Natalia Love is the deadliest weapon.It’s sharper than a sword. More precise than a sniper’s rifle. It takes without discrimination of age, gender, or race.If you’re human, you’re defenseless. There is no barrier that can stop it. Once you’ve looked into its shadowed eyes, there’s nothing you can do to arm yourself against something so powerful.My father warned me about love. “Keep your head down,” he always said. “Stay focused on what’s in front of you.”He told me love would only bring me betrayal and deception and pain. That loving someone would put me in a vulnerable place. That it was like handing someone a loaded gun, placing their finger on the trigger, and pressing the barrel right over your heart, daring them not to pull.“Their fingers always twitch, Em,” he’d say. “And a bullet to the heart is impossible to survive.”I’d grin at him in that way I knew melted some of the frost from his expression. “I bet I can find someone on the internet who survived a bullet to the hea
It’s true that betrayal can spark to life a bone-deep hatred of someone. But love and hate aren’t natural opposites that cancel each other out. They can reside within the same heart. Bleed into each other. Become so tightly wound around each other that it becomes impossible to tell which is which.Guess I won’t have the time to sort that mess out.“Good night, Natalia .” His deep, warm voice rumbles through me just before the crack of the hammer against the bullet.Pain spears me through the chest and I go down to the floor. White-hot fire blazes from my ribs to my back and I futilely gasp for air .He stands over me, looking at me the way I imagine he has with the dozens of others he’s killed. Then he lifts his arm and aims at my chest once again to deliver the finishing blow.And he shoots.Nathan Four Months Ago…Death.It surrounds me. It’s in everything that I do. Eating. Breathing. Fucking.I wield it like an extension of me, a scythe that forms another limb.I’ve been given th
“I know who you are,” I say to Patterson . “You have information for me?”“Yes. But you’re going to need to see this in person. Can you be here between one and two?”“I’ll be there.”Two hours later, I pull my black Aston Martin DBS Superleggera into the parking lot of the morgue where my father’s autopsy was performed.I remain in the car for a few minutes, breathing deeply, my hands clutched to the steering wheel.For as many people as I’ve sent here, I’ve never been to a morgue. Wish I’d come sooner, seen the blue bodies of random strangers to get acclimated.I step out and go into the building, where I’m met by Patterson . We pass the lone receptionist stationed at a curved desk to the right. She doesn’t bother glancing our way, simply keeps her head bowed over a bowl of noodles.“It’s lunchtime,” Patterson informs me. “Arteta is under Andre’s employ. She won’t let anyone disturb us.”I follow him down a wide sterile-looking hallway that reminds me of the ones in hospitals, with p
To see him naked now, cut up and stitched back together, helpless… He may not have had my love, but he has my fierce loyalty. As does Katy . I will find out who killed him and give them both peace. I look at his gaunt face, cheeks sunk in and lips blue, and can’t find a hint of the life he once had. There’s nothing but a mask that resembles the man he used to be. “Tell me what you found,” I order through gritted teeth. Patterson slips on latex gloves. From a small tray, he grabs a sharp tool and uses it as a pointer. “There are two gunshot wounds. The first is this graze.” He signals to a gash on his left forearm. “The second here”—he indicates the one low on his chest—“is the point of entry for a nine millimeter bullet which was lodged in his spine. It hit him straight on at close range. Being this far down, it makes me believe the person who shot him was either short or had their elbow bent.” “Someone short,” I repeat, my mind flipping through the catalogue of every short fuck I
Either way, it seems a conversation between us is in order. He needs to unfuck this situation so that my father can get justice. That, or he can get out of my way.Sliding into my vehicle, I slam the door shut with enough force to make the windows rattle.It’s rare that I lose control, but I’m so angry that it’s hard to rein in the fury. My stepmother’s distraught face flitters through my mind.“Promise me you’ll make them pay, Nathan ,” she begged. “Whoever took Leonardo from me needs to pay.”Katy may not be my biological mother, but she’s the only one I have. And I promised her.I toss the bag containing the last items my father carried with him onto the passenger seat. When it lands, the contents shift, spreading out inside the plastic.Sunlight streaming through the windshield glints off the gold rings he favored. One for his forefinger, one for his middle, and…Frowning, I grab the bag and bring it in for closer inspection. There are three rings. My father only wore two.I take
“Yeah, bitch, take my dick. I’m stretching you so good with my big cock, aren’t I?”Grimacing, I go to the wet bar by the dinette near the stern and pour myself a shot of whiskey.It takes him about thirty seconds to finish. Although it seems like an eternity to me and I’m sure to the poor woman in there with him too. All the while, he demeaned her, called her a whore and a slut because he needed her approval. Validation that he was big enough to make her feel something.I’ve never seen Andre ’s dick. Don’t need to view his prick to know it’s probably proportional to his body size.Because if your dick is big enough, you don’t need to ask a woman if she feels it. In fact, if you’re big enough, she shouldn’t be able to speak, much less answer stupid fucking questions.A few minutes later, a brunette climbs out of the lower deck, wiping white powder from her nose as she shrugs into a thin red sweater. She gives me a weary smile before she grabs her purse from the cushioned benches aroun
“Or is it the other way around?” I ask, my tone still calm. “What did you do that she’s now unwilling to work with you?”His gaze flicks to mine. “What are you, my consigliere? You givin’ me advice on how to run my own show? I never appointed you to that job. It’s none of your fuckin’ concern what I do! Don’t forget, you work forme.” He points a finger at me as he sneers the last words.“Is that what you think?”“It’s what I know. I’m the king around here, bitch. I make the decisions, and if I don’t want to work with those assholes anymore, you can’t say shit. You’re nothin’ but a lackey hitman. So act like it and go kill somethin’.”His skinny neck is in my hands before he can make a peep. I have one knee on the cushion beside him, the other across the top of his legs, pinning them. But the majority of my weight is on his windpipe.“Do you know what it takes to be a hitman, cousin?”Mouth opening and closing like a fish, his tanned skin turning purple, he stares at me with wide, wild
“Good,” he said. “We may not be blood, Nathan , but wearefamily. And we do everything to protect the family.”If only his sons were half the man he was, everything would be simpler. I wouldn’t have to step in every time they piss someone off.I wouldn’t be considering removing Andre from his position.My car keys clank loudly when I toss them onto the black granite counter in my kitchen. I push the button on the fireplace mantel that turns it on and pause when I go to sit on my couch.Katy is lying there, sound asleep. I crouch beside her and swipe a lock of her dark hair from her face.“Mother?”She stirs, a soft sob escaping her, but she doesn’t fully wake. The light from the fire catches on her soft features, accentuating the lines created by age, which haven’t managed to dull her beauty.I sigh, hating to see her like this. Frail, broken. Her cheeks streaked with dry tears.It’s too late to take her home now. Besides, I’m not sure if I want her there alone, surrounded by the memor
“You’re here!” I say, heading toward it but stop when it’s Katy who appears.“You!” she hisses. “I knew something was off. He didn’t kill you!”Before I can answer, she’s on me like a rabid cat. She claws at me, slapping every part of me she can make contact with.Startled, I raise my hands protectively over my face, afraid to hit her back and severely hurt her. As it is, Nathan already hates me for any part I might have played in the death of his father.The woman may be older and weaker, but her strikes are impactful. She shoves against me, slapping her palms against my shoulders and chest, driving me toward the rear of the deck. It all happens so fast that I don’t realize I’m so close to the glass rail until it hits my lower back.“You have to calm down!” I plead.“Why did he have to want you? You look nothing like me! But Leo always liked them younger. Tell me, did you like how he fucked you?”“What? You think I slept with your husb—” Another whack, this time right across the chin
But he saved my life. He risked himself to keep me alive. And fuck it all, I love him! I can’t just sit back and let him die.A chair is pushed and the sound of footsteps come my way. Before they reach the doors, I bolt out the entrance and am already across the street when I hear, “Natalia !”But I don’t stop. Don’t look back. My mission now is to save Nathan Natalia Irun like the Devil is at my heels, not bothering to glance back over my shoulder, because even that simple action could cost me precious seconds.For blocks, I maintain that speed, my lungs burning and the stitch on my side threatening to bring me down.When I’m far enough that I feel anyone following would have lost sight of me, I tuck myself into an alley and wait. After several minutes, I tug my cell phone out and dial Nathan , but it goes straight to voicemail.“Pick up, dammit!” I dial again, but like before, it goes to his mail.“Nathan . You have to leave your house. A man named Steven Kroos is coming. He’s bri
“The hell it is. Do you have any idea the worry you put me through? No calls or texts the last couple of—” His eyes bulge from his skull as he takes in the blood on my shirt. “You’re hurt.” “No, Dad. It’s not my blood. I’m not hurt.” He digs his fingertips into the corners of his eyes as if he’s trying to keep from crying. “I thought I would lose my mind when I found out exactly who you were with. His name isn’t Nathan Manguire . It’s Nathan Carlos .” I rear back in shock that he knows. “What?” “My gut was right, Em. He’s a fucking criminal. The worst kind.” “How do you know that?” From the study, the handsome man who visited the gallery to meet with Dad steps out. Steven Kroos . His icy-blue stare roves over me, and he smiles. “I’m glad to see you’re home safe. Especially after being in the Robertson den.” “Mr. Kroos is the one who tracked down information on Carlos . Nathan is their new godfather.” His eyes narrow on me. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Looking betwee
He tilts his head, his eyes raking over my face, searching. “What makes you think that?” “It was in the way he looked at me,” I say. “It’s the same wayyoulook at me. I know you said he loved your stepmother, but I swear it’s true.” “I saidsheloved him. I never said he loved her back.” He glances out the windshield, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Is that why you killed him? You didn’t appreciate his attentions?” “He came to the house when my father wasn’t there. I’m not even sure how he got in. But he followed me from room to room and begged me to give him a chance. I asked him to leave, told him that he was scaring me. He decided to grab me and try to kiss me. “I got out of his hold and ran to the desk drawer my father keeps his Glock in and threatened him. He still refused to leave. The moment he took a step toward me, I shot. It was meant to scare him, nothing more. I could never kill anyone. The bullet grazed his arm, but he was alive.” “You didn’t follow him out?
“You cut yourself,” I say. “It wouldn’t have been believable otherwise.” “Why did you do it, Nathan ? Why did you spare my life?” He pulls over several blocks from my house. We sit there in silence for what seems like forever, the only sound the pitter-patter of scattered rain against the windshield. “Why did you save me?” I repeat the question that’s been burning in my mind. “Your mother wants me dead, but you saved me.” Without turning to me, he replies, “Iwanted you dead.” His response is another blow to my already battered heart. But he deserves the truth. “I didn’t kill your father, Nathan . It wasn’t me.” Now he does turn to me and I almost wish he hadn’t. The shadows I’ve wondered about from the start have emerged and they’re darker and more terrifying than I could have imagined. They’re blackened with Nathan ’s fury, hate, grief, and confusion. They tear at my chest, splaying it open. Raw pain fills me at the sight of those beautiful golden eyes looking so tortured, spa
My gaze flicks from her to the elevator and to the rooftop access door, wondering if I could somehow reach either of them. And if I did, are they unlocked? As if from out of thin air, Nathan produces a piece of rope. When he tries to take one of my wrists, I make to get up again, but I’m slammed into the damned chair again. It doesn’t matter how much I fight, he easily pulls my hands behind me and ties them. “You wanted her, there she is,” he says to her, and I notice with at least a bit of satisfaction that he’s panting. I guess I wasn’t that easy to subdue. Nathan ’s stepmother comes toward me, her hips swaying. She sips her wine as she studies me. “You killed my husband.” I don’t bother to respond to her comment. She doesn’t care what I have to say. If she did, she would have asked me if I did it. And if so, why. All she cares about is revenge. The who, what, and why of it doesn’t matter to her. Turning to Nathan , I realize he’s not once asked me either. They’re the same. Part
“Mmm. Is it that or that you have Natalia Kane in your bed?”I stiffen, feeling my heart leap into my throat. She knows my name?“Who I have in my bed is none of your concern,” Nathan says.“It is when that whore killed your father! That’s right,” she adds, “I know it was her.”My heart isn’t just in my throat anymore. It seems to have stopped. Suddenly, my blood pressure drops and every pore in my body releases sweat.“John ” I hear Nathan murmur just as I pull away.There’s walking, the sound of heels clacking against the wood floors. “John was loyal to Gustavo and Leo . Of course he would be loyal to me as well.”“Then he’s useless to me,” he says.“You’ve known it was her for days and have done nothing about it!” she shouts.“It is at my discretion to decide what and when I will do something, Katy .”“The godfather only has power so long as the men respect him. How do you think they will react when they find out that instead of killing her, you’ve been fucking her?”My mind racin
Or maybe I’ll just fuck you until we both die.” Her eyes fly open, and for a moment, there are no walls between us. The pain, betrayal, and lust are bared fully. “Then fuck me,” she finally says. “And maybe we’ll die together.” My mouth is on hers then. I slide my fingers from her cunt and we both work savagely at getting rid of my clothes. All the while, we kiss with a passion that only the dying know. The instant I’m naked, I’m inside her, thrusting, burying my dick all the way to the balls, pulling back out, and slamming home again. Natalia is wrapped around me, arms and legs holding me tightly against her as she lifts her hips up, meeting each of my thrusts. We fuck like we’re drowning and these are our last gasping breaths. Deep and desperate. She fits me like a fucking glove, her pussy tight around my dick, her body molding to mine perfectly. The way she tastes, smells, feels… It all fits me like no one else ever has, and for the briefest of moments, I almost wish I’d neve
I flip it open and freeze, focused intensely on the drawing of a pair of eyes.Myeyes. Only, they’re not the way I’m accustomed to seeing them. They have the same shape, same dark spots on the irises. There’s a deep crease between them. But in the drawing, they’re slightly upturned and crinkled at the edges, and there’s a slight gleam to them, as if I’m smiling.Because I was.Several times, she called my name, grinning so widely when I looked at her that I couldn’t help but smile. She captured those moments.Does light penetrate shadows, or do the shadows drown out the light?I asked that question not long ago. The answer is both. She’s managed to light up my eyes while I’ve filled hers with darkness.Blowing out a breath full of exhaustion, I set the sketch aside. Tired, I shut my lids and must drift off instantly, because a bolt of lightning that rumbles even through the sound barriers I’ve erected around the loft wakes me. Instantly, I glance at the door.Though she has access to w