Violent Triumphs (White Monarch 3)

I released a shaky breath. What once had been a threat was now a delicious promise. Tenderness wouldn’t do. Not our first time. And he knew it, biding his time until then, teasing me with his words.

Cristiano didn’t wait for my response. As his fingers slipped up my inner thigh, he turned to Alejandro, who was buttering a slice of bread. “How did Manu react?”

Alejo set down his knife. “As you’d expect.” He took a bite, chewing as he added, “But I handled it.”

“He tried to stand up to Alejandro, but instead, he got knocked on his ass,” Pilar said. “It was fun to watch.”

I laughed at her uncharacteristically wicked grin, glad to see she was loosening up. After all, who better to take down her greatest threat than the most threatening men she knew? “Alejandro’s a good fighter,” I said.

“Is he?” Cristiano asked as he slid his hand down my thigh and squeezed my knee in the exact spot that tickled.

I gasped, grabbing his wrist and trying not to laugh. “But Cristiano is better,” I added quickly, and his hold on me released.

“Ah, thank you for saying so, mi amor.” Cristiano winked and turned back to Alejandro. “I assume you did more than knock him down.”

Alejo dipped his head marginally. “Not in front of the lady.”

“And your parents?” Cristiano asked Pilar.

She nodded. “I said just what Alejandro wanted me to.”

My focus faltered with Cristiano’s hand still resting on my leg. My mind had begun to register that when it came to sex, Cristiano would always wait for some kind of cue to proceed. With the promise of his fingers so close, my stomach somersaulted.

“What?” I asked, sounding as dazed as I felt. “What did Alejo tell you to say?”

“Alejandro gave me instructions,” Pilar offered.

“They came from Cristiano,” Alejo said.

Tasha looked back and forth, as if watching a tennis match, and not a very exciting one. Every now and then, she sighed at her plate.

“I told Manu and my parents I wasn’t going through with the marriage,” Pilar said, “and that I was coming here to work. For Cristiano. Against my will.”

Against her will. The lie was for the best. Being here with me was better than the future with Manu she’d been unable to avoid on her own. And it perpetuated the myths surrounding Cristiano and the Badlands. I understood why Cristiano wanted that—but how did he feel that so many people thought he was the same kind of evil he fought against?

Was he able to employ logic to remove his emotion from the situation?

Or did it cut deeply, and he’d gotten good at hiding it?

“I confirmed your marriage was a sham,” Pilar continued, glancing from me to Cristiano and back, “and that Cristiano had only done it to forge the alliance with Costa, but that both Natalia and I were unharmed.”

Two servers entered and placed steak and baked potatoes in front of us.

“Thank you—for letting me stay,” Pilar added, and I could see her trying to be gracious to a man she’d feared for so long. “But my family never let me do anything. Just work in their shop and try to find a husband. I’d like to pull my weight, maybe help around the house, or—”

“We can get you your own place if you like,” Cristiano said. “Help you start a business—whatever you want.”

“What do you want?” I asked her.

She sat back. “No sé. I . . . I’m not sure.”

That didn’t surprise me. I doubted neither her parents nor Manu had ever asked. “You can start over here.”

“Can I change my name?” she rushed out.

The four of us just looked at her. It was both a small and enormous request.

One dinner, and Pilar was coming out of her shell. Perhaps she’d believed what I’d been trying to tell her about Cristiano. Or maybe it was Alejandro’s presence that comforted her. I was pretty sure they’d been spending some time together—another reason, I suspected, I hadn’t seen much of her.

“Well . . . of course,” Cristiano answered. “Countless people within these walls have changed their identities.”

“Esmeralda,” Alejandro said, suddenly laser-focused on cutting his steak. “It’s, ah, a good name.”

“Yes.” I picked up his line of thinking. “For her emerald eyes.”

Pilar smiled to herself. “Esmeralda. It’s pretty.”

“It suits you,” I said.

“This is very touching,” Tasha said, “pero, por Dios, is it boring. I don’t understand why none of you are discussing what really matters.” Her teeth scraped her fork as she took a bite, chewed, and swallowed within seconds. “Almost two weeks have passed, and Max is still missing. You haven’t struck back, and it makes you look weak.”

“Don’t mistake strategy for weakness,” I said.

“You’ve run out of time for strategy. It’s time for action,” she said, looking from me to Cristiano. “A true crime lord would never let this happen.”