Violent Delights (White Monarch 1)

I swirled my drink, breathing in caramel and tobacco. “Try not to kill him if you can help it.”

Max’s two-way radio beeped and Alejo’s voice came through. “We’ve got a visitor.”

“Bring him in,” I said.

Max removed his assault rifle from across his body and held it with one hand. “You got it, jefe.”

“Oye. Mirate. Your Spanish is coming along.”

With barely a chuckle, Max went downstairs to meet Diego and his other escorts. I shrugged into my suit jacket and stood at the one-sided glass wall. I wasn’t in the habit of spending so much time at the club, but it’d been easier to conduct business here than drive back and forth from the Badlands. The evening before, I’d been on a call to Turkey when my men had alerted me of Natalia’s presence. I could still see her now, all bronze legs and arms, the ends of her black hair brushing her waist as she’d moved her hips to disco. Her wide, nervous eyes as she’d turned to face me on the dancefloor.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to return home and find Natalia so enchanting—she’d always fascinated me, but not just with her beauty. She tested boundaries, even when fearful. Especially when fearful. She’d manipulated her parents in childish but effective ways. She held unwavering devotion to my brother. Her sheltered childhood had given her a false sense of safety as an adult, but I’d hoped her mother’s death, and our encounter that day, would scare her into obedience. I didn’t know if it was more frustrating or charming that it hadn’t.

She’d still dangled herself as bait in front of me, a man she knew to be dangerous. A man she believed was her mother’s murderer. Every time I tried to scare her, she returned for more. Even hours earlier, when I’d stood at her back in her bedroom and had practically watched her imagination run wild with all the possible things I could to do to her while we were alone, she hadn’t cowered long.

She should cower, though. Testing boundaries got her into trouble. Case in point—she’d stupidly spent last night in the most dangerous place possible.

With Diego. For Diego.

It hadn’t occurred to me they might be there. None of my men had seen her. I gripped my glass at the thought of Diego alone with her all night. It was like the unnerving feeling I’d gotten when I’d come across them in the courtyard at the costume party. Jealousy had warred with my fury. Any other time, I would’ve been delighted to catch Diego in a vulnerable moment, but Bianca Cruz’s dying words had been for me. A plea. And no matter how far I’d run, or how hard I’d worked, I’d never forgotten them. And that tied me to Natalia in ways she didn’t understand.

Maybe Natalia Lourdes was no longer my responsibility, but that instinct to protect her remained. Seeing her again had reawakened an unwelcome fondness for her, but my fascination wasn’t nearly as innocent as it’d once been. But who could blame me?

She had mesmerizing violet eyes that could charm a man to walk into a burning building.

Long legs that could wrap around him for days.

And I hadn’t stopped thinking about that virgin pussy since this morning.

Diego wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with a panocha like that. I knew exactly what I’d do with it, though. And it would start with my tongue buried so deep inside her, I’d be tasting her for weeks.

With a knock at the door, I took a moment to collect myself. This was why I didn’t fuck with sirens like Natalia King Cruz. I was thinking about her when I’d spent years anticipating this final standoff with my brother. Costa had cleared my name, and I was back where I belonged—but I still had one more loose end to tie up. I couldn’t let Diego’s faithlessness in me go unpunished.

And I was going to revel in every moment of what was to come.

I turned from the window. “Pasen.”

Maksim entered first, followed by two of my men as they restrained Diego. Max tossed a semi-automatic pistol next to the bottle of tequila on my desk. “He’s clean.”

“He shouldn’t cause you any trouble.” I said, picking up a second glass from the drink tray to pour a fresh one. “He’s smart enough to know he’s cornered.”

“Your head of security has a glass eye and your bouncer a severe limp,” Diego said. “They’d be lucky to get a shot anywhere near a target.”

“I’d think twice about insulting anyone in this room.” I gestured at a club chair. “Have a seat.”

“I’m not staying,” Diego said. Covered in ash and soot, with cuts along his face and hands, my brother looked as if he’d been up all night fighting for his life. Which, I supposed he had.