“Wh-what about a tattoo for me instead?” she asked, hoping he might go for a compromise, though she really didn’t want a tattoo either and as soon as she was away from the branding ceremony she was bailing on that idea too.
Reyes grunted and approached her. Casey jumped back, holding her hand out to him, warding him off, her gorgeous white dress fluttering in the evening breeze. The few people attending their wedding and branding had wandered several feet away and were pretending not to hear the exchange. Except for Alejandro, who was laughing his ass off.
Reyes took her hand and brought it to his lips, caressing the scar lightly. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. In her bare feet, she was shorter than him and able to lay her head against his uninjured shoulder. “It’s won’t hurt, nena, I promise. I will be with you through every step, it won’t be like last time. Our love will carry you through and your strength will ensure you stand tall. Understand, mi amor?”
She nodded and murmured, “I understand.” And she did. Reyes would never let anything happen to her. The only person that was ever allowed to hurt her was her husband and he made it hurt good. Pain at his hands was pleasure.
They’d exchanged their wedding vows on a secluded beach in Peru, secured by their people and surrounded by only their closest friends and family. Casey’s cousin stood between Alejandro and Miguel, looking lovely in a flowing dress that buttoned down her front with Sally Mariana held in her arms, wrapped snuggly in a warm blanket. It had taken very little to convince Gina to come and live with them in Bolivia. Both women had quickly reconnected emotionally, despite the fuzziness of Casey’s memories. The more time she spent with her cousin though, the more they came back to her. Gina utterly adored the baby and was happy to share nanny duties when her cousin was exhausted or needed for work. Gina had become such an important part of their household that Casey was beginning to insist she come with them whenever she needed to travel with the baby as she was still breastfeeding and couldn’t be away from Sally for longer than a day. Casey noticed that Alejandro had absolutely no problem with this arrangement as he was usually travelling with the group.
“Ready, nena?” Reyes asked, pulling her attention back toward him.
Her distracted gaze followed the flexing movement of his hand as he pulled the delicate metal from the heat and lifted it to show her. She tilted her head to the side and gave him a short nod. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking of everything wonderful he’d brought into her life. Reyes had stolen her from Ignacio and then he’d gifted her with freedom, love, vengeance and a family. She would give him this. A mark that would forever be his.
He fisted her long blond hair in his free hand and tilted her head back, then slowly rotated their bodies so they were turned away from their friends. He leaned in and whispered against her ear, “Open your eyes for me, Casey.”
She did. She was facing the sunset. She could see streaks scoring the sky, striking out from the sun and gradually fading across the clouds into the gathering darkness. She wished Reyes could see the beauty in her shades of grey as he wanted her to see the reds, oranges and yellows of his sunset.
“You see the colours?” he asked.
“Si, Reyes, I see them through your eyes,” she told him.
He used her hair to tilt her head to the side and pressed the brand into her neck. She breathed deep, taking the pain into her soul, knowing Reyes had her. Siempre. Forever; the king and his scarred queen.
THE END
Acknowledgments
Dear readers,
From the bottom of my I heart thank you for reading Scarred Queen. This book was an incredible journey for me. During the writing of this novel I experienced some major changes in my life and Scarred Queen allowed me a sanctuary to turn to when I needed a place to lose myself in fantasy. I’ve spent my entire life drifting and losing myself in books, either in reading them or writing them. Now I feel so happy and privileged to be able to share my world of fantasies and love of mafia romance with my amazing readers. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it!
In particular I want to thank Jasmin Quinn for her unfailing and unflinching support whenever I demanded it. She rocks some serious editing skills and didn’t even blink when I threatened to fly out to where she lives and throw down with her Game of Thrones style when she dared to suggest one of my characters might have an immature and unnecessary personality quirk (Slurpees are awesome, end of story!). Jasmin’s second mafia romance novel, Secrets Inside Her, is due to hit shelves in early March! Thank you to Drew from iDrewthis.com for the absolutely stunning cover, teasers and not-so-patient technical assistance he provides.
A big thank you to Sansa for her gorgeous teasers and amazing administrative assistance with my Facebook group, Nikita’s Underworld. To Mia Knight, author of The Crime Lord Series, for making me laugh with her wicked sense of humour and who recognizes a fellow dark comedian. And finally, thank you to the big, wonderful online family of authors, readers and bloggers I’ve discovered over the past several months! So many of you have provided assistance, valuable advice and encouragement when I needed it most.
Yours sincerely,
Nikita
Sneak Peek: Excerpt from Capturing Victory
“Lovely.”
The deep voice echoed through the darkness, penetrating the warmth of her dungeon. She turned, heart beating erratically, knowing it was finally time for her to meet her captor face-to-face.
It had been two days since she’d been taken. She had no idea where she’d been brought. The men had stormed into her tiny, underground place in Portugal and put a bag over her head. They’d hustled her into a car, sped her through the rainy streets and then onto a private aircraft. When she tried to fight and wrestle the bag off her head, a man had wrenched her arms back and ruthlessly zip-tied them. When she’d screamed curses and begged her captors to let her go, the same man had pressed a gun against the side of her head and told her to stop speaking or die. She had chosen silence.
Though she had no idea where she was, she knew who had taken her and why. Katie Pullman’s last call had held a chilling warning. Her voice had screamed out for Source to run. There was only one man connected to Katie with the resources to hunt someone as invisible as XSource. Source had done her best to heed the blond cat burglar’s warning, erasing sensitive files and throwing necessities into a bag at hyper speed.
She hadn’t thought there was any chance Ivan’s people could be so close. He must have a truly stunning amount of resources all over the world to be able to grab her in such a small and insignificant place. There was a reason she’d chosen the small seaside town in Portugal to hang out. It wasn’t for the seafood. The place was gloomy as fuck.
She thought when she arrived at wherever she was that Ivan would confront her and demand she work for him again. At least that’s what she hoped the plan was. Knowing what a cold-blooded bastard Ivan Vogel was, he might have just brought her here to torture and kill her for turning down his incredibly kind offer of employment. Instead, she’d been left alone for two days, imprisoned in some kind of old-fashioned dungeon with stone walls and barred windows while she awaited his arrival. Granted, it was a comfortable dungeon, warm with a large comfortable bed, reading materials and plenty of food. But still…
Now it would seem her captor had arrived. And he was in the mood to inspect his newest acquisition.
“You are a pleasant surprise,” he drawled in flawless English, stepping through the shadows toward her. “I was led to believe you were a man.”
He stopped so close to her she could feel the heat from his body. She had stood up to greet him, not wanting such a predatory man to have any kind of physical advantage. Not that it mattered. He was still almost a foot taller than her. She shuddered as his dark eyes roved hungrily over her, taking in every part of her, despite the shadows. Instinct screamed at her to back away, but pride held her still.
“Of course, had you been
a man, you would be dead,” he said easily, as if he’d been informing her of the time.
She bit her lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to break free. “And why is that?” she asked, attempting to infuse strength into her husky voice. She didn’t speak often, preferring her own company.
His lip lifted in a cold smirk. He was in his early forties with a face that looked like it was sculpted from granite, hard and masculine, with barely any inflection except what he allowed. His body was built out of the same rock as his face, all sharp planes and hard muscles with long, masculine limbs. She’d thought he was a handsome man when she’d seen him at the Athens ball. And now? Now that he held her fragile life in his ruthless hands, she didn’t think so.
“You refused to work for me,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving her face.
“And no one has ever refused you before?” she asked sharply. “I somehow doubt that.”
His brow lifted in surprise, as though reminding her of her precarious position. A small shudder rippled down her back. She needed to remember who she was dealing with and somehow rein in her impulsive tongue. There was a reason she was a hacker. She preferred not to develop the social skills necessary in dealing with the masses. She didn’t like interacting with people or giving them the required responses to their inane conversation.
“No one refuses me for long, little Miss Source,” he drawled her nickname out as though teasing her with it. “And you withheld services from me repeatedly. Refusing my advances, despite my ever more lucrative offers.”
He stepped closer to her as he spoke, purposefully using provocative language. He lifted a finger and ran it over her cheek, testing the softness of her skin. Her eyes flared wide and the breath strangled in her throat. She stumbled back a step, but her legs hit the edge of the bed. He stepped closer, trapping her against the high bed she’d been sleeping on for the last two days.
“P-please,” she whispered, terrified of the giant man. She’d heard so many horrific stories of the international arms dealer over the years. He worked in and out of the shadows. The one story she should have listened to when he first started pursuing her a year ago was that Ivan always got what he wanted. “I’m sorry.”
He looked down at her, lifting his hand again and touching it to her cheek before drifting it down her throat and then her arm. He lifted her hand and brought it to his face, caressing the back with his lips. Her skin was only a few shades darker than his. Her hand looked so small and delicate in his much larger hand. His tongue darted out to touch the back of her fingers.
“You are sorry you didn’t come to work for me?” he asked against her hand, pressing the soft skin against his hard jaw and then rubbing his rough cheek against her. “A little late for apologies, don’t you think?” His sardonic gaze flickered around her prison before settling back on her face.
She could barely breathe, let alone keep her thoughts straight when he touched her like that, yet she knew she had to force her brain to work. This man was brutal, intelligent and deadly. She was way out of her depth and completely alone in the world. There was no one that would miss her if she disappeared forever. Except, perhaps, for her friend that was now in the clutches of the Mexican cartel. She needed to use her head and get out of this with her principles intact.
She raised her chin and said in as clear a voice as she could manage, “No. I don’t work for organizations, only for myself. What I’m sorry about is that you’re the kind of guy that won’t take no for an answer.”
His fingers tightened painfully around hers. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he refused to let her go. His eyes blazed down into hers for a moment and she feared he would just give into the fury and get rid of her. She knew Ivan wasn’t used to denial of any kind. He could buy, bully and steal anything he wanted. He was one of the most powerful men in the world.
Well, he couldn’t have her.
He reached for her so quickly, she thought a blow was coming and cried out. Instead, he sank his hand into her sable hair and jerked her head back until her face tipped up toward his. She gritted her teeth against the pain. His eyes flashed in cruel approval. Her chest lifted and dropped as she breathed rapidly, standing stiffly against her kidnapper.
“What is your name?” he demanded, his cold, dark eyes searching her face as though he could pull the answer from her.
She wouldn’t to give him anything. She would lie to him, give him one of her aliases. She hadn’t said her real name in years, preferring to bury herself under layers of false identities. When the last of her family had died, so had her real identity along with any sense of belonging. She opened her mouth to give him one of her most used names, Pari, but she must have hesitated too long. Or maybe he saw the flash of dishonesty in her eyes.
Suddenly, he seized her by the throat, lifted her off the floor and slammed her down on the bed. The fluffy quilts softened the blow to her back, but he came down heavy on top of her, straddling her flailing limbs. She would have screamed, except he was choking the breath right from her body. His actions were so swift and precise she didn’t stand a chance. He had her arms and legs completely pinned and her throat in a tight grip that she knew would leave bruises later.
Tears rushed to her eyes as she stared up at her cruel captor. He didn’t even look angry that she had been about to lie to him, just slightly irritated, as though he expected it and was put out at having to mete out discipline.
“You don’t want to lie to me,” he said, his deep voice glacial.
A tear escaped from her eye and ran into her hairline. She nodded. She could feel his erection pressing into her belly where he was straddling her. He wasn’t completely unaffected by their little struggle, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. Neither his actions nor his expression indicated he was about to ravish her. Or maybe that was wishful thinking?
He eased his grip on her throat and gave her an expectant look.
She licked her lips and whispered the name she hadn’t spoken in six years, “Jaya.”
Genuine satisfaction suffused his features, giving his angular looks a softer cast. “Victory,” he said.
He didn’t mean that he was victorious over her. Her name meant victory in Hindi. And somehow, he knew that. Though she hated him with every fibre of her being, a small part of her couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Yes,” she whispered.
His eyes cut to hers. “You think you will be victorious, little hacker?”
She glared up at him, hating the way he played with her. She was ill-equipped to deal with a man like him. He was sophisticated, a world traveller. An international criminal and an arms dealer. She might be international in her own way, but she lived in basements and cellars in tiny towns, in places no one ever heard of so she could stay off the radar, hiding from people like this psychotic villain.
“You tell me,” she snapped, arching her back in an attempt to dislodge him. He was so much bigger, all she managed to do was buck her body up into his and show him the curve of her full breasts against her T-shirt. “You’re keeping me in this dungeon for no good reason. Either let me the fuck go or let’s get on with whatever this is! Because I’m telling you right now, I won’t be working for a criminal like you.”
He raised an eyebrow and chuckled at her audacity. She got the feeling it was a gamble with him. Either he would laugh at a person’s hastily spoken words or he would take offence and murder them swiftly and without remorse. He rolled swiftly off the bed, leaving her where she lay. He watched her as he adjusted his clothing, the amusement fading from his face.
A muscle twitched in his jaw as his eyes darkened with something she couldn’t define. “And I’m telling you, little Jaya. I will be keeping you… until I get what I want.”
As his eyes roved over her prone body, she suddenly didn’t think Ivan wanted her hacking services at all anymore. She rolled onto her side and pulled a pillow against her stomach, giving him her back. He clearly didn’t intend to let her go and she didn’t
have anything else to discuss with him.
She waited until he walked away and closed the door to her dungeon before she allowed the tears to fall.
Look for Capturing Victory coming soon in 2018!
Get the latest updates at nikitaslater.com
Bonus: Excerpt from The Assassin’s Wife – Book 1 of Angels & Assassins
Tasha dimmed all of the lights except for one, a spotlight. She smiled, pleased, and glided to the center of the floor. She crouched into a bow and held her hand out to an imaginary partner. Her eyes glowed in excitement and, in one lithe, graceful movement, she began to dance.
The world ceased to exist.
She was alone with her imaginary audience, captivating and seducing them with her flawless movements. She used the entire floor space, running and leaping into the air – stretching out her arms and landing gracefully. She twirled and spun, kicked and chased. She danced as though it were her last dance, enjoying every second of it. If she could bottle freedom, this is what it would feel like.
After an hour, the demands of her body began to make themselves known. She was beyond thirsty! She landed a perfect pirouette within the spotlight and swept into a low bow. Coming back to reality, she laughed out loud in sheer delight.
Scarred Queen (The Queens Book 1) Page 25