Shattered Prince

My jaw worked and I nodded. “That’s right. He stole.”

“It is strange. Oscar was a good worker for me for many years. He never stole, not once. But he comes here, and he does this thing. You can see how it is odd?”

“People change. I don’t know what he was like in Mexico, but he lost himself here.”

Alejandro nodded. He looked skeptical, and I doubted he thought that was the full story.

But he spread his hands apart. “I will accept this situation. Oscar stole, and you dealt with it as you saw fit. We can continue our partnership with no problems moving forward if you find that acceptable.”

“I find that acceptable, Alejandro. You didn’t need to travel all the way here for this conversation, though.”

“I also came to speak to my daughter. To make sure she was adjusting to her life here. And to remind her who she is.” His smile was smarmy and dripping with suggestion. I hated it and wanted to slam my fist into his face over and over again.

Jules was right. Her father would never let her go—but I’d take her and force him to give up his control.

“Carmine,” Jules’s voice drifted down the hall. “What are you doing up so early? Why don’t you come back to—” She stepped around the corner and stared at her father, her mouth falling open in shock.

She wore a small black tank top and a pair of black panties.

And her father’s face was bright red.

He stood up. He looked at her then stared at me. I stood slowly, my hands in the air.

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

“What was she about to say?” he asked, his voice thick with rage. “Was she about to tell you to come back to bed?”

“Alejandro—”

He turned to his daughter and shouted at her in Spanish. I caught half the words, but it wasn’t nice—something about her turning into a loose, filthy whore and letting a disgusting American use her like a piece of trash and being ruined now, or something along those lines. He stormed away from me, toward her, and she stumbled back. His fists were raised as if he was going to hit her, and I stumbled after him, jumping over the couch.

“Wait,” I said and he turned on me, his eyes in a wild fury. “You don’t understand.”

“Understand? You’ve been fucking my daughter. I sent her to be protected, and you sleep with her. I was willing to overlook you killing one of my own men, but this? You stupid American piece of trash. You touched my daughter. And now you will suffer for it.” He spit on the floor and shoved past me, storming back to the elevator.

I caught sight of Jules standing in the doorway of my room, half hiding behind the frame. She was gray with shock.

I chased after Alejandro. “Don’t do this,” I said. “I know this looks bad.”

He jammed the call button and the elevator doors opened. “I am going to kill you,” he said quietly as he stepped inside. He turned to look into my eyes. “I am going home to Mexico where I will gather my forces. I am coming for you, Carmine Falsone. And I am going to kill everyone you love for this.”

The doors slid shut.

I stood there, blinking in shock.

This couldn’t be happening.

He wasn’t supposed to see that.

Jules, barely clothed, telling me to come back to bed…

I couldn’t blame him for losing his mind.

If I saw my daughter like that, I would’ve gone nuts too.

But a war? It made no sense. It wouldn’t profit anyone.

And he didn’t understand.

I had to fix this. I had to fix it now.

I ran to the emergency exit. I slammed it open, sprinted down the hall, and reached the stairwell. I threw myself into it and went down the central spiral, slamming into walls, throwing myself around the railing, taking the stairs three at a time. I nearly fell on my face more than once and slipped twice, but I kept going. I had to reach him before he left. I had to explain.

I hit the bottom and burst out the door into the parking garage. I looked around wildly, but saw nothing, Alejandro wasn’t there. Maybe he’d parked out front, or maybe—

A black SUV pulled out.

I sprinted at it. This was a bad idea. I was willing to bet he had armed guards inside that could easily put a bullet in my head. This was basically suicide, but I didn’t care. I ran at the SUV and threw myself onto its hood. Lucky for me, it stopped instead of accelerating, and I rolled off the side and hit the pavement hard.

I grunted and climbed to my feet. My shoulder ached but I walked to the car anyway. The window rolled down and Alejandro pointed a gun in my face.