Violent Ends (White Monarch 2) - Page 39

Curious, I inched closer to him. He hooked a finger into my waistband and tugged until we were face to face. “Diego,” I warned. If Cristiano caught us like this, we’d both be dead. “I told you not to touch me. I don’t want you to.”

“I know you’re scared of how my brother will react, but don’t lie and tell me you don’t dream about our night together.”

Even before all this had come to light, I hadn’t thought about the sex we’d had much at all—I was too busy trying to survive. And now, thinking of it only made my mouth sour. “I don’t think about it. I can’t.”

“Then maybe I need to refresh your memory,” he said quietly, lowering his mouth to my cheek. “We could steal away into the closet for a kiss.”

His hot breath on my cheek made my heart pound. It wasn’t exciting. It felt calculating, as if he were trying to get something from me. And even if I’d wanted to have a few final moments in fantasyland, the thought of Cristiano bursting in kept me firmly rooted in reality.

“He will cut off your hands,” I said to Diego, trying to take a step back.

“Wait.” He kept his finger hooked in my belt loop. Reaching between us, he slipped his hand into my pocket, where he deposited something small. “You’ll need this so we can stay in touch. A burner phone.”

“Diego, I can’t,” I said, swallowing as my nerves flared. “Cristiano will find it.”

“Then make sure he doesn’t. I’ve disabled the ringer. Delete any text conversations we have immediately. And if he does find it, it won’t reveal anything. It has only one number in it—mine. It’s saved under your dad’s name, though.”

“He’ll never buy that.”

“You’re smart and resourceful. Convince him, Tali. I’ve seen how he looks at you, and you don’t even realize the power you have over him. Over both of us.” He cupped my cheek, thumbing the corner of my mouth. “If he’s about to find the phone, if his hands wander somewhere you don’t want them—redirect them. Use his desire for you against him.”

Diego was woefully naïve when it came to his brother’s prowess. Cristiano could not be misdirected or distracted when he set his mind to something. And if I were going to use my sexuality against anyone, it would be on my terms. Not Diego’s.

“I believe in you,” he said. “I’ll do everything I can on my end to make Cristiano pay for putting you in this position.”

With one hand on my cheek, he slipped the other around my waist and leaned in.

I pulled back, trying to wriggle free. “Stop,” I insisted. It felt strange to deny him when only days ago, I’d have done anything for a few minutes alone with him. “I told you not to touch me.”

“That’s Cristiano talking, not you.” He tilted my chin up, waiting until I met his eyes. “You’re only giving them what they want. First your father, now my brother. They’re determined to keep us apart.”

“Determined?” I heard behind me. My heart leapt into my throat as Diego’s eyes shot over my head. Slow, controlled footsteps echoed through the room. I closed my eyes, knowing what I’d find when I turned around. Knowing how bad this looked, and that I would pay the price, not Diego.

“Determined is not the right word,” Cristiano said. “Try resolved. Hell-bent. Try this—I’ll stop at nothing to keep you two apart.”

Slowly, with deliberate movements, I pushed the phone as deeply into my pocket as it would go. I didn’t even want it, but I couldn’t let Cristiano see it.

I turned around. Everything about Cristiano was buttoned up—not just his suit jacket and perfectly knotted tie, but his tense frame and locked jaw betrayed his discontent.

“We were just talking,” Diego said.

“That’s not the way it looks to me.” He kept his eyes on Diego. “Come here, Natalia. Behind me.”

Leaving Diego’s side would expose him to his brother’s wrath. Good. It was becoming apparent that Diego would use my body as his shield as long as I let him, but Cristiano used himself as mine now—just as he had that morning with Barto.

I went to Cristiano, whose dark, endless eyes bored into mine a moment before he shifted them back to Diego. “And what did you talk about?” Cristiano asked him, dark, sinister amusement lacing his words as he moved in front of me. “The weather?”

Diego smirked. “We spoke of the impossible.”

Cristiano didn’t stop until they were face to face. “I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“I said there was no way you’d pleased her more than me,” Diego said, lengthening his spine. “And she said you had. That she’d never been so satisfied as she was on her wedding night because her groom never touched her.”

“Diego,” I said, covering my mouth. I had shared that in confidence. I was already going to be in trouble—why make it worse for me?

Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance
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