He’d lavished beautiful clothing upon me, fed me the best food, and surrounded me in comfort. He’d kept his distance, as had his men, warned away from touching Cristiano’s “things.” He was teaching me how to fight them—and him.
He’d liberated women and children, mostly, I realized in that moment, without credit since he’d been underground until a couple weeks ago.
He wasn’t a rapist or an abuser. But he was a murderer.
And I?
I was his one exception.
He leveled his eyes on me as he held the phone to his ear and waited. After a moment, he spoke into the receiver. “Send Scratch upstairs with his equipment.”
My stomach dropped. Equipment?
He shoved the contents of my bag onto the ground and picked up the little black phone. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing,” I rasped through my dry throat.
Cristiano swiped swiftly and expertly before holding up the screen to show me the one saved number. “Padre. You expected me to be so fucking dumb that I’d believe this phone was from Costa?”
“No,” I said.
“You don’t even call him that. You call him Papá. Tell me how you still believe Diego cares for you when he put you in this position.”
“I don’t,” I said, “but even if I did, I take responsibility for my own actions.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “You will.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Cristiano had only been this cold to me in the company of others. His iciness, paired with the mention of equipment, sent a chill down my spine. “I didn’t share information,” I said as panic tightened my chest. “You have my word.”
He resumed looking through the phone. “If there were texts, you’ve deleted them, but one of my tech guys can easily recover them. Tell me honestly, Natalia. What information did you give him?”
“Nothing,” I swore again.
He slipped the phone into his shirt pocket and came around the desk. “If you’re conspiring with him against me—”
“I’m not—”
“Let . . . him . . . come for you,” Cristiano intoned, raising his voice. “I am not him. I won’t let you go so easily.”
“Easily?” I exhaled. “What would you have done in his shoes?”
“For the woman I claimed to love? Built an army to protect her or died by her side. But I wouldn’t give her to another man, especially one I knew to be dangerous. And I won’t let him have you.”
The stark confession, which came so easily to him, shocked me. Did a man like Cristiano even know love? Did I? I’d been the one stupid enough to fall for a phony like Diego. I’d been the one begging him to flee with me, to die with me if it came to that. And he’d refused. Words meant nothing anymore—only action did. Now, I stood before his brother, who was turning out to be the complete opposite of what I’d thought.
Cristiano continued around the desk until he was standing over me. “He’ll have to kill me if he wants you back.”
I tried to hold my shiver at bay, but every inch of me was vibrating with adrenaline, both from Cristiano’s frightening threats . . . and his exhilarating promises. “I imagine he wouldn’t be the first to try.”
He snorted. “Not hardly. Pero todavía estoy aqui. I’m still standing before you, so you can guess what happened to those who failed. As I told you once before—betrayal can only be treated as a life or death matter.”
He was trying his best to scare me, and though it was working, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. I raised my chin. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Don’t you think I should?” He stood in front of me, blocking me from the exit. “If you were a man in my cartel who’d gone to the enemy, what the fuck do you think I would do to him?”
I gripped my neck. El Polvo.
“Exactly,” he said.
“I didn’t betray you. I swear it.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re wrong, naïve girl.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m telling the truth.”
“I know you are. But the phone synced with the Wi-Fi at the house. And that may mean nothing to you, but it means a hell of a lot to me, my security team that works very hard to secure our town, and to Diego—an enemy. And I assume all my enemies enter every situation with the worst of motivations. Especially him.”
My hairline began to sweat. I’d already known this was bad, but it was much worse than I’d thought.
“He could’ve gotten access to sensitive information.” Cristiano’s lips pressed into a bloodless line. “He’d have known your whereabouts anytime the phone was on. He could be standing outside the door right now, ready to ambush us, thanks to his ability to track us here.”
None of this had even occurred to me. I shook my head, at a loss for words. “I didn’t know.”