Violent Delights (White Monarch 1)

“When he marries me,” I said quietly, “he’ll have only one use for me, if even that. I won’t be able to escape him.”

“That’s enough,” Cristiano said from the altar. I refused to turn and look at him. “Come to me now, Natalia, or I’m taking the deal off the table.”

“Life or death, Diego,” I begged. “I’m yours in either. Where you go, I will follow.”

“And they will hunt us like dogs.”

I swallowed through a painful lump in my throat. They would find us, but at least we’d be together. At least I wouldn’t be left at the mercy of Cristiano. He’d restrained himself around me so far, and hadn’t given me much reason to believe he’d hurt me—but I had no idea how he’d act once he thought he owned me like one of the women he kept behind Badlands’ gates. Except I would belong to the master himself. “Then we’ll face the Maldonados together,” I said.

“And Costa?” Diego asked.

My heart stopped. Papá. They would come for all of us. Me, Diego, my father. Tepic, Jojo, Pilar. My father’s family. Maybe even my mother’s, who were the only ones wise enough to stay far away from this life. And it would touch them anyway. Unless I did this.

I would do this for Diego, but I had to do it for the man who’d given me life, who’d loved and protected me always. If I didn’t, maybe I would find my father dead on the cold tile floor before they killed me too. Or took me. Was I better off enslaved to them or Cristiano? I hated that the answer was obvious.

My nose tingled, and I shut my eyes as resignation set in.

“The Cruz cartel will cease to exist,” Diego said. “They’ll execute those at the top to warn others, keep the ones they have use for, and discard the rest.”

My core seemed to have frozen. I wrapped my arms around myself as the cold hit, inciting a shiver deep inside me. “You can’t put their lives on me,” I said. “Maybe I can save them, but you did this. Father did this. Cristiano did this. I’m innocent.”

“Be that as it may,” Cristiano said from behind me, “I’ve named my price. Turn around, Natalia.”

No. No. I wouldn’t. I grabbed the lapels of Diego’s suit and pulled him close. “Please,” I implored one final time. “Find a better way. Don’t ask this of me.”

Defeat. That was what I’d seen in the slump of his shoulders earlier. I could name it now because he drew up, lengthening his spine. His resignation morphed into resolution. “Okay,” he said. He hesitated, then slowly enveloped me in a strong hug. He looked over my head to Cristiano. “I’m sorry. She won’t do it.”

I waited for relief, but it didn’t come. In the following silence, my insides tangled. Cristiano’s menacing presence pervaded the church. With the reality of what I’d just done, my head filled with visions of what came next. A massacre. Bloodshed. News stories that would never be reported. Deaths that would stand for nothing and happen in vain.

“I never truly thought she’d go through with it,” Cristiano said finally. “You’ve asked too much of her.”

Bastard. My teeth mashed together. Weak? Perhaps he didn’t know true love because he wasn’t capable of it. He was wrong. Life or death. I repeated it to myself, trying to bring my courage up to meet my indignation. Life or death.

“Put Natalia on her plane out of the country,” Cristiano continued. “Once Ángel Maldonado finds out, it’s out of my hands. I can’t protect even her, though I will try.”

Diego’s heart pounded against my cheek. “It’s all right,” he murmured in my ear. “I understand.”

“My offer is off the table,” Cristiano announced. “Max, pull the car around.”

I pressed my face into Diego’s chest as he smoothed my hair away and shushed my cries. I didn’t want to leave this spot, but I heard the resolve in Cristiano’s voice. In his footsteps down the aisle. These could be my last moments with Diego, and if I survived, I’d have to live with knowing I hadn’t saved him. I would rather die by Diego’s side than marry my enemy, but even death did not seem to be an option for me. Only for Diego. And I knew in my heart that Cristiano was wrong. My love for Diego was strong enough. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to save him.

Clutching the rosary, I lifted my head and asked in a watery whisper, “You’ll come for me?”

He spoke into my hair, only for me. “As soon as I can. I just need time, and this is the only way to buy it.”

What awaited me when I turned and faced Cristiano? What unspeakable things did he have planned once I left with him? At least with the Maldonados, there was a chance they’d kill me quickly. Cristiano and his bucket of sand wouldn’t rush his torture.