The Carrera Cartel : A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Cora Kenborn

  I waved my hand. “No, you don’t.” We’d had six weeks of peace. There was no need to open up old wounds for words that weren’t needed.

  Eden sighed, sinking onto my bed. “Adriana, we have more in common than I wanted to admit. We both had rough childhoods where we had to grow up too fast and rely on ourselves to survive. I didn’t have a real family.” She ran her hand over Santi’s dark hair. “Nash was all I had and after he died, well, Val and Santi, they’re my whole world. You scared me, and when I’m scared, I lash out. I can’t apologize for protecting them because I’d do it again. But I will apologize for not trusting my husband’s judgment.”

  “Eden, it’s okay.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Please let me get this out.” Pressing her lips together, she took a deep breath. “You had my brother murdered, and I killed yours. I can hate you for it, but Nash wouldn’t want that. In fact, I think he’d be pretty ashamed of me right now. My big brother was my hero, Adriana. He was the best man I knew, and the only one who saw the good in me when everyone else put me down. He always said, ‘Edie, people do bad things, but it doesn’t make them bad people. What makes them bad is when they fail to forgive.’” Her voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Santiago Nash Carrera is named after my brother, and I want him to grow up being as proud of his mom as I hope his uncle would’ve been. That’s why…” Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “That’s why I forgive you.”

  Before I knew what I was doing, I flung my arms around her. Startled at first, she soon leaned into it, pressing her cheek against my shoulder. After a few awkward moments, we pulled apart, both of us wiping our eyes, looking anywhere but at each other.

  “Well,” I said, glancing toward the open door, “I should probably go downstairs. Brody will be here any minute.”

  “Adriana, wait.” She grabbed my arm, a genuine smile pulling across her mouth as she glanced down at the wiggling baby in her arms. “Santi, it’s time you officially meet your Aunt Adriana.” Scooping him up, she held him out to me, and I waved both hands, backing up like he was a ticking bomb.

  “Oh, no, I can’t…”

  Her grin widened. “Come on. Consider it practice.”

  I didn’t have time for another protest. Eden stood up and dumped him in my arms. It was either take him or drop him. Paranoid, I tugged him against my chest, looking down at the little boy I risked everything for.

  “Hola.”

  It was all I could think to say. One word that meant nothing, but then again, sometimes everything could be said without saying anything at all.

  Kind of like a kiss.

  Val stood at the bottom of the stairs outside the estate, shuffling from foot to foot as Brody grinned and kissed my cheek. “I’ll wait near the car and give you two a minute.”

  I nodded, watching him walk away as Val scratched the back of his head. “You’ll be back for Santi’s baptism, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “You sure you’re okay to fly? You can rest here for a few days.”

  “Val, It’s been six weeks. I’m fine. Stop being a big brother.”

  He chuckled. “Give me a break, I’ve got twenty-four years to catch up on.” An awkward silence passed between us again, and he took a step toward me, his expression turning serious. “Thanks for saving my son.”

  “Thanks for the kidney.”

  “Yeah well, don’t expect another one.”

  It was my turn to chuckle. If anyone had told me two months ago that I would’ve risked my life to save a Carrera, or anyone but myself for that matter, I would’ve laughed in their face. That definitely wasn’t the person I was raised to be. Self-sacrifice was for the weak and the stupid. I thought the only way to survive was to ensure others didn’t.

  Then Brody Harcourt turned my life upside down, and it would never right itself.

  I never wanted it to.

  I’d learned to love. I learned to be loved.

  I learned to forgive. I learned to be forgiven.

  On instinct, my eyes found him, his gaze already locked on me. Those green and brown swirls that commanded such passion saw me like no other.

  Val stepped beside me. “Keep that one in line.”

  I glanced up to see his eyes focused on Brody, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “Not a chance,” I shot back with a wink.

  “Hey, Adriana?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I…” He scratched his chin, whatever he was going to say lost as the cartel boss pushed the big brother to the back of the line. “Don’t go soft on me just because you’re in love and shit.”

  Sometimes I really liked the cartel boss a lot more. But I’d never tell my brother that.

  “Not a chance. Haven’t you heard? I’m a Carrera.”

  Epilogue

  Adriana

  Houston, Texas

  One Year Later

  They say life comes full circle to a place of meaning just to show you how much you’ve grown. I remembered thinking everything that was wrong in my life started the moment I walked into Caliente Cantina, and it would end there.

  It did.

  I just didn’t know at the end I’d find a new beginning.

  “Hey, princesa, this beer ain’t gonna refill itself.”

  I rolled my eyes at the old man sitting on the barstool, twirling his empty beer mug on his finger with a shit-eating grin. Hanging the last cocktail glass, I stepped off the overturned crate and kicked it out of my way. “How many times have I told you, Frankie?” I said, snatching it off his finger before it shattered. “My name is Adriana.”

  “Yeah, but that blond guy calls you princesa,” he slurred, waving a hand around the empty bar.

  “That blond guy owns this place, including that stool you sit on every day. He can call me anything he wants.” Tilting a clean mug under the tap, I filled it to the top and slid it into his waiting hands. “You, my friend, cannot. And that…” I pointed to the glass already at his lips. “…is your last one. You’re cut off.”

  Who knew filling bar bitch’s shoes would’ve been so daunting? While slinging drinks wasn’t exactly the best use of my particular skill set, as co-owner of Caliente, I had no choice. At least not until I could find someone with half a brain who could mix a decent drink and keep her mouth shut.

  Not an easy task.

  Frankie let out a groan. “Aw, c’mon, it’s only two o’clock in the morning. It’s early.”

  I glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, and that’s why I’m calling you a cab.”

  “Fine, man, you’ve sucked all the fun outta this place. Blond guy needs to bring back blonde bartender.”

  Bending over, I reached under the bar for my phone to call him a cab. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve got a better ass.”

  My phone clattered to the floor as I felt his palm smack against my butt. Letting out a growl, I stood, ready to remind him where the hell he was, when a dangerously low, rough voice rumbled behind me.

  “Franklin, you’re a good customer, so I’m going to give you two seconds to get your hand off my girlfriend’s ass before I shoot it off.”

  Frankie’s eyes widened, and he flung himself back into his seat, raising both hands in surrender. “Hey, just because I admire the car doesn’t mean I want to drive it, man.”

  I coughed into my fist, trying as best I could to cover my laugh as footsteps pounded across the floor, the scent of sage clouding around me.

  Just sage. No longer scotch because Brody hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since my surgery.

  I turned to see the man I’d lived with for over a year standing on the other side of the bar, his arms spread wide with his palms flat against the wood. Intense hazel eyes held mine without remorse, and I curved my lips in a private smile.

  I couldn’t help but stare. He still took my breath away every time I saw him. The dark sin
he exuded crossed all kinds of wires in my head. He was more dominant, and the ruthless control he held in just a passing glance brought me to my knees.

  I nodded. “Counselor.”

  Heat flared in his eyes. “Princesa.”

  Crossing to the other side to meet him, I placed my palms in the same position, our fingers touching. “Be nice.”

  A patch of unruly blond hair dipped over his eyebrow as he slid a hand around the back of my neck, drawing me to him. “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” My stomach flipped at the command in his voice, and even though a handful of patrons were scattered around the bar, it felt as if we were the only two in the place.

  “You know, this benevolent leaf you’ve turned over seems to only be geared toward men.” He nodded at Frankie, who now swayed so hard in his seat, I wasn’t entirely sure both he and the stool weren’t about to hit the floor. “I thought women were all about equality?”

  “Are you saying I’m gender biased?”

  “I’m saying maybe I preferred the vindictive bitch over the insatiable flirt.”

  “Don’t pout, counselor,” I laughed, ignoring his penetrating stare. “I’ll show you later how I can be both.” Leaning farther across the bar, I pressed my lips to his for a tempting kiss. One meant to serve as a promise for things to come.

  But Brody had other ideas.

  Cradling my face, he turned tempting into torrid. There was no prelude. No gentle nip or taste. He demanded entrance, and I surrendered. Our tongues clashed with an urgency distance had denied us. It was warm, desperate, and hungry. With a final bite to my bottom lip, he pulled back with a satisfied smirk.

  I let out an unsteady breath. “You’re wound up today.”

  “You’re damn right,” he groaned, dropping his bag on the floor. “Between me being in New York, and you going back and forth to Chicago, we’ve hardly seen each other.”

  I barely held in my own groan. He wasn’t kidding. The last three months had been hell. We’d been two proverbial ships passing in the night. Brody established an alliance with the Italians for New York port access and had been busy solidifying distribution channels while I spent my time building a rapport with Cristiano’s grandfather in Chicago.

  I still held out hope I’d be able to mend that bridge between them. Cris said it was a lost cause, but I didn’t give up so easily.

  “Are you feeling neglected?” I grinned, running the pad of my thumb over the scruff on his chin.

  Brody grabbed my wrist and dragged it toward his mouth, his tongue tracing my pulse. “Don’t test me, princesa. I haven’t touched you in over a week. Don’t think I won’t throw you on that bar and give Frankie something to really stare at.”

  “I ain’t lookin’ at nothin’,” Frankie slurred behind me.

  I chuckled. Brody’s possessiveness was one of the things I loved most about him. I accused him once of smothering women, but it was just the opposite. He made me feel secure in a domineering yet endearing way.

  He threw me over his shoulder but always made sure I landed on my feet.

  I cupped his cheek. “This bar could be filled with men, and I wouldn’t see anyone but you. You’re all I need for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

  I let out a squeal as Brody grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up and over the bar. My feet barely hit the floor before he spun me around and guided me to a barstool near the end of the bar.

  “What the hell are you—” Before I could get the rest of my question out, two strong hands landed on my shoulders and pushed down until I gave up and sank onto the barstool.

  “Do you remember the last time you sat here?”

  “Tuesday?” I smirked.

  He sighed heavily, visible tension in his neck. “No, princesa, this chair.” He tapped his finger against the wood under my ass then slid onto the stool next to me.

  Something about this didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t know what it was until I scanned my eyes down the length of him. It was only then that I noticed what he was wearing, and my smile faltered.

  Black tailored Armani pants. A white button-up starched shirt rolled-up at the sleeves, and a blue tie hanging around his neck. I hadn’t noticed it when he first came in because it had been a long time since he traded luxury and design for leather and denim.

  “Why do you have on a suit? You haven’t worn one in over a year.”

  “I know. Still not ringing a bell, huh? Maybe this will jog your memory.” I was still confused when he stood on the bottom rung of the stool and leaned over the bar. I watched dumfounded as he poured a beer and a shot of tequila. After placing the beer in front of himself and the shot glass in front of me, he tugged his tie off his neck and tossed it onto the bar.

  None of this made sense. He knew I didn’t drink, and as far as I knew, he’d quit.

  “Brody, I have no idea—”

  “Wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “Your line is, ‘bad day,’ and then you’re supposed to push your tequila to the side and point out my tie.”

  He’d lost his mind. However, he had that look on his face. The one he got right before he blew someone’s head off. So, regardless of how much I questioned his sanity, I complied.

  “Bad day?” I asked. Pushing the tequila to the side, I held a perfect smile while nodding toward the discarded tie.

  Brody didn’t bother to look up, while still gripping the hell out of his mug. “Something like that.”

  We sat there for moments of uncomfortable silence as he waited for me to say something else. Something obviously, I was supposed to know by the clench of his jaw and grit of his teeth.

  After what seemed like forever, Brody pierced me with a fiery stare and placed his hand across my forearm. “Want to—”

  My eyes snapped toward the connection. It was such a simple move. An insignificant touch that said everything. It grabbed me by the throat and spun me back in time. Back to when I had nothing to lose.

  Before I’d ever been kissed.

  As if it were yesterday, I knew my next line perfectly. “Want to talk about it?”

  The fire that lit his eyes before blazed even brighter. Turning away, he stared blankly across the bar before lifting the mug to his mouth. “Not particularly.”

  “Well, then can I buy you a drink?”

  “I own the bar, sweetheart.”

  “I get it,” I recited as I shifted toward him and leaned my elbow onto the bar. “I’m just a stranger. What do I know, right? But you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. You obviously need to unload. If not me, there’s got to be someone you can talk to.”

  And just like a year ago, Brody said nothing.

  “Girlfriend?”

  Still nothing.

  I opened my mouth to say the memorable line I hit him with next. The one I remembered set him off on a chain reaction of events that led us here, but he beat me to it.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “What?” I reared back, confused. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say.

  Before I could move from my chair, Brody took my hand, his throat bobbing on a hard swallow. “I’m hoping I have a wife.”

  I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like a team of horses trampled over it, and my heart raced with disbelief. Those words. I couldn’t process those words.

  “Brody—”

  I was caught off guard when one corner of his mouth twitched in a cocky smirk, and he reached forward and pinched my lips shut. “Baby, I know you love to argue, but shut up and let me get this out.”

  I nodded as best I could with his fingers holding my lips in a vice grip.

  He smiled, tilting his chin toward my lap. “This is where it started. When you walked into my bar and sat down on that stool, I hit rock bottom. I didn’t think my life could get any worse.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Hmmfwhhhaa.”

  Which loosely translated meant, watch it.

  Brody let o
ut a low laugh and ran a hand up my cheek. “You came here to destroy me, Adriana, but you ended up saving me. We’re not perfect, and we’ll never be normal, but I don’t think I’d want it any other way. I know I don’t want you any other way. I love your stubborn attitude. I love that you always have to have the last word. I love that you can’t cook, and damn near set the bar on fire.” He grinned. “But mostly, I love you, princesa. I love the sentimental woman, the passionate lover, and the ruthless queen, and I want all three by my side forever.”

  It didn’t matter that he held my lips closed. I wouldn’t have been able to string two words together anyway. All I could do was stare at him as he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a diamond ring.

  “So, what do you say, Adriana Carrera? Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”

  I nodded.

  Partly because he still had my lips clamped shut, but mainly because words failed me. Even the simple three letter one that answered his question. That was the thing about Brody and me—we didn’t need something as trivial as a word to solidify what we felt. We didn’t need ceremonies or vows or huge diamond rings.

  We’d proven our commitment to each other over and over.

  But I sure as hell wouldn’t turn any of those things down.

  Frankie, along with the few patrons in the bar, cheered as Brody whooped and scooped me off the chair, kissing me and spinning me around until we were both delirious and dizzy.

  “Did she say yes? We’re dying over here!”

  As the familiar voice filled the bar, my head shot up, and I glanced over Brody’s shoulder, my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms twisted around his neck. “Is that Eden?”

  Brody just shrugged with an unapologetically guilty grin plastered across his face. I knew that look all too well, so I hoisted myself higher over his shoulder, my gaze landing on the brightly lit cell phone sitting next to his tie.

  I narrowed a gaze at my new fiancé. “Speaker phone, huh? You play a dangerous game, counselor. What if I’d said no?”

  He leaned in close, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Why do you think I pinched your lips shut?”