Violent Triumphs (White Monarch 3)

I wanted to say good-bye to Pilar. To see Alejandro’s smile light up a room once more. To kiss Barto’s cheek and thank him for his service to my family. To assure Gabriel he had the world at his fingertips. But it would be selfish. There was no more time. They needed to leave.

I left my father at the front of the ship and made my way back toward where Cristiano waited on the loading dock. He wore no expression as his dark eyes followed me, but I could read his torment. Maybe he doubted himself, but as painful as this would be—it was the right decision.

He’d made me a queen when others would’ve had me stay a princess forever. To have the choice to go and live or stay and die meant more to me than he knew. I would remain by my king’s side. Now. Always.

Cristiano helped me off the ship. As it prepared to leave, worry crept in, tensing my shoulders.

With a strong arm around me, Cristiano pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head. “They’re prepared,” he whispered. “They’ll be safe, Natalia.”

“And everyone else?” I sniffled, slipping my arms around his middle to hug him back. “Teresa and Felix? Jaz, Paula, the Zamora family—”

“They’re on to new lives. They’ll be okay.” The contentment in Cristiano’s voice comforted me until he loosened his embrace and looked down. “I have to say this one last time, Natalia. It’s not too late. I can call them back. You can still go with them.”

I shook my head hard. I was determined, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.

He smoothed a hand over my hair and down my back. “This is it. Everyone you love and care about is on that ship.”

My dear, thick-skulled husband with anguished eyes. I reached up to run my palm along the stubble of his cheek. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved since the parade. His scratchiness was comforting in a way. It was real. “There is no possible scenario in which I leave your side. My place is here. With you.”

With my husband was where I stayed. Silence fell over us as we stood on our beach for the last time and watched our friends and family go. As we said our final farewell to everyone we cared about, and to this world.

32

Cristiano

In a black lace dress, Natalia turned in a circle in our closet. The same one I’d put her in at the church on our wedding day. She lifted the skirt and showed me her sneakers with Kevlar laces.

“In case you need to run in the afterlife?” I asked at the mirror where I fixed the cuff of my dress shirt.

I was perhaps overdressed for death as well—but we weren’t going to go down in anything less than the best.

“In case I need to fight,” she said, holding up la Monarca Blanca.

“That’s my girl.” I winked and bent my head. “Un beso.”

She obliged me with a quick kiss.

A hum sounded above our heads, and Natalia looked up. “Helicopters?”

As I nodded a bang echoed through the valley of the Badlands, rumbling like thunder.

“What’s that sound?” she asked.

I turned back to the mirror, tightening the knot of my black tie. “Tanks ramming the front gates,” I said.

“You know people call them las puertas del infierno?” she said.

Of course I did. The gates of hell. “For Belmonte-Ruiz, it will be true.”

She left the closet and headed for the balcony.

“It’s not safe out there in the open,” I called.

“I just want one last look.”

My mistake. If I wanted her to stay indoors, I should’ve told her to do the opposite.

I stepped out with her and checked the sky to make sure we were alone. When I determined it was safe enough for now, I joined her at the short wall overlooking the water.

In my bespoke suit, Natalia in her black lace evening gown, our hands locked between us, we took in the endless ocean. For those moments, it was calm, but it wouldn’t last.

“We’d better get downstairs,” she finally said. “Our time is up.”

The calm in her voice mildly surprised me. I hoped that was due to her faith in me and the choices we’d made.

I turned, scooped her into my arms, and tipped her back to kiss her with everything I had. We had time for that, at least. There would always be time for that.

* * *

I took my wife down into the bowels of the mountain, through the tunnel that connected the house to the control center humming with the data, communication, and files we’d been collecting for years to protect others. Intelligence Belmonte-Ruiz would love to get their hands on for the opposite purpose. The precise reasons we hadn’t made it explosion-proof.

We crossed that room, making our way through a maze of hallways, passed two iron-clad security systems where only one fingerprint—mine—would work. Because under any other circumstance, I would’ve burned, mutilated, or carved off my own flesh to prevent the wrong person from entering this space.