Cristiano had ensured the world thought I was nothing to him. Only few people understood, from the beginning, that the opposite was true. Diego had been the first. He had set all this in motion.
He had gone to Belmonte-Ruiz and told them what I was worth.
And how to get me.
My nostalgia vanished as I was reminded how conniving Diego had been all along.
My throat closed as I realized the answer to my question was obvious given what their business had been built on. “They would’ve sold me.”
“No,” Cristiano said. He paced Max’s bedside, massaging his jaw. “That would’ve only started a war between us, and it wouldn’t have benefited Diego at all. He’s always thinking of how to come out on top. If I were in his shoes, my need for control would win over pride.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“If they were able to hold Max just outside my grasp, they could do the same to you. I’d be forced to cooperate to keep you safe.”
“Cooperate . . . how?”
“Our infrastructure when combined with Costa’s shipping solutions spans not only the Americas, but Europe, and parts of Asia, too,” Max explained. “Working with us could grow their business overnight.”
Cristiano nodded and finished Max’s thought. “But after the lengths I’ve gone to just to handicap them, they must’ve known I’d never agree to partner up—not for any amount of money.”
My fingers went cold as I put the pieces together. “They wanted you to traffic people.”
Cristiano dropped his arm to his side. “Diego knows there’s nothing in the world that could get me to do it.”
“Except for the one weakness he’s exploited before,” Max said.
Me. I was the weakness. The little girl he’d been charged with protecting. And then, when he’d come back to town, I’d become a whole other kind of weakness. Cristiano had confessed more than once that he’d done all this for selfish reasons. Because he wanted love. My love. My family. He wanted me.
And he’d been willing to let Diego live in order to have all of it—giving Diego all the ammunition he’d needed. He’d planned to use me as leverage to turn Cristiano’s life into a living hell. To force Cristiano to do the one thing he’d sworn never to do. What he’d built a whole life around preventing. And in the process, Diego would have gotten more control, more wealth, and turned the knife in his brother’s back—all at the same time. And what would’ve become of me?
I would never find out, and for that, I thanked God for keeping the devil safe. And I thanked my devil for protecting me.
When I caught Cristiano staring at me, his face etched with pain, I crossed the room to him and cocooned one of his enormous, mighty hands in both of mine. What would it have done to Cristiano to have to decide between me and the lives of many innocent men, women, and children? I recognized the tormented look in his eyes for what it was. He was beating himself up for not knowing what he would’ve chosen.
I put my mouth against the warm, sinewy back of his hand and swallowed to control the emotion in my voice. “You would never have gone through with it,” I assured him. “You’re too good of a man. You would’ve let me go in order to save them, and it would’ve been the right choice.”
“Too good of a man?” he repeated. “You know what I am. I could never let you go, and that makes me the kind of monster I’ve been fighting against.”
I shook my head and clenched my teeth against a wave of tears. It was too horrible to even think of. Cristiano would’ve done the right thing. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll never have to make that choice.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I turned my cheek against his chest, and he covered the opposite one, holding me there. “Diego got off easy if he’d promised them he’d deliver me,” he said, his voice rumbling against my ear.
“Yes,” Max said. “But if you don’t stop fucking with Belmonte-Ruiz, they’ll always be an enemy.”
“I want to believe the possibility that they’d stop,” Cristiano said. “But why would they? Their entire business is a trafficking ring.”
“They have something going on the narcotic side,” Max said. “All I know is what I picked up here and there, but perhaps the informant Alejo uncovered can find out more.”
“If it’s not trafficking, it doesn’t matter,” Cristiano said. “Let them have their drugs. They can even get into arms and try to steal my territories for all I care. As long as they move on.”
I turned my face into Cristiano’s palm and kissed it, grateful for its comforting warmth, before pulling his hand away. Max had to be exhausted. We needed to let him rest. But first, I had to ask. “You’d accept the truce?”