there, where you thought you were safest, where you slept and dreamed . . .” His hand slid up the lace covering my outer thigh. “Where you’ve touched yourself.”
Everything sharpened back into focus. “How do you know that?”
“A guess, but I’m not wrong, am I?” I felt his smile against my cheek. “Did he warm you up at least?”
“Stop,” I whispered.
“I will, once you tell me what I want to know. He betrayed you—don’t protect him.”
Protect him? It was my natural instinct. But did I owe Diego that anymore? “I’m protecting myself,” I said. “Why does it matter how it was with him?”
“It humors me to know how he botched your first time, and what I’ll have to do to redeem it.”
“He didn’t botch it. Far from it.” Cristiano’s arrogance fueled my anger. Both men had knocked me back and forth like a tennis ball. Despite my fury with Diego, he was turning out to be the easiest way to get under Cristiano’s skin, and in that moment, I wanted that. I needed to hurt him. “He did warm me up,” I said. “With his mouth. And it felt amazing.”
“Amazing?” Cristiano repeated, sounding amused. “A trip anywhere is amazing until you’ve been to the moon. Then what?”
“We had sex,” I said, and amended, “amazing sex.”
“And you didn’t bleed,” he said.
“No, but I had an orgasm, which I much prefer.”
His grip on my thigh tightened, and he shifted under me. “Did you?” he asked. “Or are you making that up?”
“You told me not to lie to you—that’s the truth. I didn’t even know I could get so wet, and it took practically nothing for—”
“Enough,” he snapped, his lip curled. “Did he use a condom?”
“Yes,” I said. “Or no. I guess we’ll find out in a few weeks. Will you want me then, baby and all?”
He took my chin, turning my face to his. “Watch your step. You’re entering dangerous territory, my love. Condom or no condom?”
I’d never seen Cristiano unravel, and it hadn’t taken as much as one might think. His breath came fast, his eyes dark. I knew without knowing—few saw this side of him and lived. It should’ve scared me. It did. But it was equally electrifying to drive such a powerful man to the edge so quickly and keep him there.
“Tell me honestly,” he said, “and in exchange, I’ll invite your father for dinner tomorrow night.”
Tears instantly filled my eyes. Papá. I would’ve done anything to see him in that moment. “My father?” I asked. “You’ll let me see him?”
“No doubt he has questions.”
“Questions? He’ll be worried sick!”
“Then I’ll bring him here and show him he has nothing to be concerned about.” He flexed his fingers against my thigh. “That you’re in good hands. Unyielding hands. That is, if you tell me what I want to know.”
I swallowed. “We used a condom.”
Cristiano’s expression eased slightly. “Smart girl.”
I hadn’t realized I’d sunken deeper into his lap until the door opened again, and I vaulted forward.
“Ay,” Jazmín said. “Perdón.”
“It’s okay,” Cristiano said, beckoning her while keeping his eyes on me. “But discretion, please, Jaz.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, hurrying to the chair. “The curtains are still closed.”
“Good.” Cristiano took a plate from her, and she disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
“What’re you hungry for?” he asked. It sounded like a threat.
I surveyed the serving plate with fried chicken, rice, beans, plantains, and more. None of it sounded appetizing when my stomach was nothing but nerves for what was ahead.
“Dessert?” He slowly forked off a pale-blue frosted bite of Easter cake and held it up to me.
“You already announced our marriage,” I said. “Why are we hiding behind curtains?”
“Eat,” he said.
Tit for tat. Indulge his questions, and I’d get to see my father. Eat his food, and I’d get my own answers. It was enough to get me to open my mouth and let him feed me a bite.
“It won’t be possible to keep much from Jaz,” he explained. “She’s everywhere. But while you and I get to know each other, I prefer privacy. People are curious about you.” He nuzzled under my ear. “As am I.”
His breath tickled my neck, and I cursed my body as it warmed, threatening to arch into him, my nipples pebbling. It came as no surprise a man so adept at manipulating people’s minds could also do the same to a woman’s body.
He offered another bite, and I leaned in to take it.
“You’re pretty when you eat.” He thumbed frosting from the corner of my mouth and licked his finger. “Not like me. I went through a period where food was hard to come by, and if I didn’t fight to eat, I might not eat at all.”
My heart panged at the thought of anyone going hungry until I realized the cause of his struggles. He’d fled the home he’d known for eight years, ours, because of his involvement in my mother’s death. I didn’t care how many sicarios he brought me—unless we could go back in time, I’d always believe his guilt before his innocence.
“You have plenty to eat now,” I said, pursing my lips. He didn’t deserve all that he had.
“I do.” His voice rumbled as he added, “And I’m voracious, mariposa. I take big bites. I eat like I won’t get another meal. I gulp down the finest wines and unwrap my candy fast, lick and suck until I get to the sweet core,”—he nipped the shell of my ear—“because I’m greedy for the juicy center.”
I shivered, reading his words perfectly. I’d once envisioned Cristiano like an animal fending predators off his spoils. I had no idea what was to come, but I knew I’d be his feast, his candy, the frosting he licked clean. Tremors of dread mingled with a craving to be devoured as Diego had promised but not delivered.
Shame washed over me. What prey harbored even the smallest hope of being caught?
Stupid prey. Senseless prey.
Cristiano would have his way with me and discard the carcass.
“If my brother warmed you up with his mouth,” he said, “I will make it my new life’s mission to set you on fire. Are you ready for our wedding night?”
“Why do you think I wanted the aspirin?” I asked.
He drew back as if I’d slapped him. A second time. “Meaning?”
“You can make me sit on your lap and feed me sweets, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll push me down on a mattress later and take what you want.”
After a moment, he released his hold on me. “I’m not making you do anything,” he said. “Sit where you like.”
It almost felt like a trick, and perhaps it was a mind game. As long as we didn’t consummate the marriage, I’d be on edge knowing he could call things off at any moment. That was, assuming Cristiano was even true to his word. I stayed where I was, deliberating as my weight rested on his large wall of a chest.
Neither of us moved until he said with an edge to his voice, “Go now, mariposa. If I’m not forcing you, then you’re pressed against my cock willingly, and my control slips fast.”
I stood quickly. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but slipping control was enough to scare me off for now.
He pulled a chair so close that it wasn’t a
far cry from sitting on his lap. I took the seat, and he passed my plate over. “I’m not the one who forced you into this marriage,” he said, all the rumble, grit, and sex in his voice gone. “I tried to warn you about Diego.”
I paused with a bite halfway to my mouth. “You manipulated him into a position where he’d have to give me up or lose his life.”
“Is that what he whispered in your ear at the church—that I stole you from him?” Cristiano asked.
What other explanation was there? There was no question that’s what had happened. Diego had given me away, but Cristiano had stolen me as well.
I put the fork down and pushed the cake away. “He didn’t have to whisper anything. I know what I know—neither of you are innocent.”
“And you decide what’s true, do you?” he asked. “You don’t have even a shadow of a doubt that I killed your mother, so it must be true.”
I choked a little, barely managing not to cough. If that wasn’t true, then it would turn Cristiano from a murderer on the run to an innocent man fleeing persecution. I refused to believe that. Cristiano was the last person who deserved my sympathy. “Yes,” I said. “I still think you murdered her.”
“You want to believe it, because you want to believe the worst in me. You’ll excuse Diego anything. Imagine how you’ll feel if none of it is true.”
“I have eyes and ears. You were standing over her with a gun and blood on your clothes, ready to make off with the contents of her safe.” I could admit to myself that I had shreds of doubt as to whether he’d done it. But how would being falsely accused have shaped the man he was today? It still made him a wild card—but one with an axe to grind. And it still didn’t excuse the business he ran now. Emotion bloomed in my chest, and I channeled it into anger. “You’ll put a young girl on the street,” I accused, my voice rising. “That’s the lowest of the low, and it can never be forgiven.”
“I agree,” he said coolly. “But you refuse to listen to my side or to see reason.” His jaw firmed as he nodded at my plate. “Eat your cake, Natalia. Live in that world where Diego is a prince. When you want answers, and you’ve got the guts to face them, let me know.” He stood, took out his phone, and said with finality, “When you’re ready for the truth, I’ll be here.”
Violent Ends (White Monarch Book 2) Page 5
