King of Hearts: An Arranged Marriage-Mafia Romance (Rake Forge University Series Book 2)

by Ashley Munoz

  Fuck. It was the fucking Mariano family. El Peligro had started as a cartel but over the years transitioned into a gang, the largest on the east coast. It would be lucrative for him to ally with us with something as strong as a marriage, but I wasn’t even involved in any of this shit. If I said yes right now, it would mean I was in, back in with my father’s legacy…in with the one stain on my soul that I’d always wanted removed.

  Taylor’s flushed face and growing injuries had me dropping the gun and blade.

  “Deal. Let her go, let me clean her up, and we will talk about a new deal.”

  “You swear it?”

  I nodded. “On my family.”

  His hands dropped, taking a step back from Taylor, and thank fuck she went along with the ruse and ran to me. I opened my arms, and she plastered herself to my chest, her arm going up around my neck.

  Hector came over with a blanket and placed it over her shoulders, tucking it around her.

  I wrapped my arm around her protectively.

  “We talk tomorrow. Get the fuck out of my house. You’ll be welcomed back for brunch at eleven. Come with three men only. You will be safe. If I go back on my word, you can go to war with my family.”

  The man gave Taylor one last look before he nodded at me. They grabbed their dead and injured men and began to leave.

  “See that they’re gone, and get some men to clean this place up,” I said to Hector before I turned and cleared the walkway, keeping my arm around Taylor, who was shaking.

  Once we were clear, I picked her up and carried her up the stairs, past her room.

  “Where are you going?” she whispered, her voice shuddering.

  “You sleep with me now.”

  I opened my door and walked to the bed. It was larger than hers, with a much nicer headboard and much larger window.

  Setting her down, I crouched in front of her.

  Her hands immediately went to her face, blocking my view of whether she was crying or upset.

  “Hey.” I tugged on her hand.

  She sniffed, and I realized her body was shaking still.

  “Take a sip of water, here…” I handed her my water glass, unsure if that would bug her or not. She let go of her face and accepted it, draining it completely. The darkness in the room kept her face shadowed, but the lights from outside allowed me to see the way she seemed to curl in on herself.

  “What the hell happened down there?” I asked quietly. The image of her being held by the hair was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

  She sniffed again and leveled her chin.

  “Don’t you have to go and check on things or something?”

  I shook my head. “Not until you talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  “You owe me something.” I carefully ran my hands up her thighs, just so I had an excuse to touch her. I was shaking too, although I hid it better than her. What if I’d been too late? I couldn’t even protect her in my own fucking house. How pathetic.

  “I owe you nothing, Juan. You said this wouldn’t work out and now you’re claiming me? What the hell?” Her voice cracked on the tail end of her tirade, and it nearly made me wince.

  “I needed to keep you safe,” I whispered, bringing her knuckles to my mouth.

  “Why did you have to keep me safe—why do you care?”

  I paused, unsure if I should say it, but ultimately, I wanted to know. “Earlier tonight, I asked you to ask me why this arrangement wouldn’t work, but you wouldn’t. Why?”

  Her pink tongue darted out, wetting her cracked lips. There was reluctance in her eyes, and I wanted to know why she didn’t want to just come out and tell me.

  “I’m exhausted. I really don’t want to talk. I’m freaking out about my baby…I just want to get this blood off of me and go to sleep.” A few tears slipped down her face along with her admission, and it cracked something inside of me open.

  Standing, I pulled her by the hand and walked her toward my bathroom.

  “Can you sleep in one of my shirts?” Our feet hit the marble floor and I went over toward the bath, but Taylor stopped me.

  “A shower is fine, and yes, a clean shirt will work…but are you…?” She paused, her eyes darting back and forth over my face. “Are you sleeping somewhere else, or…?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I ducked my head into the shower and turned the chrome knob to the left. I grabbed a clean towel for her then left her alone in the bathroom.

  Now that she was in the shower, my heart wouldn’t stop pounding, reminding me how close I had come to losing her. Even if he didn’t kill her, he would have taken her. The image of how she looked that first second…the way he gripped her by the hair…fuck.

  I stormed back into the bathroom and found her crying while crouched on the shower floor, the water pounding into her back. Opening the glass door, I walked in, shutting us in the steam box, still in just my boxers, and pulled her into my chest. Swiping her wet hair out of her face, I cradled her in my arms while we sat on the bath tiles, the heat pouring over us while my girl let out her demons. There was something unhinged about her tears, like she’d pulled out a hidden box that hadn’t been revealed in years and now she was shuffling through all the pain that had been locked away.

  It was with slow clarity that I realized there was more to Taylor’s life than I knew…in fact, I hardly knew her at all. The events of the night had begun to frame her in an entirely different light. All of our interactions, the way she seemed so selfish…if she had grown up with Ivan Varga as a father, then by all rights she should have been way more deranged and screwed up than she was. She was good…her soul was beautiful, but now I was finally seeing that she wasn’t just a flower; she was one who’d constantly been covered in dirt, with limited light. She should have been withered, dead; instead, she was vibrant, and I…

  Something in my chest expanded as I continued to wipe her hair out of her face. I couldn’t speak to her about my emotions or my feelings because it would ruin everything…like it had that night she pulled away from me. Instead, I spoke to her in Spanish and hoped it would heal the brokenness cracking her apart.

  “Cuando pienso en ti, no puedo respirar.” When I think of you, I can’t breathe.

  “Te has llevado la oscuridad que habitaba en mi.” You’ve stolen the darkness out of me.

  “Perdóname si trato de aferrarme a él un poco más, alma mía. Lo necesito para protegerlos a ambos.” Forgive me if I try to cling to it a little longer, my soul. I need it to protect you both.

  I held her until the water ran cold then kissed her forehead and helped her up. Steam filled the room and clouded the glass, which helped to distract me from how naked Taylor was, and how much her belly had grown in the last few months. She had no stretch marks, which didn’t surprise me; somehow this girl didn’t have to endure much when it came to this pregnancy. She still painted her toenails with ease and didn’t have swollen ankles or cravings that I had noticed.

  “Here.” I opened a large white towel and wrapped it around her back. Right as I tried to walk past her, she gripped my wrist, stopping me.

  “Why?” Her voice was rough now that she’d sobbed for nearly half an hour.

  I knew she meant the question I’d asked earlier tonight, but now I didn’t want to tell her. I had been feeling brave earlier, before all this happened, back when I thought she might walk away and leave me to my one-sided feelings. Now, looking at her, after holding her in such a tender way, she’d fucking crush me.

  I opened my mouth to say something…I wasn’t sure what, maybe the truth, but a knock on the bathroom door stopped me.

  Taylor’s head whipped toward the closed door, her body already responding to the threat with adrenaline. I gently pushed her behind me while I walked toward it.

  “Yeah?”

  “Primo, we need to talk about what you want set up out here,” my cousin Hector said through the door. Taylor wrapped her dainty fingers around my hand as if she’d s
top me from going. This was good; I wasn’t ready to tell her my confession anyway, and this would give us some distance.

  “I’ll be right out,” I yelled then turned toward Taylor. “I have a shirt for you. Get in bed and try to get some sleep. I’ll have someone posted outside the room all night.” I opened the door, a waft of steam following me out. The bedroom lights were still off, just the outside security lights beaming in through the open shades in the window.

  “Where will you be?” Taylor panicked, walking right behind me.

  “I’ll be here, making sure things are okay. Get some sleep,” I repeated one last time before opening the bedroom door and slipping out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A gentle kick to my stomach woke me. The baby had been doing that a lot lately, making it nearly impossible to sleep past five in the morning. Thankfully I wasn’t really getting up at all hours of the night yet, although I heard the last month would do that to me. Stretching, I turned from my side onto my back and absently felt the side of the bed for Juan.

  I had no idea what made me think he’d be there. It wasn’t like he’d made a real vow of any kind the night before, had just saved my life and my baby’s…we owed him ours now, forever. I’d do anything to repay that debt, including leaving if that was what he really wanted. Light poured in through the split curtains as a tiny shard of pain sliced through my chest, hollowing it out as I sat up and registered that Juan had slept in the chair by the window.

  His knuckle was pressed against his temple, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and a pillow was stuffed under his arm. He looked uncomfortable, and I had been miserable all night, worried about where he was…worried he wasn’t with me. I tried not to relive the evening prior, but that significant moment when Juan had claimed us and my father let me go…it was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life.

  Freedom, safety—it was fake, I knew as much, but something in my soul latched onto it as though it was real, and now I wanted to be near Juan as frequently as possible. He’d protected me. Even angry with me, upset…hurt by my actions, he protected me.

  The memory of him expertly holding that gun and the blade…I touched my temple as I remembered seeing my father’s men fall, and then the bloodbath near his feet when I’d run into his arms. Juan had done that. He’d killed those men within seconds, as if it was nothing.

  He’d mentioned a name…that name was so familiar, but even now, I couldn’t recall what it was.

  “Are you overthinking over there?” Juan’s scratchy voice asked from his spot by the window.

  I smiled, tucking a few stray strands behind my ear. God, my hair must be a mess. I hadn’t combed it after the shower, had just slipped into one of Juan’s shirts and crawled into bed. His shirt wasn’t as loose as I’d hoped; with the belly it was practically glued to my body. Juan had never seen me this undone before, and I didn’t know if I was ready for him to, so I pulled the blanket around my shoulders.

  “Why’d you sleep over there?” I crinkled my eyebrows at how he cracked his neck to the left.

  “To give you space.” He smiled lazily, and I wanted to grab my phone to snap a picture of him. I found myself wanting to do that more and more frequently with him.

  I shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of his sentiment. “This is a big bed—it won’t bother me if you sleep here…especially if you’re serious about me sleeping in it from now on.”

  He stood, stretching his arms above his head. The sunlight caught on the glossy black strands of hair that fell over his eyebrow. His whiskey eyes landed on me, and without a shirt, those black boxers hugging his muscular thighs…holy shit.

  His semi-hard erection.

  My tongue was nearly rolling out of my mouth at how good he looked, and my hormones were screaming at me to jump him, straddle him, and force him to love me forever.

  His strong legs carried him to where I was perched on the edge of the bed. My head tipped back to track his progress, and before I could process that my breath had hitched, he reached for my head and tilted it to the side.

  “Just checking for any bruising, or if we need to have anything checked today,” he said, pushing hair out of the way so he could see where the blood had pebbled last night.

  “It’s sore…but I think it will be fine.” I swallowed thickly.

  His soft touch caressed my ear and jaw, his fingers trailing down my heated skin in a much more sensual way than was probably necessary. It made me squirm uncomfortably.

  I had no idea if he knew the effect he had on me, but part of me thought he did, especially when he got that specific look in his eye and the side of his lip twitched upward. With his dick in near proximity, I could see now that the bulge had grown and looked painful. His fingers wrapped around my neck and began to rub circles into my shoulders while his other hand gently tugged on rogue pieces of my hair.

  I moved my hips, the ache between my thighs getting to be unbearable.

  “Hormones hitting you pretty hard?” he lightly joked, smoothing his fingers down the length of my hair until it stopped at my breast. The backs of his knuckles grazed my hardened nipples, and I let out a small whimper.

  “Yeah.” When had my voice become so breathy?

  “Check out my tub—there’s a pretty nice jet system in place that might help out.” He winked, letting my hair go.

  My face burned with embarrassment. Of course he wasn’t interested in helping me himself. After that night on my bed, we hadn’t had any more moments where we almost crossed another line. He made sure of that.

  “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” I ducked my head, shoving my frizzy hair behind my ears. He still hadn’t moved away from my space, and now, after his comment, it was awkward.

  “I’m going to check on things downstairs. Don’t come down wearing that shirt…my guys are down there.” Juan’s jaw clenched as his whiskey gaze moved over my peaked nipples, down to the fabric of the shirt, barely covering my thighs.

  “Why does it matter if they see me in this?” I laughed lightly, still feeling the heat of his eyes on me, wishing he’d touch me, hoping he wouldn’t. It would be easier if he kept this distance between us.

  “Because I don’t want them to look at you, Taylor. Not fully clothed, not partially clothed, sure as fuck not like this when you look like you were recently fucked. You probably have no idea how you look right now, but over my fucking dead body is anyone else seeing you like this.”

  He began to walk out of my space, away from me, and my veins were made of acid now. I stood, watching his muscled back as he bent to grab a pair of sweats.

  “Why would you say that to me but refuse to touch me?” I stammered, wishing my voice had come out a little stronger.

  He stood, his fingers still wrapped around the band of his lounge pants. “Why would you think I don’t want to touch you?” His eyes stayed on the phone he’d grabbed off the dresser like this conversation was the last thing on his mind.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, hating how now that I was standing, I had to pee.

  “You just…” What could I say to explain this to him without feeling stupid?

  “I’m giving you space. You seemed to want it…or did you forget that night where you pulled away from me without explanation?”

  My mouth opened, but before I could respond, someone knocked on the door, just like the night before. I was already over these guys being in the house. Juan gave me a soft smile before ducking his head.

  “Gotta go. See you down there.”

  Then he was gone, and I was left wondering what in the hell I had done to ruin the chance I had with him.

  The feeling in the house was tense.

  When I opened Juan’s bedroom door, there was a man standing guard. I gave him a small smile, but he didn’t return it; he only lowered his face and moved to the side. It served as a reminder that I’d somehow been thrust back into a world similar to the one I came from.

  I kept my eyes up and roaming as I descended t
he stairs. My feet briskly made their way past the living room, where several dead bodies had lain the previous night, until I was treading into the kitchen.

  My eyebrows crinkled in confusion as I tried to piece together what was in front of me. A female, short and round with greying curls and deep brown eyes, was dicing green chilies on a cutting board. A taller woman, somewhat close in age but with eyes that matched Juan’s, stood next to her, tossing chopped tortillas into a skillet.

  “No me ha dicho nada de ella,” the taller woman said in the same lilted accent that Juan had when he spoke to me in Spanish. The memory of the night before surfaced, the way his lips moved against my ear and the cadence of those haunting words. It felt as though he was confessing something, but I had no idea if that were true. He could have been calling me a massive cow for all I knew, but it felt tender and real.

  The women looked up right as I placed my hands on the back of the barstool.

  “Hello.” I smiled, trying to be kind. Something told me these women were Juan’s family, or somehow part of all the family that had shown up.

  Both women stared at one another, the taller one whispering something to the other under her breath in Spanish.

  “Hello, I’m Marie.” The shorter woman wiped her hands on her apron, moving around the island. “Juan’s aunt.”

  I shook her hand and tried to relax as her eyes dropped to my belly.

  “You’re so big, my goodness…but all belly. The rest of you is so thin.” She held her hands out, a wide smile erupting on her face.

  No one had really acted in a positive way about my belly bump except for Juan, so it was different seeing her smile, as if me being all belly was a good thing.

  “Do you eat?” the taller woman asked, glaring at me from her perch at the counter, dicing and chopping items and tossing them aggressively in the skillet.

  “Uh…yes,” I replied, a little confused by her question. Of course I ate.

  “So skinny—doesn’t look like you eat anything.”