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Waves crashed against the shore as silence fell over each of us. Cristiano was controlling, dominant, and rough around the edges, but was he loving? My heart answered with a skipped beat. I’d known from the beginning that Cristiano hadn’t done any of this out of hatred or indifference—how did I not ever once consider it might be love? I wouldn’t believe that unless I heard it from his mouth, but I realized there was a chance it was true.

As tempted as I was to explore that possibility, the first half of Jaz’s thought demanded my attention. “Proof of what?” I asked.

“I’ve said too much.” She shook her head as she retreated. “Tell him to come home. If he doesn’t make it back, you won’t make it out. We need him. This town needs him. We can never repay him for what he’s done for us . . . but we’d all jump at the chance to.”

Her threat was clear. Nobody would bat an eye if I paid the price for their hero’s fall. But Jaz didn’t intimidate me. Her concern only demonstrated how truly worried she and the others were. That scared me—the idea of losing Cristiano. For now, it was as much as I could admit in the privacy of my own thoughts.

There were people out there who wanted Cristiano dead. I’d known that when I’d told him to go. In my mind, he was invincible, but in my heart, I knew that wasn’t true.

Cristiano was on a mission I’d sent him on. I didn’t even care what he’d gone to find. There wasn’t anything I could think of that was worth risking his life.

I could call him back.

But why did I care? Why would I tell him to retreat when I’d done nothing but try to think of ways to get away from him?

The people I care about, I will protect.

He had sworn me his protection, but he was out there now, unprotected.

And my care could bring him home—if I could allow myself to want that.

21

Cristiano

I’d traveled across the country, brought along two of my most trusted men, and worst of all, left behind my new bride—only to come up empty-handed. Now, I navigated a small crowd in a warmly lit hotel ballroom with chandeliers overhead, hit songs on the speakers, and a fresh mezcal in my hand.

Max, Daniel, and I had kicked up mud on our way through dirt-road towns, hitting up local bars and banging on doors to ask questions that put targets on our backs—all in an effort to excavate information from those who were willing to sell at the risk of their lives.

But the remaining members of the long-disbanded Valverde family were nowhere to be found since they’d changed their identities and gone into deep hiding. Either that, or they were dead.

So I was hitting somewhere even more dangerous—the elite. Those who had more, demanded more, but also possessed an even greater weakness for money than the poverty-stricken towns we’d just come from. The right offer to the right person could produce information. But the wrong inquiry to the wrong one? These people had enough money and power to wipe anyone from existence.

Some—myself included—would call me a fool for trying to raise one rival from the dead when I already had another to contend with. Belmonte-Ruiz wanted my neck after the attack Sandra had helped us pull off, the most recent in a line of several. But the information the Valverde family possessed could be invaluable—proven by the fact that I was still trying to track them down.

Natalia had been right, though. What was all of this for if I couldn’t have everything I wanted?

Tonight was my first politician’s event. Everything I’d done up until now had been under the radar and cloak of anonymity. Every government and law enforcement official, judge, or ally of mine had been secured via a complicated but nearly impenetrable network that spanned the world.

Now that my identity had been revealed, I was coming to collect on years of staying clear of polite society.

I hadn’t been invited, but that didn’t matter. Senator Raúl Sanchez wouldn’t dare turn me away knowing the influence—and capital—I had to offer.

The crowd was a thing to see, particularly the confused and anxious expressions of the state’s elite when they recognized me. And, of course, as they took in disheveled, Russian Max and his glass eye, and my completely hairless associate Daniel.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Sanchez shook my hand, but I didn’t miss his furtive glances. I was both a liability and an asset, the latter being the kind better kept in the wings.

“Thank you, Senator.”

Coming up to my neck, he had a habit of looking at my chin rather than into my eyes. “How are you finding your new bride?” he asked.


Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance