1
Natalia
The devil had a name—Cristiano de la Rosa—but from this day forward, I would call him husband.
The cozy church where I’d spent Sunday mornings over a prayer book with my parents stood still and quiet except for the echo of broken promises and ripped lace. Mid-day, sunlight flooded the pews around us, but only candlelight touched the darkened aisle.
In a sharp, tailored suit, my new husband stood before me, waiting for me to finish stripping off my wedding gown so he could thoroughly claim ownership before we’d even left the church.
Cristiano had forced my hand in marriage, and the man I’d envisioned spending my life with had agreed to it. Had tricked me into it.
“My new bride is shy.” Cristiano smiled tightly, finding pleasure in the designation, likely just because he’d imposed it on me. “But I only required my brother meet two terms to validate this arrangement, and you’ve already broken one.”
Cristiano had expected me to come to him a virgin, but Diego hadn’t delivered me that way. The implication was clear—would I break the second term, too? I couldn’t. Cristiano had already invited me to walk away from all of this, but there would be a price for that, and the people I loved would pay it.
Consummate the marriage, or the Maldonado cartel would obliterate all of us.
“I’d hoped our first time might be different,” I said, grasping for a way to change an inevitable outcome. He’d asked me to marry him when he could’ve dragged me down the aisle. He’d respected the ceremony, lassoing us in a show for our few onlookers. If there was a shred of humanity within him, I had to try to tap into it.
“As had I.” He tilted his head, his eyes scanning my front, as if I was a puzzle to be solved. “But you chose to give your virginity to another. I was prepared to take you to bed and handle you gently, but it seems I no longer have a need for that.” He stepped toward me, six-foot-five inches of suited muscle and dark beauty with a clean, masculine scent. “You have been thoroughly broken in . . . haven’t you?”
I shivered as I slipped one arm through the wedding dress, mourning the beautiful, ruined lace my mother had worn to wed my father. “No,” I whispered.
One thick eyebrow arched. “I’m sorry?”
“I haven’t,” I insisted. “Diego and I did it once. He was gentle. I’m not . . .”
“Broken?” he suggested. “Like a wild horse.”
I turned away from his penetrating gaze as his black eyes danced. To sully the wedding altar, to slap God in the face, to force Diego to endure my ruination from the other side of the door—it was what I’d sold Cristiano in exchange for our lives. Not just mine, but my father’s, Diego’s, and anyone else close to the Cruz cartel. Men who’d protected my family, who’d raised families under my father, and who’d helped raise me after my mother’s death.
I drew my other arm through its sleeve and pushed my dress down until it pooled at my feet.
Cristiano wet his lips, his eyes drifting to the ivory lingerie I’d worn for a wedding night I’d planned to share with Diego. Diego and I had made love, but tonight, I’d been ready to give in to the passion we’d been forced to bridle for years. How naïve.
Cristiano dipped his head. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought it was in reverence. “Beautiful.”
I shifted from one heel to the other. “You’ve seen me in my bra and underwear before.”
“In your bathroom, after the warehouse fire.” He nodded, his angular jaw firming. “But I didn’t let myself look at you this way. All I’d have seen was what I couldn’t have.” His broad chest expanded with an inhale as he raised his chin. “Now, all I see is everything I own. Every last inch of you, my darling.”
My heart skipped. We’d been married mere minutes, yet he acted as if I was his possession. “Just because we’re married doesn’t make this consensual.”
“As I’ve said before, you always have a choice. You can walk out of this church now and into my brother’s arms. I’d ask you to stay, but I wouldn’t force you.”
A flicker of irritation for his word play made me retort. “But you would allow a rival cartel to exact revenge for the money Diego lost them.”
“It cost me a great deal to call them off. More than Diego can ever repay.” Cristiano shook out his wrist and adjusted his substantial watch without breaking eye contact. “But as long as I have you, his debt is forgiven, and they won’t lay a finger on you or anyone you love.”
His solid footsteps resounded through the pews as he circled me and stopped at my back. Perhaps he’d rip off my underwear the way he had my dress. I didn’t care—unlike my mother’s gown, they were worth nothing.