Carlos: A Zambrano Family Novel
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Carlos
A Zambrano Family Novel
Olivia Deici
Miami Mafia Series
Copyright © 2019 by Olivia Deici
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, locations, or any other similarities, is purely coincidental.
The cover design for this ebook, as well as the Zambrano tattoo design, are original creations and works designed by the author, and may not be used, reproduced, displayed, adapted, changed, etcetera, without the written permission of the author. The author reserves all rights. Credit and acknowledgement is given to the photographers at 123rf.com for the stock photos used in the ebook cover.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Before you read this book…
Prologue
Cari
Carlos
Cari
1. Carlos
2. Carlos
3. Cari
4. Carlos
5. Cari
6. Carlos
7. Cari
8. Cari
9. Carlos
10. Carlos
11. Carlos
12. Carlos
13. Cari
14. Carlos
15. Carlos
16. Cari
17. Carlos
18. Cari
19. Cari
20. Carlos
21. Cari
22. Carlos
23. Cari
24. Carlos
25. Cari
26. Carlos
27. Cari
28. Cari
29. Carlos
30. Cari
31. Izzy
32. Cari
33. Carlos
34. Carlos
35. Cari
36. Carlos
37. Cari
38. Cari
39. Cari
40. Carlos
41. Carlos
42. Cari
43. Cari
44. Cari
45. Carlos
46. Cari
47. Carlos
48. Cari
49. Carlos
50. Cari
51. Carlos
52. Cari
53. Carlos
54. Cari
55. Carlos
56. Carlos
57. Cari
58. Cari
59. Carlos
60. Carlos
61. Cari:
62. Carlos
63. Cari
64. Cari
65. Carlos
66. Persons Unknown
67. Carlos
Reviews
Zambrano Family Tree
Glossary
About the Author
Also by Olivia Deici
Excerpt from Roman
Roman
Roman
Dedication
Thank you to my family and friends for being supportive of me while writing Carlos- it’s been a long process. Thank you to my loyal readers who have literally waited forever for this book.
A special thank you and encouragement to those who, like Cari, feel broken.
May you find the happiness she has.
Before you read this book…
As you read Carlos, you’ll see links to music. I love all types of music and enjoy being exposed to new songs and groups by looking them up when one is mentioned in a book. Of course, I make no claims to any ownership of the music or creativity behind those fabulous works of art. That music is the sole property of that musician and/or label. To make things simpler for my readers so that you don’t have to go to a search engine with each mentioning of a song, I have hyperlinked most songs, which are all found on the World Wide Web for the public to access, listen to, and view. Just click on the link if you’d like to hear the song and see the video. If you prefer not to, do not click on the links. And hey, maybe you’ll like a new singer or group you’ve never heard of before now! I hope you enjoy this feature.
Prologue
Cari
Dancing With A Stranger,
Normani & Sam Smith
“Another Cape Cod, extra lime.”
“Cranberry and vodka, such a lady’s drink. Extra lime? Like things sour and tart, don’t you? What about salty? You like that, too?”
What the fuck?
Like I needed this shit now.
And I knew what he was insinuating with the salty remark.
Treatment for one of my favorite patients wasn’t working. It was more than just not working- she was going to die and no matter what I tried, nothing was going to save her.
This type of scenario always triggered me.
My success rate was high, but that didn't matter when one of my patients wasn't getting better. I had a tendency to forget my successes, and get sad and self-deprecating when this happened-
In a downward spiral, where I found myself now.
And apparently, this prick wanted to join my pity party for one.
He wasn't invited.
I vaguely wondered if this was the same douche Iza told me about at Cielo. Did he make the rounds at bars armed with shitty one-liners irritating single women?
The bartender slid the drink in front of me as I braved looking up.
I was at Oasis, a five-star hotel with an awesome bar- or so I was told- and a great dance floor.
As I turned to see who was delivering such stupid pick-up lines, my eyes caught on a man across the bar.
Fuck. Me.
And he was staring right at me.
The blue of his eyes was electric. Even from this distance I could feel their heat.
It was scorching me.
And I wanted to be scorched.
By this man.
His dark hair was stylish and his lips were deliciously full. He was clean-shaven with smooth tanned skin. His shoulders were broad and he looked super muscular.
My head kept turning until I met the Intruder.
He'd crashed my wine and whine alone time.
“Original, I'll give you that. But seriously, that's the best you can come up with? Sour and tart? Salty? And if I wanted to have a ‘lady’s drink’, I’d order a rosé or sangria.”
I signaled the bartender for a shot of tequila before I tackled my second Cape Cod.
I was going to need it to get extra nasty with this idiot who’d waltzed uninvited into my solo girl’s night out.
I literally slammed back the tequila shot, and the idiot laughed.
“Damn, princesa. Hardcore. I’d like to see just how hardcore you can be.”
I couldn't find the internal stability to roll my eyes. I was afraid the room would spin and I'd fall off my barstool.
I wish Izzy was here. She’d always shut these fuckers down.
I rarely drank like this but tonight- I fucking wanted the burn of liquor.
I hoped the burn down my esophagus out-hurt the pain in my soul.
I raised my eyes only to meet Mr. Electric Blue’s again.
He was staring at me, serious and heated. His eyes didn't waiver except to dip down to my boobs and back to my eyes.
Fuck, he was intense.
And I wasn't offended by his blatant perusal like I usually am. From him, it was hot.
After a minute, I found my inner sense of gravity
and managed to roll my eyes at the Intruder. Iza and I had perfected our eye rolls as med students.
I saw Mr. Electric Blue crack a smile.
“Did you just seriously ask me that? What gives you the right to talk to me like that? You think that's supposed to turn me on? Make me interested in getting you out of your two-dollar suit?”
I turned forward and sipped my Cape Cod. He was ruining my night, and now he was going to give me that disrespectful line?
Don't think so.
“Oooh, oooh, I see. Gold-digger, are you? I should've known.”
I chugged my fucking drink and slammed the glass on the bar. As I turned again towards the Intruder, I registered Mr. Electric Blue smirking. My lips picked up at one side for a second before meeting the irritated gaze of the Intruder.
“You're judging me? I was sitting here alone before you thought you were good enough to come to me and waste my time with your shitty one-liners, to what? Go for a one-night stand? You think you're so funny, fine, and fabulous that you can pick me up? I don't need your fucking money, not that your suit screams it anyway. Your dick is probably just as disappointing as your bank account.”
I snorted, going in for the kill.
“You're not worth a second of my time. I'm way out of your league. Take your stupid crap-tastic pick-up lines to a bimbo who’ll fall for your shit. It's certainly not going to be me.”
His face reddened and it was superb. My insult deepened when I smiled at him.
“Well aren't you a bitch?”
I snickered. “Like you're a prize. And since it seems I’ve overestimated your intelligence in being able to infer that I'm not into you by my previous insult, let me simplify it for your little mind. Fuck off.”
He sneered at me.
“I hope you get an STD, you fucking cunt.”
“And yet another reason why I won't be sleeping with you. My cunt wishes to remain STD-free.”
“Whore.”
“And yet here you remain standing. Seems to me that it's better to be a cunt than an a clueless, STD-carrying, prick.”
I turned forward and signaled the bartender. Another tequila.
If I was going down tonight, I was going down hard.
Intruder grunted but finally I'd succeeded in repelling him like the irritating mosquito he was.
Maybe I should've just called Iza and used her shoulder. She was in a good place now though, having made up with Roman.
I didn't want to ruin her happiness with my unhappiness.
Suddenly, a third Cape Cod appeared in front of me.
“I didn't order this.”
The bartender smiled. “The gentleman over there did.”
I raised confused eyes and made contact with Mr. Electric Blue. His eyes remained as intense as I’d ever seen eyes, but his lips wore a sexy smirk. He threw back whatever he was drinking and pushed away from the bar.
Oh my fucking shit, he was coming my way.
What the fuck was I going to do? To say?
Yea, sure, I'd been approached and hit on by men at bars but never by ones that I found sexy as hell.
This man had a powerful predatory vibe about him. He didn't just walk. He prowled like a mountain cat. I imagined that if he were naked, you'd see all of his muscles engaged with every step.
The crowd dove out of his way. His steps didn't hesitate.
He was a man certain of his own power.
My gaze turned back to the bar as I grabbed my phone to check Uber and Lyft.
I'd drank way too much tonight.
I placed my credit card and license on the bar.
“I won't waste your time with some moronic pick-up line like that imbecile did.”
I laughed, taking a sip of my drink. My head was swimming a bit, but I was fully aware and in control. I wasn't a lightweight when it came to holding my liquor.
“You're only partially right. Pick-up linessss, as in multiple, and they were horrible.”
“Very. And a total rude motherfucker. I would've intervened and shoved his face into the bar, but you had him under control. And…let's just say it was a funny interaction to witness.”
I finally managed to turn and look at him.
Fuck. Me.
My eyes were looking at the buttons of his shirt. I was not a short woman. I was 5’8, and with heels, taller still.
But he was enormous. My eyes climbed to the bit of throat and chest exposed from the three buttons he'd undone and good lord, that man had a sexy neck.
With tats.
Still, my eyes continued their trek upwards until they met the most beautiful, vivid blue eyes I’d ever seen.
Now I knew why Iza drooled over Roman’s eyes. I'd only spoken to Roman a few times, but his eyes didn't hold a candle to this man’s.
“Witness? You were too far away to hear.”
“I can read lips. And it was a pleasure reading yours.”
I laughed.
“I thought you didn't do cheesy pick-up lines.”
“No. I do the truth. And you have the sexiest damn lips.”
I shook my head, picking up and waving my cards so the bartender could process my tab and I could leave.
Fast.
I noticed him looking at my cards a few times. The way the cards had been on the bar had only made my license number show.
“Good. Glad there's no underage drinking.”
Now that deserved a quick look up at him again.
“Seriously?”
There was that smirk again.
“I don't condone underage drinking.”
“Do I look twenty years old to you?”
He pursed his lips. “Is this a trick question? Because, yes, you do look young, and yes, you’re damn hot. But if I answer “yes”, I'm clearly exaggerating to spare an ego, and if I say ‘no’, I'm insulting a woman by inadvertently commenting on her age.”
“Never realized the conundrum men faced daily. My apologies.”
I took a sip of my drink before trying to get the bartender’s attention again.
“Damn. A woman after my own heart. She not only can hold her liquor, but speak in polysyllabic words even after throwing back a few.”
I genuinely laughed.
“I covered the tab. You can put your cards away.”
I began placing them back in my purse. “Well, thank you. But weren't you just worried I was underage?”
He shook his head. “I saw your birth year in your license number. You've been drinking two years longer than I have.” His lips twisted. “Well, legally, anyway.”
I almost choked on my drink. “You're younger than I am?”
He smiled.
Damn. He had dimples.
“Does it bother you? I like older women.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“Thank you for the drinks, it's been fun. I have to go, though.”
“Why don't I walk you to the elevator?”
I arched an eyebrow at him and he held his hands up.
“No need to be wary. I've never needed substances or force to have my way with women. Just being a gentleman.”
I studied him for a minute more.
“Alright. I'll request a Lyft or Uber once I'm outside.”
He nodded and helped me off my bar seat. If I thought he was big before, it was nothing now that we were standing. I only reached his pecs.
I had three-inch heels on.
We walked towards the elevators.
“This is a beautiful hotel. Good service at the bar.”
“First time here?”
I nodded. “Recommended by a friend.”
“I know the owner. I'll let him know what you think of one of his pride and joys. Hard day?”
Nodding, we reached the elevator. He touched the button, summoning the lift.
“Yea. Hard day. I don't normally drink my sorrows, but I allowed myself to, tonight.”
I looked up at him and his magnetic gaze was on me. Goosebumps ran across my body as
I swallowed.
I'd loosened up tonight and had drinks, something I don't normally do because in my profession as an oncologist, I'd end up becoming an alcoholic as I drank my emotions away.
We stepped into the elevator and I backed up to the back wall, trying to breathe through the pull he exerted on me.
I wasn't going to lie.
I wanted this man.
I'd never had sex outside of a relationship. None of my relationships had ever been deep enough to get us over the first year hurdle, either.
Still, I'd never just had casual sex.
When he stepped in after me and faced me as my back touched the back wall, his eyes ensnared mine again.
And this was why you shouldn't drink. I'd lowered my standards by allowing myself to drink on an emotionally-charged day.
And now the alcohol working itself through my system was making my brain hallucinate all the things I wanted to do to this man.
And everything I wanted him to do to me.
And it was making excuses as to why it was ok.