Violent Delights (White Monarch 1)

They were Cristiano’s men.

At Diego’s warehouse.

Which held every last gram of the Maldonado product.

Diego had been right—Cristiano did have something to do with the robberies. And it looked like he was back for more.

Diego had told me to go if I saw anything suspicious, but he had to know I’d never leave him stranded. I had an opportunity to warn him, and I needed to take it.

13

Natalia

The Maldonados wouldn’t hesitate to kill Diego if he lost any more of their shipment. That was why this deal had been haunting Diego’s nights since the first theft. I had no idea how the Calaveras had found the top-secret warehouse, but I knew why they were here—for the drugs.

As soon as the skull-adorned bikers stepped away from Diego’s car, I opened the glovebox to get my cell. I sent Diego a hurried text that some Calaveras were out back. The keys to the Mercedes dug into my palm, but I wouldn’t leave him here.

I stared at my screen, praying for a response. I couldn’t take the chance that these men would ambush Diego and turn the situation with the Maldonados critical. Or worse—hurt him. When a minute had passed without a response, I stuck my phone in the neckline of my dress and sat up. I didn’t see the men anywhere, but I couldn’t see much to begin with.

I could help. I had to. I knew what it was to feel helpless during and after a tragedy, and it was a form of torture, especially paired with grief. Tonight, I could move soundlessly and use the element of surprise to my advantage to hopefully reach Diego before they did.

I fumbled for the fob to make sure I had the right set of keys, then quietly opened the car door. I ducked behind the side panel, listening as my eyes adjusted. The area seemed clear, so I tiptoed toward the back door, where I deftly tried each key until the lock finally gave.

The door opened to a wide, dark hallway with a light at the end of it. I tugged down the hem of my dress and felt my way along one wall, stepping carefully over boxes. I almost rolled my heel on some screws but managed to steady myself against a crate. As I got closer, men’s voices and the clink of what sounded like metal tools carried through the doorway. I listened for yelling, threats, or arguing but heard nothing of the sort.

When I’d reached the end of the hall, I inhaled a deep breath and peeked in. It was a garage with two eighteen-wheeler trucks parked side by side. The one closest to me had its hood popped. Diego worked underneath it, standing on a stepladder with a tool belt around his waist and his sleeves rolled.

I scanned the room for the men I’d seen. I recognized my father’s soldiers as they unloaded cartons from an armed vehicle, but others didn’t look familiar at all. Hadn’t Diego said only their most trusted men were here?

When I returned my eyes to the semi, Diego had his phone out. After reading the screen, he looked toward the doorway, and his eyes widened when he saw me. Wiping his hands on a rag, he nodded for me to get back in the hall. I hid as he said something about the engine to the other men. Moments later, he came around the corner and nearly knocked me over.

He grasped my shoulders. “You okay?” he whispered.

“I saw men in Calavera clothing outside,” I rushed out. “I think they were sneaking in the back door.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re with us.”

I blinked twice as my mouth fell open. “What?”

“This is Cristiano’s warehouse.” Diego took his suit jacket from over his elbow, put it around my shoulders, and moved me farther from the doorway. “We decided to store everything here after our locations were compromised.”

I leaned in and spoke softly. “But what if Cristiano is behind the attacks?”

“It wasn’t my decision, believe me, but we’re in a crunch.” Diego frowned. “I had no other option. I just hope Cristiano has enough of a reason not to sabotage us.”

I eased back. “You mean because he might be planning to take it all over.”

“Right.” Diego glanced over his shoulder. “Jojo says everything’s been quiet. They’re even getting along with Cristiano’s guys. But you still shouldn’t be in here.”

“I don’t want to go back to the car,” I said. “The dark . . . it just takes me back to being down there.”

“I get it.” He pulled the jacket closed and kissed my forehead. “I actually feel safer with you inside. The engine isn’t fixed yet, but I see the problem. Tomás can probably take it from here.”

“I have two hours before I have to be home. I’d feel better if you guys just fixed the problem,” I said. “Because if you can’t get the truck to start . . . then what?”