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He turns with wide eyes to our father. “Papa, you cannot let this stand.” My younger brother turns to me with an angry scowl. “You are going.”
“I am not, and I’m done with this conversation.” Instead of staring down the men in my family, I reach for the food and put a little of everything on my plate, a reminder that I haven’t eaten in favor of spending a night having spectacular orgasms.
The table falls silent as everyone fills their plates, and I allow myself to relax since the conversation is over. For now. I’m under no delusion that Emiliano and maybe even Papa won’t mention this again. In fact, I’m most surprised that Benedicto has not said anything else about it. Then again, maybe he has more important things on his mind.
“Valentina.” Papa’s voice is firm, and I prepare myself for a fight.
My gaze meets his, and I sit taller, straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders. Battle ready. “Yes, Papa?”
“I owe you an apology, mi amor. I thought that, in time, you would grow to love Alejandro. That you would grow to love each other as your mama and I did.”
I bite my tongue because there’s so much I want to say, but none of it is helpful in the face of his apology. “I forgive you, Papa, and thank you for apologizing. I didn’t dislike Alejandro, and I made sure his mama has everything she needs to give him a beautiful send-off.”
“Good. The subject is closed.” Papa bites into his chuleta. “Benedicto, you did an excellent job of finding authentic comida Columbiano. Thank you.” Papa takes another bite and wipes his mouth. “The first shipment with the Reckless Souls has come in, and they took care of everything just as I wanted.”
“Good. That means we can all go back to Colombia, right?”
Papa’s jaw clenches at Emiliano’s stupid question. “No, we cannot all go back to Colombia! We have to be sure that this continues even when we are gone.”
“But, Papa,” he begins like the whiny little boy he often proves himself to be.
“Papa is right,” Benedicto finally chimes in. “After killing two of their men and placing that dead puta on their property, we must be sure they won’t fuck us.”
I bite down on the inside of my jaw to prevent my shock from showing. I’m not naïve about the family business because, despite how much Papa thinks he shields me, he can’t hide everything.
But I had no idea they killed two of Jake’s men or why.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting it out slowly as flashes of my time with Jake come to mind. He kisses me like I matter to him. He fucks me like a possessive man infatuated—at the very least—with a woman. Jake doesn’t look at me with the blank stare Alejandro wore so frequently.
He looks at me with purpose. Intent.
My mind wanders to what is that intent?
Does Jake know his men were killed by my family? Is he with me for revenge?
I suck in another silent breath as reality crashes over me. This is why Jake is so worried about our relationship. There is too much animosity between our families for this to ever work in the real world.
“I will keep an eye on the bikers, Papa, to make sure they aren’t planning to fuck us.” Benedicto’s serious gaze settles on Emiliano. “And you will not antagonize them.”
“You don’t run shit,” Emiliano reminds our brother. “I will do as I please, including paying a visit to Morgan so he knows that nothing has changed.”
“You will do no such thing, hijo,” Papa roars at him. “We never know who is watching the family. That’s the reason for the bikers, Emiliano. Morgan has been taken care of.”
“How can you be sure?” Emiliano begins.
“Because it is my job to be sure. It is your job to do as I say, and I’m telling you, don’t go near Morgan.”
Angry, my brother pushes away from the table and storms off. The tension subsides with his absence, allowing me to turn my thoughts back to the matter at hand. Jake. Dix.
It’s not love that I share with Dix. It's a curious blend of fondness and desire.
I’m not quite sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dix
I hear Banger's voice behind me as I line up my shot on the pool table, “You got a new chick, don't you?” I look over at him after sinking my ball in the middle right pocket.
“Yeah? What makes you say that?” I try to keep my tone neutral, but I can’t help feeling a little uneasy. Banger’s too observant for his own good.
“Come on, bro. You’re gone all the time, and when you come back, you always look a little... oh, I don’t know, fucked up.” He gestures at me with his hand and grumbles at the missed shot. “Who is she?”
