“No!”
“Scared little boys have no place in my kingdom.” And then he pulls the trigger, emptying every bullet inside the body of Jadiel while his now widow covers her eyes and cries. The sound of the gun dropping on the ground is loud, and every person standing in attendance makes the sign of the cross before guards remove the bodies and another group assists in bringing in a large hose to clean off any remains of the two. They don’t start until we leave, and I know why my husband is pausing and raising a brow at me.
Her life is my call. He’s trusting me to do what is right.
“Leave, and don’t come back.” His nod of approval isn’t needed, but I love knowing that he agrees and respects my decision. “Not to Miami. Not to Cuba.” Belinda stops breathing for a few seconds. She’s looking at me now with a mixture of relief and deep sorrow. My mercy isn’t because of her abused past, because while her now-dead husband hurt her, she planned on helping someone else eliminate mine, and that still stings. No, my leniency is because my conscience will be clear if she steps a single foot out of line. Because I will be the one to end her life. “You are not welcome where we are, and if you ever, ever cross my path again, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes. Understood?”
“Si.”
“Then run, and don’t look back. Find your way home, Belinda.” Taking a few steps back, I give the signal to the guard with the hose to escort her out first. “Don’t make me regret this decision.”
“Thank you. I swear I’ll—”
“You have five minutes to get off this compound.” She runs off then and does as I ask, leaving with an amused guard showing her the way. These three have caused enough issues, and I’m over it. I need us to relax and celebrate. To let loose without anything or any pressing matters to attend to for a few days. “Now, who’s hungry because I could use a margarita and a grilled chicken platter. The scent of food has been driving me crazy since we exited the plane.”
The family laughs while Maritza walks over and gives us a kiss. And then she winks because the woman has one thing on the mind...grandchildren. “So, you think this time I’ll get a bebe or beba?
“Maybe.”
“Yeah?”
“Who knows. At least I stopped taking my contraceptives.” Her squeal at my words is loud and the men all raise a brow, but it’s Thiago’s smirk that I focus on. It’s his swagger as he walks over and steals me away, telling them all to head inside, that makes me shiver.
I want him...
Now. Tomorrow. Always.
“You told her, didn’t you?”
“That might be a possibility,” I croon, rising onto the tips of my toes so I can nip his chin—something he likes if the small groan that escapes is anything to go by. Not that we care who hears us.
There are bodies being removed. There are people standing by ready to wash the evidence away.
But instead of moving, we stare into each other’s eyes and smile. I enjoy this stolen moment while wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my level and kissing him with everything that I am. With every bit of the strong woman I’ve become by his side.
He is my heaven. My best friend.
And while our lives aren’t normal and death follows us, I wouldn’t change him for anything in this world.
1
MEET ME AT the office. ~Muñeca
She has the worst manners, and I absolutely adore that about her. That inability to ask me nicely—unless it’s my cock she wants. Then, she begs like the pretty little doll she is.
Because behind my woman’s hard facade is a wanton little slut that comes out for me. Only me.
But then again, she knows I’ll indulge her. That I love her just how she is:
Bossy.
Ballsy.
Beautiful.
I don’t reply to her demand right away. Instead, I make a right at the end of Malcolm’s drive and leisurely ride the brakes through the private suburbs where his house is the only one for an entire block. His is also the biggest, and I let out a low chuckle at the face his neighbor makes when my large pickup truck drives past his modest mansion.
But then again, it’s what you come to expect from those who work at the top of other financial firms. The Ashers are a particular bunch—manipulative geniuses—and like to keep other executives/CEO’s close enough to strangle if they so choose. It’s why my family and theirs have melded seamlessly in a way.
They approve of Mariah and love her more than they do me.
Especially Lourdes. That little shit has become my Muñeca’s right hand in some matters.
Like now. Her name flashes across my dashboard, but I don’t answer.
I’ll ignore everyone in her arsenal until the jefa herself calls or sends me the appropriate text.
I make another turn, and I’m heading toward the expressway that leads to the Asher building. Not that she knows this; the tracking device she put in my car last week—the twenty-fifth since we met—is at the
