I wake up feeling warm, surrounded by the familiar scent of my husband. For a moment, just a single moment, I think we're back home at The Site, our children just down the hall in their rooms, the nanny in hers, the cook about to prepare breakfast. As realization hits, a spike of pain pierces me and it's everything I can do not to throw Andres' arms from my body. I try to keep my breathing even so I don't wake him up.My mind is racing. He intends to keep me here, forever. He wants to take me away from our children. I understand why. Or at least I'm trying to, but it hurts so much. He thinks giving me a new child, one that his family doesn't know about, will solve everything. I don't want a secret child. I want Cristo and Sola. I want my babies. They fill my mind until they're all I can think about; their sound, their smell, everything about them. I lay next to Andres obsessing about my babies until I become consumed by my thoughts.I think hard, trying to figure out what to do. I'm
Buzz, buzz, buzz…I wake up, instantly alert, my hand hitting the bed next to me. Fuck, she's gone. I know exactly what's happened, though I pray that we aren't under attack, that Luna hasn't been taken somehow. Impossible. No one knows about this place. She's left, trying to get back to our children on her own. If she manages to get off the property she could easily be taken by an enemy if she makes a wrong move, if she's detected in a place she shouldn't be. All of us Decenas have targets on our backs. Luna knows this, but she's desperate, exhausted, hurt. She might make a mistake.And once she's home, if she says the wrong thing to the wrong person, her life will be taken. She's too emotional to think clearly, she needs me by her side, tempering her reactive nature. I should have tied her to the bed. Shouldn't have slept so hard. Shouldn't have had that tequila. I should have known she'd run the first moment she had a chance. Our children mean everything to her.All this runs thr
I can hear something beeping and it annoys me. I hear voices talking in hushed tones, then a man's voice raised in anger. I hear sneakers squeaking on the floor. Cool hands touch my arm, poke and prod me. These things all annoy me. I'm pretty sure death shouldn't be so fucking annoying. The beeping, the hushed voices, everything, they all suck balls.I want to say something. Open my mouth and tell them all to fuck off. To bring me my sun chair and margarita. I earned some tasty booze, I earned heaven. I tried to be a good mother and wife. I tried to be the best! Maybe I was a failure, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I died trying to be the best I could be. I earned better than this annoying bullshit, whatever this is.It takes me a few hours… or maybe a few days, I'm really not sure since I can't seem to open either my mouth or my eyes, to figure out that this isn't heaven. Thank God! I'm probably not even dead. Death shouldn't suck this much. Awareness comes to me in flashes, some
"Mama!" Cristo and Sola throw themselves into Luna's arms as she hits her knees in the dirt outside our home at The Site, heedless of the damage she's doing to her silk trousers. I think she said they were Valentino or something. I don't usually pay attention to the brands unless they're sexy enough that I want her to do a little extra shopping.I chuckle as she lands kisses all over their faces, tries to answer the questions they're peppering her with while pulling gifts from the bags she's carrying. I know they will notice me in a few minutes once they get over their initial mama obsession. Though we passed off that late night mad dash Miami boat ride as a vacation, the children know better. They felt the tension, the fear. They remember Luna's tears, her cries as they were being hauled away. Cristo is particularly protective of Luna now. He watches her like a hawk and becomes grumpy when she needs to leave for more than a day. He was unbearable the days leading up to this recent va
"Lena, dance."I stiffen, not wanting to turn around, but having no choice. I know who is speaking, his curt voice, the timbre, the inflection and accent, unmistakable. I turn slowly, keeping Manuel on my right, still within my line of sight as I face Luis. The boss's son, a man who's made it clear that we are not friends, we're not even acquaintances. We're enemies. And in our world, the mafia world, an enemy in one's own camp is a very dangerous thing.His sexual appeal is undeniable. He's tall, broad, and darkly dangerous. His inky black hair is long, tied at the back of his neck in a ponytail that flows to midway down his back. His suit is fit to kill. Women that is. Dark, tailored, with a crisp white dress shirt and a black bowtie. Everything about him is proper. But I know better. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing, fitting in where he doesn't belong. A killer pretending to be civilized.I despise the zing that goes through my body as I study him. The way my heart beats overtime
I watch as she walks away from me. The fury I feel when she's near is close to the surface again. I can't explain what it is about Lena that gets to me, but something about her pushes my buttons. Perhaps her veneer of cool sophistication. Her untouchable attitude.Or perhaps it's as simple as a woman preferring to warm my father's bed. Since the moment my father installed her in our home as his 'bodyguard' I've been drawn to the enigmatic brunette. Her slight accent and the exotic features hint at a past worth exploring, but my father has refused to share details of his acquisition beyond that he found her in a Russian whorehouse.She rejoins him, taking his arm in an easy move, maintaining the fabrication that she is his girlfriend. My father is not a bad looking man. Manuel Ramirez is in his mid-sixties, 30 years older than me. He's a tall man, his shoulders and arms hint to the muscles that used to define his physique. His hair is dark with silver streaks and he sports a mustache
I feel him before I see or hear him. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands on end, warning me that a predator is near. I force myself to continue scanning the single person meals that Theresa, our chef and general housekeeper, made and stored in the fridge.Of course, Luis is not one to be ignored. Seconds after I sense his presence a hand lands on the door next to my head, slamming it shut in my face. I'm forced to jump back or get a body part slammed in the fridge. My back brushes against him and I jerk around to face him, pressing myself against the fridge.His scent assails me, masculine, clean. He's taken a shower recently. My gaze drifts to his long silky black hair, left loose to dry around his shoulders."Midnight snack?" he asks, his voice a sarcastic sneer.I rarely eat at regular times and never with the family, unless we're at a function where it's necessary for me to eat with Manuel. I don't eat with the other staff either. Most of them don't know that I'm
I'm sitting in the back seat of the sleek black town car next to Manuel. He asked me to accompany him to a meeting with one of his contacts. It's somewhat unusual for a mafia 'girlfriend' to attend a business meeting, but most of Manuel's colleagues have gotten used to seeing me at these meetings.Manuel Ramirez is top of the food chain; he commands unlimited respect and is allowed to bring whomever he wants to a business meeting. He's one of the most dangerous men in the world. Wealthy beyond belief, his money is acquired through drugs and human trafficking. But he's also an arms dealer and a smart investor. He takes me everywhere and his men have gotten used to talking in front of me. None know of our arrangement. It's a good one. I keep him safe and he pays me well.I fuck up, and well... I've never fucked up so I don't know exactly what he'd do. Manuel is a cold man, though sometimes I think he's softened toward me. I'm under no illusion though that he won't ship me back to where