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  Resolve hardened within her. This is not the life her sister would have. And it wasn’t the life she would have either. They both deserved better.

  “I do,” Isabel said. “I really do. But until then, want to race to the shallow end?”

  Sofia grinned. “Last one there has to do the dishes after dinner!”

  She disappeared under the water. Isabel gave her a couple seconds head start before following, her sister’s words ringing in her ears.

  Yes, Sofia. We will do all those things someday soon. I promise.

  31

  Luca buttoned his cuffs and pulled on his jacket on his way out of his room. His weapon was in its holster against his body. It gave him some comfort as he headed to the dining room for what Diego was calling a “welcome dinner” for the new guards. Luca had no idea what kind of welcome Diego had in mind, but being that he was Diego, he figured he better be prepared for anything.

  He was surprised to find Isabel and Sofia at the table, Marco sitting next to Isabel like the bulldog he was supposed to be. Luca had expected it to be men only, and his senses suddenly became more alert with the knowledge that Isabel and Sofia were in the room. John was there, too, and he and Luca exchanged a perfunctory greeting just before Eduardo stepped into the room on Diego’s heels.

  Luca noted their arrival with interest. He would have to keep an eye on the men, see who gained Diego’s favor. One of them most certainly would. Diego needed someone dedicated to him, someone loyal to only his interests. Preferably someone who would be more than happy to rat out the others if it served his purpose.

  “Hello, hello,” Diego said expansively as he swept into the room. “So nice to have a full house again.”

  Luca had to blink against the surreal nature of it all. The men sitting nervously in their seats, still trying to get a handle on what they’d signed up for. Isabel with an expression Luca recognized, the dispassionate exterior doing its best to hide eyes that screamed for escape. Sofia, looking a little nervous herself in a pretty dress next to Isabel. And of course, Diego at the head of the table, playing the part of benevolent father.

  “Everyone settled in?” he asked.

  The men nodded.

  “My room’s nice,” John said. “You sure you don’t want us to find our own place?”

  “Of course,” Diego said. “We’re going to be family. And family sticks together. Isn’t that right, Isa?” He didn’t look at her as he asked the question, but Isabel nodded nonetheless, playing the role of dutiful sister.

  “That’s right, mi hermano.”

  Diego nodded, not with satisfaction, but with ire, like he’d been hoping Isabel would challenge him so he could put her in her place, show the new men how it was done at Casa Fuentes.

  “Besides,” Diego said, taking a long gulp of his wine, “I like to keep a small security force here at the house, and that means you must be ready for anything at a moment’s notice. There might not be time for the rest of my men to get here if one of our enemies should try to breach the property.”

  Luca fought against the urge to roll his eyes. It’s not that Diego didn’t have enemies. He was one of the country’s biggest drug runners in a country with plenty of men competing for the title. But he wasn’t Vito Corleone. They weren’t in danger of being invaded at any moment by a bunch of Columbians. Luca knew firsthand that organized crime in America was just that — organized. Whether it was with the Syndicate or some other group, there were rules, honor codes. People got killed by their enemies sometimes. But more often than not it was a result of a long-standing feud. A problem that hadn’t been resolved through official channels. He studied Diego as he expanded on the importance of the security job at hand, wondering is this was another one of Diego’s ego-maniacal fantasies or if something was happening behind the scenes to put him at risk of assassination.

  Luca would need to have Elia look into it. If Diego was on the outs with the other cartels, it meant another threat to Isabel, too.

  The cook — a woman named Maria that Luca had only seen twice in his weeks at the Fuentes house — appeared bearing trays of black beans, rice, chicken, and the seasoned Cuban ribs that Luca knew were called costillitas. She was nervous around Diego, and Luca could only imagine what kind of hell he put her through during his drug-induced rages.

  They ate the first course and the entree in relative peace. Diego seemed to settle down, asking the men about their families, their friends. Luca tried not to cringe when they willingly dished out the information. Diego Fuentes wasn’t like other men they might have worked for. Letting him know about your friends and family was a very, very bad idea.

  Still, he couldn’t say anything, so he kept quiet, contributing when necessary and focusing on his food, casting reassuring glances at Isabel, who looked stunning as usual in a white off the shoulder dress that highlighted her beautiful skin, the little dip in her throat that he liked to kiss on his way down to her breasts.

  He shifted as his cock stirred in his pants, then forced his attention back to the conversation. He could sneak into her room tonight, take her on the big canopy bed while the salty wind blew in through the open balcony doors. But having a visible hard on at dinner was a bad idea, so he would have to shelve the thoughts of her naked body until they were alone.

  They were halfway through dinner when Diego’s phone rang inside his jacket. He looked at the display, then put the phone to his ear. After a terse greeting, he began speaking in rapid Spanish. Luca tried to follow along while maintaining a look of what he could only hope was boredom.

  “Díganle no,” Diego said. “Eso no era el trato.”

  Tell him no. That wasn’t the deal.

  Luca listened, wondering what was so important that Diego felt compelled to take the call at dinner. As if in answer, he pushed back from the table hard enough to topple his chair, then wandered into the hallway, the phone still at his ear.

  Isabel stood, silently putting the chair back into place before returning to her seat. The others drank more wine, shifted uncomfortably in their seats, tried not to exchange nervous glances. All except for Isabel, who continued eating, slowly and methodically, like the order of it would somehow keep everything in check.

  “Me importa una mierda. Las reglas fueron puestas durante nuestra negociación original.”

  I don’t give a fuck. The rules were set during our original negotiation.

  Diego was agitated now. Luca could see it in the way he paced the floor in front of the dining room, could hear it in his voice, a kind of hissed whisper that hinted at barely controlled rage.

  “Dile a Sánchez que le recortaré su lengua y se lo alimentaré a sus hijas para la Comida de Navidad si él sigue jodiendo conmigo,” Diego roared. “Esi es. Esta terminado.”

  Tell Sanchez I will cut out his tongue and feed it to his daughters for Christmas dinner if he keeps fucking with me. That’s it. It’s finished.

  The mention of Sanchez was a surprise, and Luca was careful not to look at Marco. Was Diego on the outs with Lorenzo Sanchez? And if so, could Luca somehow use the rift to get Isabel and Sofia to safety? He filed away the information as Diego re-entered the room, straightening his jacket before sitting back in his seat with a tired sigh. He lifted his wine glass.

  “To business.” He cut a glance at Isabel. “And pleasure. May the two be forever intertwined.”

  Luca had to force himself not to pull out his weapon and shoot the smug look off Diego’s face. He was baiting Isabel, humiliating her, reminding her that he was in charge of her darkest, dirtiest secret.

  He forced himself to breathe. To think of Isabel and Sofia, who didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of a pissing contest between him and Diego.

  Diego would get his eventually, Luca promised himself. One way or another, he would pay.

  The cook had cleared away the plates and set down a tray of fried plantains and fresh fruit when Diego passed around a bottle of dessert wine. Luca poured some into his glass but refrained fr
om drinking. He hadn’t had anything more than a beer since the night Diego had shown the video of Isabel’s assault. Protecting her in the Fuentes house meant being alert 24/7, and that’s what Luca intended to do.

  Diego was under no such embargo. He’d become overly exaggerated in his gestures, his voice a little louder as he downed two glasses of the dessert wine. Luca recognized the symptoms of someone used to holding their alcohol who was drunk nonetheless. It made him wary, and he watched as Diego downed another glass of the amber liquid.

  Isabel stood. “I think I’ll take Sofia up to bed. It’s a school night.”

  “Sit,” Diego ordered. “You leave when I say you leave.”

  Isabel hesitated, like she was considering arguing, then sat down with a reassuring smile at Sofia.

  Diego stood and walked to the cabinet at the side of the room, pulled out a bag of coke. Then he came back to the table and tapped some onto a clean dessert plate, pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet, and did two quick lines before passing the plate to Eduardo.

  “Diego, Esto no es apropiado para Sofía,” Isabel said.

  This isn’t appropriate for Sofia.

  What happened next happened so fast it was over before Luca could get out of his chair. One minute Diego was sitting in his chair, head tipped back as the cocaine high hit his brain, and the next minute he was leaning toward Isabel, who had a steak knife stuck into the table between her splayed fingers.

  Luca was across the room in under five seconds, Diego pressed against the wall, his windpipe secure in Luca's fist.

  “You’re dead, carnal,” Diego choked. “Dead.”

  Luca squeezed harder.

  “I’m going to have them cut off your cock and shove it up your ass. Or maybe I’ll have them shove it up Isabel’s ass before I have them take her out to the Glades.”

  Luca squeezed, his mind blank with fury. Diego’s face was turning purple, his hands grasping at Luca’s fingers around his neck. Luca was dimly aware of movement behind him, but it wasn’t the kind of movement that worried him. It wasn’t “we’re coming to get you” movement.

  More like “what the fuck is going on” movement.

  So he kept squeezing.

  “Luca, stop!” Isabel said. “It’s okay.”

  “Not… okay,” Luca said as he squeezed.

  Then he felt her hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t what I want.”

  Luca slowly released his hold on Diego’s neck, disappointment coursing through him. He’d been close to ending it. To freeing Isabel from her brother’s tyranny. Now he knew how Nico had felt that day in London, making the choice between risking Angel’s life and killing her father.

  He’d killed her father, and now Luca knew that he, too, would do anything for the woman he loved.

  Diego slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. “You’re… dead… dead…”

  Luca bent down, put his face close to Diego’s so only Diego could hear him. “If you touch me, you’re going to be visited by a shit storm the likes of which you’ve never seen. You think you’re scary? You don’t scare me. The only reason I haven’t finished you is because your sister doesn’t want me to. But that’s not a free pass that’s going to last forever, carnal. So maybe it’s time you watched your back. And don’t you fucking threaten me. I could end you with one hand, and I have powerful friends in powerful places who are going to come after you hard if I disappear. So you better make fucking sure you know what you’re doing before you make your move.” He stood and straightened his jacket, then turned to Isabel. “You’re right. It’s a school night. Why don’t you take Sofia up to bed.”

  “Come on, nina.”

  He heard Isabel’s voice behind him but didn’t take his eyes off Diego. When the sound of their footsteps receded into the hall, he backed away from Diego. Then he turned to the others.

  “I’m not your boss. This piece of shit wants you to think I am, but that’s just his way of playing a little mind fuck. We all know who’s really in charge. I’m just here to save those two girls from being abused and tormented by this piece of shit.” He met each of their eyes, making a point to meet Marco’s, too. Things had gotten out of hand. They were beyond the game of pretending that he was still in Diego’s employ. That he would still follow Diego’s orders. The most he could hope for was to live long enough to get Isabel out, and that Marco might get a heads up on anything that might be going down. “You do what you have to do. I understand. But you should know that if you take part in hurting either of those girls — or if something should happen to me while I’m here — every single one of you will pay with your lives. Might be time to think about whether the job is worth it.”

  He bent down so that his face was close to Diego’s once more. “And let’s get one thing straight; I don’t work for you. I’m here for Isabel, and you’re going to let me stay here because if you don’t, you’re even more fucked than you are now. Comprende?”

  He walked from the room, intentionally leaving his back exposed to Diego. The asshole could shoot him if he wanted, but Luca didn’t think he would. He had a feeling Diego already had one too many enemies.

  32

  “That was not cool,” Marco said to Luca.

  Luca dropped his head into his hands. “I know.”

  It was just before noon on a Wednesday, and they were at a seedy little bar a few miles inland. Isabel had been nervous when she and Marco had pulled up to it, but he’d assured her Luca would be waiting, and he’d emerged from the LeFerrari as soon as Marco’s car pulled into the lot.

  “I seriously thought that guy was going to put a bullet in your fucking head,” Marco said. He nodded at Isabel. “Sorry for the language.”

  “It’s the least of my problems,” Isabel said, tossing back a tequila shot.

  Luca almost smiled. It was a throwback to another time. A time with the Vitale family when abuse against women could see you at the bottom of the river with a concrete block tied to your foot, and when swearing would get you a shoulder squeeze from Nico hard enough to make your eyes water. Luca didn’t know what this was, this… shit show he’d landed in with Diego Fuentes.

  An animal. A barbarian. A monster.

  “What’s the word from the other men after what went down?” Luca asked.

  “Eduardo was a little high strung. Talking about loyalty and brotherhood, all that bullshit that people like Fuentes don’t know anything about.” He turned to Isabel. “Sorry.”

  Isabel laughed. “If you apologize every time you swear or insult my brother, we’ll never be able to have an uninterrupted conversation.”

  “Good point,” Marco said.

  “What about the other one?” Luca asked. “John. Was he Syndicate?”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Marco said. “I’ll put Elia on it.”

  “Even if he was Syndicate, it doesn’t mean he’s made us. I think he might be Irish, so it’s possible he was working for Thomas O’Doyle until everything went bad,” Luca said.

  “Maybe,” Marco said, tapping the bar with his giant fingers. “But I’d still rather know what we’re dealing with. The big question is what we do next. Because after that fucked up dinner last night, I’m thinking we better come up with a solution sooner rather than later.”

  Luca nodded his agreement. “We need to find the video of Isabel. Once we have it, we can get her out of the house with Sofia.”

  “What about copies?” Marco asked.

  “If they’re on his computer, I can wipe them all at the same time,” Luca said. “Otherwise, we have to hope he doesn’t have it on some cloud somewhere, or on an external hard drive. It’s the best we can do.”

  He hated that it was true. Isabel deserved a clean slate, a guarantee that she would be able to start a new life without the specter of the video hanging over her head. But this was all he could offer her — a chance. A chance and his love, because he knew now that he loved her utterly and completely. He had known it the minute he’d seen the kn
ife between her lovely fingers at dinner. In that moment, nothing had mattered but keeping her safe and making sure that for the rest of her life, she was treated with the respect she deserved.

  “That really sucks,” Marco said, downing one of the shots lined up in front of him. He looked at Isabel. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this.”

  Luca hid his surprise. Marco wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type.

  “It’s okay,” Isabel said softly. “I can’t be scared forever. At some point I just have to do what I can, hope for the best, and get out. Get Sofia out.”

  Marco nodded. “So how does this go down in the study?”

  “I should do it,” Isabel said. “I know it better than - ”

  “No way,” Luca said. “I’m not giving that asshole one more reason to hurt you.”

  “But I’ll be faster,” she said. “I know all the drawers and cabinets. Plus I think I know where he keeps the keys to his desk.”

  “Great,” Luca said through clenched teeth. “Then you can give me or Marco the key, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “You’re not being reasonable.” Her eyes flashed, and he remembered the girl on the beach, the one who’d jumped from the top of the hotel. Here she was again, full of fire and ready to fight. “If you get caught, what will you say? What excuse can you possibly have for being in his office?”

  “I’ll think of something,” Luca said tightly.

  “What would you say?” Marco asked her.

  “I’ll say I’m looking for my father’s rosary. Or his pipe with the cherry smoke because I miss him. Or the old sweater he left in the desk drawer that he wore around the house.” She sighed. “The point is, there are hundreds of reasons I might be in the study.”

  “But will he believe you if you’re caught?” Luca asked. “That’s the question.”