The Carrera Cartel : A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Cora Kenborn

  “So stop feeling sorry for yourself and man the fuck up,” Mateo growled, and I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a suggestion or a warning. “You’re the only family they have left. You made some bad decisions, but you didn’t hurt them on purpose. The only person punishing you for your sins is you.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Mateo barked out a sardonic laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself on your sister’s account.”

  Hold on a damn minute.

  Sister?

  My mind spun a hundred miles an hour as bits and pieces of an earlier conversation clicked into place.

  “You know he had an estranged sister, right? Well, about six months ago, she came back into town. Not long after that, he started missing court dates and got into some seriously deep shit…I mean, hot water with the Carreras.”

  “The cartel?”

  “Shocking, right? Unfortunately, one thing led to another, and she died, and then his mother got arrested.”

  Oh, hell no.

  My days of being left in the dark were over. With fire shooting through my veins, I hobbled around the corner. “I thought your sister was dead?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adriana

  Both men turned at the sound of my voice. Mateo faced the wall where I’d just been eavesdropping, his palm braced next to an impressive dent. Brody leaned against the opposite wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, the vibrant green in his hazel eyes all but swallowed by a lifeless brown. However, once they landed on me, a rough smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  Mateo, not so much.

  “Don’t you know how to knock?” he growled.

  I glared at him. “Don’t you know how to close a door?”

  “Calm down, Mateo. It’s fine.”

  “It’s fine?” Mateo pushed off the wall, his hands fisting by his side. “I’m sorry, have you forgotten she blackmailed you into betraying Val by having Leighton stalked?”

  Brody shot him a pointed look. “No, I haven’t forgotten.” Both men stared at each other, their restraint razor thin. However, instead of volleying another insult back to Mateo, Brody shifted his attention back to me. “As far as the US government knows, my sister and niece are missing and presumed dead. Before I left the DA’s office, I faked passports for both of them so Mateo could get them out of the country.”

  “Why?”

  “With the mess my mother’s arrest made, it was the only way to ensure their safety and privacy.”

  “You haven’t seen them since they left?”

  “No,” he admitted. Pushing his shoulders back, he tossed a heated look Mateo’s way. “And contrary to popular opinion, it should stay that way.”

  My brows knitted together. “Huh.”

  “What does ‘huh’ mean?”

  “Nothing. Just that the US has this huge intelligence cooperative, and all this time the two people they’ve been looking for have been—”

  Mateo came off the wall like he’d been shot out of a cannon. “Stay away from my wife and daughter. You got that?”

  To be honest, I forgot he was even in the room.

  “Wow, the nice guy routine doesn’t last long, does it?”

  Antagonizing my new brother’s foot soldier probably wasn’t the smartest move, but the guy acted like I planned to toss his family into a bonfire and watch them burn.

  He shoved his finger in my face. “Look, you bit—”

  One minute, the Carrera underboss stood inches away from wrapping a hand around my throat, and the next he sailed across the room like a frisbee, creating a second dent into the wall not far from the first.

  “That’s enough!” Brody growled. “Do I need to remind you that Adriana is a Carrera? She’s Val’s sister, which means you’ll treat her with the same respect you would any member of this family.”

  Being thrown like a human lawn dart by his inferior didn’t seem to faze Mateo. Instead of coming barreling back, he tugged a hand through his long hair and gritted his teeth so hard I heard his teeth clack together. “She hasn’t earned it.”

  “It’s not your call to make, is it?”

  I’d witnessed brutal murders that didn’t fill a room with as much tension as the stares those two men passed back and forth. I almost felt guilty for stirring the pot of whatever friction boiled between them.

  Almost.

  Without another word, Mateo turned away, slamming his hand into the wall on the way out.

  Three dents.

  What fascination did Carrera men have with destroying drywall?

  Flopping down on the bed, I leaned back on my hands. “That guy needs to lighten up, or he’s going to have a stroke before he’s thirty.”

  I glanced at Brody discreetly out of the corner of my eye as he fumbled around in his suitcase. Finally, his head popped up, and with his toothbrush in one hand and a bottle of shampoo in the other, he disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. I wasn’t sure whether it was to unpack or get away from me, and the fact I even cared irritated me.

  “Back off, Adriana,” he called out over the sound of running water.

  I sat up. Surely, he wasn’t taking a shower now. I twisted my fingers around the bedspread, battling the urge to go in and see for myself. A battle I almost lost until he poked his blond head around the corner.

  “Just because I defended you doesn’t mean I don’t agree with him. Stay away from my sister and my niece, and this will go a lot smoother.”

  I winced. For reasons I didn’t care to explore, Brody standing up for me felt good. Maybe because for a second, I actually let myself believe what he said was true.

  I quickly turned my back to him. “Does this have anything to do with San Marcos?”

  “I’m not discussing this with you.”

  I sighed. I’d let it go for now. “Okay, then tell me why you defended me. You don’t even like me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I also don’t like exclusion. I know what it’s like to be the outsider. The top layer of the Carrera empire is like a tightly-woven shield—tied together and almost impossible to get through. I may not trust you, but I hate seeing someone bounced off it without being given a chance.”

  “If you don’t trust me, why did you tell me about your sister?”

  “I don’t know. I have no basis for it, considering what you’ve threatened me with so far. But something tells me you draw the line at hurting children.”

  A sharp pain tore through my chest, and it wasn’t until I glanced down that I realized it came from my own nails.

  “Adriana?”

  I slowly turned around, expecting to see his messy blond hair still peeking out from behind the bathroom door. But it wasn’t. It was right in front of me, connected to a bare chest leading to trousers popped open at the button. And leading right to that button was a trail of blond hair that disappeared where his zipper started. A zipper playing referee between two prominent slopes that formed a perfect V cutting sharply down to his groin.

  I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. I grew up cartel. Every male I’d ever known looked the part—Latino and rough with slivers of bronze skin peeking through a litany of colorful tattoos. Tattoos that meant they’d met certain standards in a life of power, murder, and crime.

  But Brody Harcourt was nothing like them.

  He was a privileged gringo whose sun-kissed white skin stretched over every taut muscle in his chest. Deep lines defined his pecs and abs, the toned peaks and valleys rolling over a deceptive blank slate. Unstained by ink. A fresh canvas for the sin that dwelled within him.

  The perfect contradiction of deceptive boy next door and soulless viper.

  “Adriana?”

  Blinking, I realized he’d called my name again. “I’m sorry, what?”

  The bed dipped as he knelt in front of me and gently pulled my hand away from my chest. “You looked like you were trying to claw your heart out of your chest.”

  I was.

  His fingers traced the
red marks I’d left on my skin, and I flinched. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when I mentioned you’d draw the line at hurting children, you went somewhere else.”

  I couldn’t think while he was touching me, so I scooted backward until his hand fell away. “I may have done a lot of things. But I never have, nor will I ever, hurt a child. They’re the only innocent thing in this world. Nothing that happens to them is their fault. Sometimes…” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sometimes even the people they grow up to be isn’t their fault.”

  Brody was silent for a minute, and I thought I’d said too much until he shifted closer. I didn’t move. I didn’t even blink until he lifted his hand and reached for me. All the breath left my lungs in one hard exhale, but instead of returning to my chest, his fingertips brushed the scar on my neck.

  “No one has ever really seen you, have they, Adriana?”

  I shook my head because speaking the words would’ve been too intimate. This was the man who uprooted my life and destroyed my future, then tried to stain the only name I had left with false accusations. I hated him, and once I was accepted into this family, I planned to return the favor.

  So why did I want his lips on me more than I wanted my next breath?

  “I see you.”

  “Don’t…” I shook my head, trying to pull away, but his long fingers curled around the back of my neck, holding me in place.

  “You fight dirty, Carrera. You want everyone to think you’re this heartless bitch who’ll eviscerate anyone to get what she wants, but that’s a role you play just to get noticed.”

  “Stop.”

  “You dominate and exploit your enemy’s weakness because that’s the only way you know how to feel wanted.”

  The air felt heavy, clogged with tension so thick I could taste it. As much as I wanted to throw every vile and hateful word I knew at him, the self-assured stare in his darkened eyes held me hostage, crashing through my barriers and holding me immobile.

  He was right. He did see me. He saw right through me to the core of something I couldn’t rationalize, and it both infuriated and calmed me.

  Why him?

  Why did the man who ruined me, understand me?

  My chest rose and fell in arduous waves as his hand slid up my neck. It was pure torture, a disturbing sensuality that resonated within the darkest depths of my soul.

  Up my throat. Across my chin. Brushing my cheek.

  I shivered the moment his hand dove into my hair, his fingers tightening to the perfect amount of pain.

  “There are better ways to feel wanted, princesa.” The deep timbre of his voice was rough. Low and controlled, yet still hinging on the brink of destruction.

  It was me he’d destroy, and God help me, I wanted it.

  “Adriana,” he whispered my name again, and it sounded like a wicked prayer. He was breathing so hard my hair fanned across my face. This was wrong. So wrong. But I craved more, hating myself for it, but unable to stop.

  Until the door slammed and the perfectly fucked-up bubble we crawled into burst.

  “Well, I sure as hell didn’t expect this.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adriana

  I had no idea who moved first. All I knew was that Brody and I sprang apart like two ends of a snapped rubber band. The fire that moments ago had my blood boiling extinguished, leaving nothing but withering smoke.

  I knew who was there without turning around.

  Brody’s eyes widened as he stared over my shoulder. All the color drained from his face, a sudden discord etched across it. Like he’d suddenly found himself trapped between two worlds without any means of escape. Maybe it stemmed from coming face-to-face with the living embodiment of torture. Either way, the sadistic craving that almost seduced me into trading vindication for gratification faded leaving only a bruised ego and a renewed will.

  “Eden…” Brody murmured her name with such reverence I twisted my fingers together to stop myself from putting a fourth dent in the wall. “We, uh…I didn’t know you were back.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “Obviously,” she quipped.

  I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.

  Brody raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not what it looks like. I mean, this isn’t…we aren’t…”

  “Fucking,” I finished for him. Spinning around, I flashed her a wicked smile. “Well, not anymore, thanks to you. You’ll cockblock him until the day he dies, huh, Lachey?”

  “Adriana!”

  Yeah, that might have taken it a bit too far, but damn, it felt good, and even he had to admit she had it coming.

  Twisting around, I met his narrowed eyes. “What?”

  “Be nice!”

  “Give me one good reason.”

  “Because we’re guests in Eden’s house, that’s why.” Lowering his voice, he hissed a warning through a forced smile. “And because Val values her opinion.” Turning his attention back to Eden, his whole demeanor changed. “Seriously, we were just talking.”

  I was pissed. Partly because of his slingshot attitude, but more so because I hated that he was right. I was caught between wanting to see Saint Eden suffer for her sins and needing her approval in order to win Val’s.

  It was like teetering on the edge of a cliff with my only options being to jump off or face a hungry pack of wolves. Either choice ended in sacrifice. Whether it would be a sacrifice of pride, blood, or my life remained to be seen. I had no doubt the wolf at the door right now wanted all three.

  Cocking her hip, Eden leaned against the doorframe, flipping her unnatural cherry red hair over her shoulder. “You know Adriana, you’d think you could scrape together a little gratitude that I opened my house to you, considering you ordered a hit on my brother.”

  “And you put a bullet in mine. I’d say we’re even.”

  “Even?” She threw her head back and let out a laugh so ridiculously loud it echoed down the hallway. “Your brother held a gun to my head then shot Val. What I did was self-defense. What you did was premeditated and heartless. My brother was an innocent pawn in your sick game.”

  “So were you, yet here you are.”

  A flush crawled up her neck, painting her face the color of her fake-ass hair. “You bitch…”

  I yawned, patting my mouth for a dramatic flair. “Try again. I’ve already heard that one today.”

  I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye moments before Brody stepped in between us, arms stretched wide like some kind of bitch war referee. “All right, that’s enough.”

  The insult was right there on Eden’s lips. I saw it. I waited on it, but her eyes darted toward Brody, and much to my dismay, it died. Sighing, she gave him a weak smile which quickly faded as her eyes trailed back to me. “I’m watching you, Marisol.”

  Resting my chin in the palm of my hand, I tapped my index finger against my bottom lip. “Adriana.”

  “We’ll see. You may’ve been born a Carrera, but you haven’t earned the right to call yourself one. My husband wants to give you a chance, so for him, I’ve allowed you in my home.”

  Leaning back on one hand, I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “Don’t break your back rolling out the welcome mat.”

  “Ladies!” Brody groaned. “Can we take this down a few notches? You’re not going to be best friends; we get it. Will you at least agree to be civil and try not to kill each other for the next twelve hours?”

  Obviously, I had no intention of falling on my sword first, so I settled a hard stare toward the doorway and waited. The silence was deafening, and the longer it went on the more agitated Brody became. We were clearly taking too long to answer, evidenced by his clenched fists and the gaze that bounced angrily between us. Just as he opened his mouth again, Eden cut him off.

  “Fine.”

  Twisting around, he cocked an expectant eyebrow at me.

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Adriana…
”

  God, I hated it when he drew out my name like that. It made me feel like a petulant child. “Oh, all right. I’ll pretend to be nice to the bitch.”

  Brody threw his head back, exhaling hard as he stared at the ceiling.

  “Starting now,” I grumbled.

  I expected more arguing, but to my surprise, Eden let it drop. It was just as well. I’d only been here a little over an hour and I’d already provoked everyone in the house. Not exactly the best first impression. I had to find a way to keep my resentment compartmentalized if I hoped to have a chance of becoming a permanent fixture in the Carrera family.

  “It’s good to see you again, Brody.” She took six steps inside the room and stood in front of him, placing a hand against his chest. I knew. I counted them. “You know you’re welcome here any time.”

  Brody flinched at the contact. “I wish that were true.”

  I wanted to grab her hand and twist it until it snapped.

  I tensed at the bizarre surge of jealousy. Angry at my unwelcome reaction, I tore my eyes away, only to glance down and see my hand once again fisting the bedspread.

  Get a grip.

  Disgusted with myself, I released the material and swung my legs around until I faced the wall. Being alone in the room I knew belonged to my mother was the last thing I wanted to do, but it beat the hell out of watching whatever this was. However, just as I was about to make my exit, a faint but shrill cry filled the room.

  Eden smiled. “That’s my cue. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Giving him one last pat on his chest, she took a few steps backward. “Well, then, I’ll see you both at dinner.”

  “She means la comida,” I interrupted, irritated at the way she bastardized my culture. Two sets of eyes turned my way, and I snorted. “It’s like your version of dinner only we have it in late afternoon. Americans are the only gluttons who stuff themselves like pigs right before bed.”