Violent Ends (White Monarch 2) - Page 4

No. The idea of serving multiple men made me want to run more than anything had up until now. And the suggestion that I’d enjoy it? Equally obscene and horrifying.

“I’m going to let go of you now. If I don’t, I’ll take you in God’s house, and I may not be able to stop until dawn breaks.”

He released me, leaving me breathless and confused. My legs shook as I stooped to gather my pile of things.

“Leave it all,” he said. “My men will discard it.”

I picked up the precious ivory lace of my abandoned wedding dress, running my bare fingernail over the long rip. “I want to bring it.”

“You won’t need it where we’re going. Max already put your bags in the car.”

“It was my mother’s,” I said quietly.

I looked up at him as I had eleven years earlier when he’d stood over her as she’d bled out. Over me. With blood on his pants and a gun in his hand. I remembered him as the most vicious yet protective man in my world.

His power and strength had only multiplied since then.

Pressing his lips into a line, he crouched and took the fabric from my hands. After gathering it and my bra into his arms, he stood. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Home.”

2

Natalia

Despite gray skies, there was no shortage of people in the plaza on Easter day. The scent of fried plantain filled the air as locals danced and filled their bellies with horchata and empanadas, and kids begged for candies, balloons, and toys from vendors.

It seemed as if the only person missing from the festivities was Diego.

A pair of black Land Rovers with tinted windows idled at the curb in front of the church. Cristiano led me to the second one, handed off my things to the driver, and opened the door to the backseat.

Getting in meant surrendering myself to Cristiano. Once inside, I was as good as lost to the world. My cell phone was in the bag I’d brought to the church and had been taken somewhere. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I’d be getting it back any time soon, if at all. I squinted around the square. “Barto’s supposed to pick me up any moment. He thinks he’s taking me to the airport for my father.”

“Then you’d better get in so he and I don’t have a confrontation,” Cristiano said. “Quit stalling.”

I crouched to unbuckle the strap of one shoe. “My feet ache,” I explained, furtively scanning the steps of the church and then the crowds for Diego. Laying eyes on him one last time wouldn’t change my situation, but it didn’t feel right to just leave.

“He’s gone if he knows what’s good for him,” Cristiano said, calling my eyes up as he looked down on me.

Just like that, my entire life had been flipped on its side. Diego was nowhere to be seen, and his brother filled my vision and called me wife.

“Forget the shoes,” Cristiano said, “and get in the car—and don’t mention his name again, or so help me God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” I asked, standing. “Separate me from my loved ones and condemn me to a life I never wanted?”

He narrowed his eyes. What could he say? It was true. My fate was sealed.

I ducked inside before Cristiano could respond. He removed his jacket as he went to the first SUV and spoke to the driver. I fixed my gaze out my window, memorizing the town square. Until I saw Diego again, my last memory would be the defeat in his stance as Cristiano had ordered everyone but me from the church.

My heart sank. Diego had given me away. He’d had no choice—Cristiano had decided he’d wanted to unite our families, and his cartel with my father’s, so he’d made it happen. Nothing could’ve stopped him.

But still. The person I loved, the man I’d been willing to betray my father to marry, had let me walk down the aisle to someone else. And not just anyone. His cruel, notoriously violent brother.

Was he sorry? How long had he known about this?

My chin wobbled, but I stilled it in an attempt to pull myself together. Fuck Diego for putting me in this position—and fuck me for still trying to catch once last glimpse of him.

Cristiano tossed his suit jacket onto the seat next to me and slid behind the driver. “Why do you care where my brother is?” he asked, raising a partition between the front and back seats.

I turned from the window to Cristiano. “He was going to be my husband.”

“Diego gave you up to save his own ass. He’s not worth your time.” Cristiano studied me as we pulled away from the curb. “You should be thanking me for stepping in.”

Thank him? My blood simmered. My wellbeing was his justification for trapping me. Between our union and Cristiano’s human trafficking business, I doubted there wasn’t anything he couldn’t rationalize. “You left him no other choice.”

Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance
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