OWN (EBOOK): Beautiful Sinner Series Page 4

  No need to ask who he’s speaking about. There’s only one person in this world that can make him bend the knee. “How much is this going to cost?”

  “Depends on how much we piss her off in the future.” At my raised brow, he sends a wink in her direction. She’s watching him too. “Luna wants us drunk. Says she needs new blackmail material for later.”

  “Jesus.” The women in this family are insane. But then again, I’m the same for Amberlyn. A sobering thought because the truth is, I can’t. Not yet. Taking her with me would be irresponsible, and while my men are loyal, until I have complete control over the island—more importantly, its government—I’d never put her in that position. “Then so be it.” Taking both drinks, I knock them back while he raises a brow. “I’m sure she’ll have plenty against me soon enough.”

  “Two more.” He tells the waiter while grabbing the glasses in my hands and placing them back atop his tray. “And she’s already pissed at you.”

  A rough exhale leaves me, and I scrub a tired hand down my face. “How many people know?”

  “Those that matter.” Thiago shrugs. “We also don’t agree. Never have.”

  “I don’t need you to.” It comes out much harsher than I intended it to, my jaw clenching. The phone in my pocket also vibrates then, and it reminds me of each text I’ve ignored in the last forty-eight hours. All hers. All make the guilt worse.

  How’s your day going? ~Mermaid

  I’m all sore and achy today. ;) ~Mermaid

  Is everything okay? ~Mermaid

  You know where to find me when you’re ready. ~Mermaid

  “True, but we care enough to warn you that there’s an unnecessary huge wall you’re about to slam into.” Thiago’s hand on my shoulder gives a squeeze, while his head tilts in my mermaid’s direction. “What you do with the warning is your problem, but don’t complain afterward. You crash and burn, and I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive you.”

  “Luna forgave you.”

  “She also knows I love her more than my own life.” His eyes meet mine, his expression deadpan. “Can Amberlyn say the same?”

  The answer is no, and that burns like acid in my chest.

  I’ve kept her in the background for different reasons, possibilities that change depending on the scenario, but they’re all the same. With Thiago in jail over a bullshit setup, I took over and as such, the threats toward me were large enough to crumble a weaker man.

  She’s seen the evidence of my car being shot at.

  She’s been there for Luna during Thiago’s incarceration.

  She agreed for the time being to silently stand by my side until normality returned to our family.

  And maybe it’s been selfish of me to keep us private and without the attention that comes from dating a De Leon, but not once have I given her a reason to question my loyalty to her. I’m also man enough to admit we can’t continue like this.

  I just need a little more time. “Cuba isn’t Miami, Thiago. We both know what I’m walking into.” While South Florida has always been great for business, the product we move through the island is vast and fast, two things others covet. Things are ever changing, the demand for the black-market weapons procured overseas and the perico Casper provides has quickly become a large percentage of our last quarter’s earnings, and this has brought unwanted attention our way.

  The US government is sniffing.

  The Cuban regime wants to fuck us in the ass.

  Many here want to make a name for themselves.

  More so, I won’t allow anyone else to pay for my sins. She won’t become a casualty.

  I’m here to bend both countries over and discipline them as one would a child.

  The De Leon hand feeds and takes and will fuck you over without a second of remorse.

  “It’s a mess and won’t be easy, Ivan, I’ll give you that. But, keep in mind that the women in our lives are resilient and have bigger balls than we do at times.”

  “And stubborn,” I mutter, but he hears. Fucker chuckles, too. “That woman is going to make me pay.”

  “Agreed.” My brother shrugs. “They know who we are and accept it.”

  “I’m not doing this to be an asshole. They threatened her because of me, and keeping her close will only feed their ammunition—they’ll know how important she is to me. All I want is her safety—just that.”

  “What if she walks, Ivan? That’s always a possibility.”

  “Her feelings for me are what I’m holding on to.” Have to. “Besides, between political greed and civil unrest—the kind of anarchy that will burn the country to the ground using the accelerant I provide—it’s unsafe either way. I won’t take the chance. Not until our family has complete control over the island.”

  “What about the threat here? Are you going to tell her?”

  “No.” My eyes narrow, the warning clear. He might be slightly older, but I’ve never been one to take his shit or be afraid. Respect is one thing, but betray me and I would kill my own blood. “That’s not up for discussion. I want her free and happy and untouched by this. They’ll also be dead before I go.”

  I’d never forgive myself if she spent a single moment of her life afraid or watching over her shoulder. That’s my job.

  “You forget just how much of a grudge she can hold.” The waiter returns then with our drinks, and we each take a tumbler. He takes a sip and grins. “Remember when I crashed her car?”

  This time I snort over the rim. “Is she still giving you the stink eye for that?”

  “You know it’s more than that.” And I do know because every once in a while, my mermaid gives me the same hard look. What we asked of her all those years ago, to make Luna believe that Thiago cheated, still grates on her. More so, because I’m the one that talked her into it, knowing and using what was a crush back then. “Don’t lose her. Don’t repeat my mistake.”

  Without another word, my brother walks away and toward his fiancée, taking Luna’s hand before pulling her out of the room. The reception fills with chuckles and his not-so-subtle flip off from over his shoulder is typical, but I’m more riveted by the quick look of longing that flits across Amberlyn’s face.

  It’s there. So much sadness.

  But then it’s gone just as fast, and she says something to those around her that makes them laugh before excusing herself. I follow her every move; she’s heading toward the bar when my father intercepts and then points toward the dance floor.

  “Old fucker,” I say, shaking my head as he twirls her three times fast before those around them join. There’s an old-school merengue playing, and people begin to sing, moving their hips to the beat while my viejo begins a series of fancy turns. The faster he goes, the louder my mermaid’s giggle get before passing her over to one of Luna’s family members from the Dominican Republic.

  My smile drops and body tenses. The hold I have on my glass is close to cracking it, even if they’re doing nothing more than dancing. Even if the distance between their bodies is respectful.

  Yet I hate it. Any male close to her.

  I know him. He’s an okay guy, a few years older than my twenty-six and with good hacking skills. He’s related to the bride’s mother somehow—I think a stepbrother—as Luna’s grandfather continued having kids very late into his life.

  They’re a total of twenty-four kids with only sixteen alive.

  They’re also not the closest, something my sister-in-law wants to remedy by making him a part of the wedding party.

  For the next two tracks, I don’t move from my spot. Can’t. Not when every single part of my DNA demands I pull her away from him and show the world she’s mine.

  And almost as if she senses my reproach, Amberlyn’s smart enough to take a step back after the next song ends, and with a smile and turns to walk away. His eyes stay on her, though. I see the interest, but I’d never allow it.

  Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

  “Long time no see, primo.” Mirabel slides in beside me, pulling my attention away from my girl. There’s a sassy grin on my cousin’s face, a tell of her amusement. “Did she finally kick you to the curb?”

  “Your shoes are hideous.” I have no clue if they are, but the woman is in the fashion industry and takes that shit seriously. And at the moment, if pissing her off gets her to shut up, so be it. The last thing I want or need is more meddling. “Dress is last season, too.”

  “Asshole.” Not annoyed—there’s too much mirth in her tone.

  “Everyone has one.” Bringing the glass to my lips, I knock back what’s left and wave the empty tumbler toward a waiter who nods. “Speaking of...where’s your husband?”

  “No argument there, and at the bar talking shop with all the old men in attendance.”

  “What is he selling now?”

  “A ‘56 Chevrolet Bel Air.”

  “Nice.”

  “But enough about cars and husbands...” she trails off and I look over, catching an arched brow and a smirk on her lips. “When are you going to make it right?”

  “You’re fishing for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “Or am I calling it as I see it?”

  “No clue what you’re talking about.” It’s then I sense my sirenita close. The heat of her stare is coming from my back. There’s this rush of something I can’t quite explain whenever she’s near, this electrical wave that settles on the tip of my cock and it flexes—fucking throbs against the zipper of my dress pants. My entire body, every muscle, tenses, and I exhale deeply. “Quit trying to annoy me.”

  “Sure I am.” Mirabel’s eyes scan the room, searching for something, and then she flicks them back to me. She knows. As Thiago said, they all do. “Where’s red hiding now? I thought she’d be over after her spin on the floor. She asked me for information on this trip—”

  “No clue. Don’t care.”

  “Stop that. You love it.”

  “She’s nothing more than an obligation.” My voice is loud enough that it carries, and the low gasp from behind me makes my chest ache. Please forgive me, little Sirenita. Trust me.

  5

  “SHE’S NOTHING more than an obligation.”

  Heat flames my face, and it’s from shame.

  Embarrassment.

  The way my heart breaks as I watch the man I’ve loved since my youth talk about me as if I were a nuisance and not the woman he slept with a few nights ago. But then again, I’ve always been an idiot—weak—when it comes to Ivan De Leon.

  I’ve given him my first kiss.

  My virginity.

  My heart.

  What has he given me in return?

  I should leave. Move or curse at him for the pain currently building inside my chest—for how hard breathing is—but instead, my high-heeled feet are rooted to the marble floor beneath me a few feet from him. I’m unable to do anything but lean against the large pillar and watch as he laughs at my expense. The sound feels like the cut of a sharp blade, and not one of the usual butterflies he brings present.

  Always from the fringes. It’s what I’ve always done.

  Since we met as teenagers and every time he’s asked something of me, I’ve been there but kept at arm's length. Unless he wants to warm my bed, and then and only then, am I given affection.

  A glimpse of what could be.

  At first, that was okay. We agreed that the timing was off and with his brother in jail, it was best to wait. I stood by his side through numerous attempts on his life, rough nights, and dangerous meetings—I never questioned my place with him until recently.

  Our relationship should’ve been celebrated once Thiago came out, yet I’m still waiting months later.

  I’ve been a constant. I’ve been a fool.

  “Don’t be an ass, primo,” Mirabel chastises, lips thinning as she cuts him a glare. “But then again, men are always this stupid. You’ll be just like the rest, crying when Amberlyn walks away.”

  “She’d never.” Not a single ounce of doubt, his voice hard. Almost angry at her audacity. “Her love keeps her here.”

  “But I’m learning to hate you just as much.” The words leave me in a whisper, not that he can hear inside of the large ballroom where the rehearsal dinner with the entire De Leon family is taking place. Well, more party than dinner for Luna and Thiago’s big day. The wedding is tomorrow at their home. The family is full of happiness and laughter is all around me, yet I feel as though someone died.

  Suddenly, sweat dots across my forehead, and the room feels too small.

  Too many people.

  My shame feels as though it's on full display and they all know.

  Fuck, I need to get out.

  “You look like you’re in need of an escape.”

  There’s no need to look over; I’ve known this woman just as long as anyone else here. “I do, but I’ll be fine. This is your day and...” my head tilts and eyebrows furrow “...didn’t I watch Thiago nearly drag you out a few minutes ago?”

  “He just needed a little sugar.”

  “Sugar?” Voice low. It’s hard to get the words out with the huge lump in my throat.

  “What can I say? I’m so sweet.” Luna snorts, her arm slipping through mine as she begins to pull me away from Ivan. Each step is painful, yet my lungs expand with a much-needed breath, and I don’t look back no matter how much my heart demands that I do.

  No one stops us as we make it outside and onto a large balcony overlooking the warm South Florida waters. And even though the daytime hit a high of ninety-five, the cool seventies gracing our skin now feels suffocating.

  Maybe it’s what happened. The harsh truth that’s been smacking me in the face for years and I’ve been ignoring, hoping, and praying they were false. That he did feel for me and not that I’d played a game and lost; a mere puppet to be moved as he pleased.

  “Talk to us.” I’ve been so lost inside my head that I never heard Natasha follow us. I also have no idea how we ended up near the far left and sitting on a large stone bench a few feet from a set of stairs that leads to a small garden and then the beach. “What did Ivan do?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking—”

  “Cut that out, chick. You two aren't as careful as you think you are.”

  “I’m pathetic.” How long have they known? A self-deprecating laugh slips before I can school my expression, and my best friends each grab a hand. It hasn’t always been this way for us; at first Luna thought Thiago cheated—another place where my feelings for Ivan made me stupid—but meeting them has been the biggest blessing. They’re the sisters I never had. “And nothing that should surprise me. I should know better by now.”

  “Love makes us do and accept crazy things,” Luna says, and when I turn my head in her direction, I find the striking brunette looking out into the late evening sky. The smile on her face is one I’ve seen before and holds a tinge of anger, but it’s pushed back just as soon and replaced by understanding. “The men in this family are nothing more than stubborn idiots, I swear.”

  She’s been where I am. Hurt by one of the brothers.

  Yet, Thiago did what he did out of love. Out of the need, barbaric and stupid as it may have been, to protect her even if it meant pushing Luna away. His idiocy came from loyalty, while Ivan’s is fake.

  Obligation: I’m nothing more than an easy lay and someone he has no choice but to put up with.

  “Or maybe I’ve been too blinded to see and accept my reality.” The first tear rolls down my cheek, and they squeeze my hands in solidarity. For a few minutes we stay in silence, enjoying the clear evening sky, but it doesn’t last long as I fight to swallow a sob. Hurt is churning and turning and is quickly becoming ire. At me. At him. At fate for putting him in my path. “I can’t do this anymore,” I say after a while and close my eyes, fighting to control my emotions. My voice is low. Breaking. “Can’t keep putting myself in a vulnerable position when who I wish would catch me, always lets me fall. I’m worth more than that. Deserve more than late-night visits and empty words.”

  “You do,” they say in unison, but then they give me the silence I need.

  For the most part, I’m not the most emotional person. I’m more of a suffer-in-silence type of person, and yet, he’s my exception. Ivan is a weakness I need to shake off, but in the past have failed to do so time and time again.

  So while the clock sounds in the distance letting us know we’re at the top of the next hour, I make up my mind.

  I’m done.

  Fuck him.

  The sigh that leaves me is heavy. “Please don’t hate me, Luna.”

  “I’d never, Lynnie. Just tell me what you need me to do.” Turning my face toward hers, I open my eyes and meet her stare. Luna’s giving me a smirk that says she’ll get her fiancé to punch Ivan if I ask, and all I can offer back is trembling lips and more than likely ruined makeup. “You want me to have his—”

  “I say we slash his tires.” Nat cuts her off, and I shift my attention. She releases my hand before clapping once, then stands and paces—muttering under her breath while shaking her arms out like fighters do. “What if I add eyedrops to his coffee? Get his mom to serve him liver and onions for a month straight...she’d do it, too. That woman is brutal, and I love her.”

  I’m nodding, wiping my tears. They don’t stop but have slowed. “Maritza is my shero.”

  “So payback it is? We choose violence?” Nat asks, and Luna laughs a bit. Crazy women.

  No whining. No complaints. No hesitation.

  It’s why I love these two and would do anything for them. Their friendship is honest and giving. Never selfish.

  “I don’t want to walk down the aisle with him.” Even as the words leave me, I can’t help but cringe at them. My emotions are all over the place, and between the guilt and selfishness I feel for asking this of Luna, there’s also so much relief. Distance is the only way I’ll survive the next twenty-four hours. It’s how I start getting over him. “I’ll do it if there’s no choice—”