“Let me see if I have this right,” Costa said. “You kidnapped and married my daughter without my permission, and in exchange, you’re keeping the Maldonados from eliminating every last one of us.”
“That’s Diego’s version of the story, so it’s not entirely accurate. But the outcome is nevertheless the same—Natalia and I are married.”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t have it annulled and Natalia on a plane back to California.”
I glanced sidelong at my bride. “I think that reason will mean more coming from Natalia herself.”
Her eyes flitted up to mine, as if I’d called on her to recite the North American Free Trade Agreement. In Costa’s bright, sunny office, her irises appeared violet. “Cristiano has agreed to cover Diego’s—the Cruz cartel’s—debt,” she said, and turned back to her father. “Without Cristiano, the Maldonados are still a threat to all of us.”
“Natalia understands this is greater than me and her. With this union, you and I are family. Our loyalty is to each other. You have my protection, not just against the Maldonados, but against anyone who dares cross us.” I smiled tightly. “That would’ve always been true if I hadn’t been forced from this home. We’re stronger together.”
“There were other ways of merging,” Costa said.
“This way, we’re respected as one family. With the exception of Diego, of course.” I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “Thanks to me, the Maldonados have pardoned Diego. But he has not been pardoned by me—or you.”
Natalia swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“We’re partners now.” I glanced from her to Costa. “Together, our families will accomplish great things. But Diego’s no longer my family or yours. He has nothing left—you will cut him loose or the alliance dissolves.”
“Diego has nothing left but this cartel,” Natalia said flatly, as if she were concealing any emotion she might have about that.
Smart, but frustrating for me.
“A prison of his own making,” I said, eyeing her. “I promised to let him live, nothing more.”
“Why would I cut free a good man?” Costa asked. “Despite his flaws, he’s been loyal to us.”
Anger simmered below the surface. I’d been treated like a criminal for eleven years, and Diego was loyal? “If Diego is a man, then I am a god,” I said, “and which would you rather have protecting your family?”
Costa grunted, leaning his hands on his desk and looking over my shoulder at Barto. “Against Diego’s advice, I welcomed you back into my life,” he said, shifting his eyes back to me. “I trusted a man I wanted dead for over a decade. Since then, you have taken my daughter, stripped your brother of everything, and attacked my cartel as I sat across the dinner table from you.”
I took a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and offered it to Costa, but he shook his head. “Regarding the attacks on your houses and tunnel, I wish it could’ve been different,” I said. “It was necessary, and I’ll repay you.”
“You killed my men.”
“A cost of doing business.” If I were in Costa’s shoes, I’d have security marching up here now to take me away, but he’d never been as sentimental about his army as I was mine. He treated his men better than most, but taking Diego and me in was the closest he’d come to forming attachments—and that had been at Bianca’s urging. “I owe you a great debt—”
“You could let me go—”
“Not that great.” I cut Natalia off and resisted from smirking, simply because Costa wouldn’t see the humor in it. “But I will do what I can to mitigate the loss of good men. As far as the rest, you can place the blame where it belongs—on Diego.”
“He said you’d say that,” Barto spoke from behind us.
“He took a risk working with the Maldonados.” I picked a cigarette and the lighter from the pack. I generally only indulged in smoking at the club, but I was feeling accomplished these days. “If Diego’s deal had gone well, he would’ve made another and another until he’d eventually failed and put you all at risk. I just . . . sped things along.”
“You don’t know that he would’ve failed,” Natalia said heatedly.
A fine time to find her voice, I thought wryly. “I do. He wants more. He feels he’s owed. That blinds him, and that’s how mistakes are made.” I winked at her. “If you can’t see how I’ve protected you, consider my interference a preventative measure.”
“Owed?” Costa asked. “What for?”
At one of the study’s long, wide windows overlooking Bianca’s garden, I lit my cigarette. She’d put a lot of work into the backyard, the roses especially. I pushed the window open wider, sat at the sill, and faced my new wife. My budding rose. “Diego’s grievances against this family run deep, but I don’t blame you for not recognizing that. He’s a master of disguise and manipulation.”