Violent Triumphs (White Monarch 3)

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. He 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 her name. Diego had been too young to be part of that 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, her chin wobbling 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 pulled out a white envelope.

“If you need another reason to comply, let this be it.” He tore open the envelope 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, and cursed Diego with, “Vete a la chingada.”

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. As if she couldn’t bear to look at me, she hung her head, and began to sob.