Violent Triumphs (White Monarch Book 3)

by Jessica Hawkins

  What?

  What would I do? Bring her back here? Go with her?

  Dread filled me, planting my feet where they were.

  She’d been given a second chance.

  As had I.

  I’d promised I’d protect her. Since then, there’d been two serious attempts on her life. She’d almost been taken from me more times than that. I hadn’t kept her safe. I’d only put her in more danger. I’d risked her life too many times, and this was my opportunity to make it right. Natalia would wake up on the sea, and she would hear it from the people who cared for her most. I was dead. That I had died avenging her and completing the mission I’d set out to do—saving lives. It would be hard, but eventually, she would pick up and move on with her life.

  I wasn’t going to run into the ocean and call them back when Natalia had already set sail on a better future.

  She’d be safe with Barto, Max, Pilar, Alejandro—and her father. It was a new life with them or death with me, and she would choose me if I let her. She’d stay here by my side until the end.

  I had a purpose here. I needed to see it through. As soon as I’d decided to stay behind, I’d known it was the right choice, and it still was.

  Heaven, hell, or anything in between—I would find her again.

  Until we met, wherever it would be, she’d be safe.

  “What are you doing?” Gabriel asked. “Let’s go.”

  “Sal de aquí,” I said, sending him away. “You couldn’t find me in time to tell me she was alive, understand? Tell her I died with dignity, and with love for her in my heart.”

  “Cristiano—”

  I charged him, took him by the shirt, and I did for him what I’d once tried to do for Natalia. I scared the shit out of him for his own good. “Get the fuck out of here. Now. You can’t stay here.” My voice threatened to break as I shoved him away. “You still owe Natalia your life. Stay with her. Take care of her. I’m trusting you to do that for me. It’s my . . .” I gritted my teeth together. “It’s my dying wish.”

  Gabriel looked as if he’d seen a ghost. He backed away from me and glanced at the floor as he said. “Yes, sir. I promised I’d be a good soldier to you and to her. I will, in life or death. Thank you for—”

  “There’s no time. Go.”

  He nodded once, then sprinted away.

  I couldn’t move, barely able to breathe as it registered. Natalia was alive. I couldn’t fucking believe it. It changed nothing, and it changed everything.

  It was occasion to celebrate.

  I made myself a drink, a few fingers of my finest, most expensive mezcal—then filled the tumbler to the top. Might as well finish off the bottle. I took my time cutting and lighting a Honduran Gurkha Black Dragon cigar I’d been saving for a special occasion. The birth of my son or daughter. The wedding I’d tried to convince Natalia we should repeat with as much extravagance as we could. In this case, I’d be celebrating her life, and the fall of Belmonte-Ruiz.

  My love, my wife, was alive. I walked through the vacant house, by the patio where Natalia and I had eaten snails, past the dining table where I’d loved her most intimate spot with my mouth the first time, and I made my slow way up the same stairs where she’d called me back to her in her darkest hours after learning the depth of Diego’s deception. Where any love she might’ve had left for him had finally become mine.

  To our bedroom, where she’d killed a man.

  Where I’d held her in my arms after she’d arrived here, where she’d quivered against me.

  Where I’d first made love to her.

  In the shower, where we’d confessed our love to each other the first time.

  The closet, where I’d threatened her with a good time with El Gallo.

  With my drink and cigar in one hand, I continued on to the closet and removed Natalia’s wedding dress from its fancy, padded hanger. She had walked into the church that day tall, with curious, anxious eyes, and jet-black tendrils framing her delicate features and smooth, bronzed skin. The most beautiful thing I’d ever fucking seen, and she’d been mine. I fisted the fine fabric the way I had that day in the church. It had torn so easily and had been mended as close to perfection as it could get.

  But it would always be scarred by my hand.

  I was doing the right thing.

  I went to the balcony for one final glimpse as they sailed away, but there was nothing on the horizon except first light.

  I sat in one of the over-sized cushioned patio chairs Natalia had bought for the balcony and tried not to think of her, somewhere out there, alone.

  But it was an impossible feat.

  She wasn’t alone. She had her father. Barto. Alejo, Max, Gabe, Pilar—everyone. Everyone but me.

  Natalia was stronger for the past year. She would thrive. I had given her that. And she was even more beautiful.

  What would life for her look like without me? There was a chance . . .

  I pulled my thoughts back, pinching the expensive Honduran cigar I’d only begun to enjoy between my fingers until I’d nearly halved it.

  I wouldn’t risk her life and allow her to die for me, though there was never any question I’d die for her. She had promised me she’d go on. Live life to the fullest. Pursue happiness.

  What more could I ask for? I had a front row seat to one of God’s greatest phenomenon—the rise of the sun over the vast ocean. And the knowledge that I’d made the right decision, no matter how fucking badly it hurt. That my Natalia was safe.

  I sipped my mezcal and heard bare feet slapping the hallway tile only a second before Natalia came crashing through the bedroom door.

  30

  Cristiano

  Breathless but breathing, cheeks pink with life, fire ablaze in violet eyes I thought would never reopen—my dead wife stood in front of me with disheveled hair. Furious. “Fuck you, Cristiano de la Rosa.”

  I dropped my cigar to the ground as I stood. She had to be an apparition. “God in the sky, tell me I’m seeing things,” I said, my voice rising as I stepped out from behind the chair. “Tell me I’ve gone completely fucking mad, and that I’m seeing things, Natalia—” I balled my fists. “Tell me you did not come back here!”

  She rushed forward and shoved me in the chest. “You think you can send me away while you stay here to die?”

  Alejandro appeared in the doorway and didn’t look nearly as fearful as he should. He had no idea what I’d do to him for risking her life.

  She glanced back at Alejandro. “What, you pendejos thought you could make decisions about my future? Fuck all of you assholes.”

  I turned my glare on Alejo. “You couldn’t handle her? She was dead a half hour ago.”

  “We taught her too well. She fought back when she learned the truth.” He wiped his bloody lip. “She has more will to stay than I have to make her leave.”

  “Then her death will be on your shoulders, Alejandro,” I snapped, unfair as it was.

  “To get back to you, she would’ve shot me.” He nodded at her hand. “I’m certain of it.”

  She held the White Monarch. I frowned. “Did you shoot someone, Natalia?”

  She cleared some hair that’d fallen into her face. “Not yet.”

  I sighed. “The boat’s supposed to be far gone by now.”

  “We’re still docked,” Alejo said. “I tried calling.”

  I took my phone from my pocket. “No tengo señal.”

  Nothing.

  Nothing at all, in fact. I had no service. No signal. No Wi-Fi.

  “Belmonte-Ruiz must’ve turned the area into a dead zone,” Alejandro said.

  They’d likely blocked the cell towers in an attempt to down our systems and hinder our attempts at escape.

  I would’ve done the same.

  And if I hadn’t chosen to stay behind, it would’ve worked. I could no longer detonate anything remotely. I had two options left. Leave with them now and let Belmonte-Ruiz live . . . or implode the Badlands from within the walls.

&nb
sp; It was no choice at all.

  It would all come down—which meant Natalia couldn’t be here. I had to get her back on that ship.

  “If they’re jamming the signal, that means they’re here,” Alejo said. “They could be at the gates any moment.”

  I glanced at him. “Vete,” I ordered him out, and he shut the door behind himself.

  I put my palms together in front of me. As a man who hardly begged for anything, except only things my wife could give me, I pleaded with Natalia to see the gravity of the situation. “On this, you have to trust me, mi amor,” I said.

  “Don’t give me that ‘trust me, mi amor’ bullshit,” she shot back through gritted teeth. “Be a man and come out from behind your excuses. Face me.”

  She struck a match against my anger, and it flared. Did she have any idea how difficult she’d just made this for me? I wanted her here by my side—God, I fucking wanted that more than anything. I had no desire to say good-bye. Not at all. But what kind of man would I be if I put her on my back and took her down with me?

  I came in from the patio and took her by the biceps. “I ask one thing of you.” I enunciated every word. “Do as you’re told.”

  “No.” She shrugged out of my grip and stepped back to cross her arms. “Alejandro and Max didn’t have time to explain. They only said you were planning to take Belmonte-Ruiz down and die in the process.”

  I pinched the inside corners of my eyes. “It’s true. This was always a possibility. I hoped it was a lever I’d never have to pull, but I do.” I raised my eyes. “And you can’t be here for it.”

  “I can and I will. I’ll stay and fight with you.”

  “I’m not fighting, Natalia,” I said. “None of us are. Everyone’s gone but us. We’re outnumbered. You’re leaving with Costa right now.”

  Her mouth pressed into a line as it did when she was so angry, she could cry—but wouldn’t let herself. Her small hands formed two formidable fists. “And what about you?”

  “I have to stay and see this through.”

  “And then what?”

  Now that we were face to face, I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her. But I couldn’t tell her the truth, either. She wouldn’t go, and I had to get her out, whatever the cost. “It’s not your job to worry about me. I have things under control—”

  “Did you not hear me earlier? I’ll repeat myself—fuck you, Cristiano.” She charged forward and pushed my chest until I was backed up against a wall. Tears filled her eyes. “How could you do this to me? I woke up alone—no husband, no b-baby.” Her voice cracked, nearly shredding my resolve. “Alone. My own father thought I’d risen from the dead and nearly fainted when he saw me.”

  “You’re not alone,” I said quietly. “You have people down there who love you. Who don’t want to lose you.”

  “Without you, I’m alone,” she said quietly. “I’d rather be with you. Here.”

  The tears in her eyes and quiver of her chin told a clear story of her pain. I never wanted to hurt her, but I would to save her. My chest threatened to cave under the weight of the truth—I loved her too much to let her stay.

  She would be alone, yes—but she would be alive.

  “You can’t be here for this,” I said.

  “You would leave me in this world all by myself? You forced me here, you made me fall in love with you, you made me need you as I need air and water”—her voice broke—“and now I’m supposed to walk away?”

  She went to shove me again, but I caught her wrists. She was crying too hard to fight me.

  “Natalia . . .”

  “I already lost my baby,” she whispered, looking down as her body shook with more sobs, silent this time. “Wasn’t that enough? Why do you continue to push me to be strong if I have nothing to live and fight for?”

  I’d thought she’d broken my heart already, but now it shattered. “Hush,” I said, gathering her in my arms, holding her as tightly as I could. She wailed in a tortured way I’d never heard from her as she crumbled against my chest, and I had to inhale up at the ceiling to stop from shedding my own tears. To stop from breaking down and giving in to her.

  “I shouldn’t have fought back.” Her tears soaked my shirt. “I should’ve waited for you to come.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I-I’d played his game . . . if I’d only kept pretending, at least until you were able to come—”

  “You had to fight, Natalia. You had to.”

  “I wished the baby away,” she said. “I tried to convince Diego I didn’t want it so he wouldn’t see it as my weakness—and I lost the baby. The miscarriage was my fault.”

  No. No, my love. She blamed herself for it? No wonder she was inconsolable. I took her arms and shook her gently to rouse her from her grief. She looked up at me, red-rimmed eyes glistening with overflowing tears. “Listen to me,” I said. “You did exactly what I told you to.” I took a breath. “And now you have to do what I say only one more time.”

  “No,” she said. “Please. No.”

  “Natalia,” I said, keeping my tone as even as I could manage. “Everyone is waiting for you.”

  “So send them away.”

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Fear. Desperation. To keep her here with me. To pick her up and physically carry her downstairs. She was making this impossible, and I was about to lose my temper. I had to be cruel. “You’d be willing to die now, this moment? You’re ready to burn alive? Because that’s the fate you’re asking me to give you.” I stared at her. “You’re not that goddamn short-sighted—you have a life to live, and it doesn’t end today.”

  I expected her to continue railing at me, but instead, calmness settled over her. “I’m not going anywhere without you, and I don’t want to. I would rather burn by your side now than spend an eternity in Heaven alone, so good luck trying to convince me otherwise. Now, tell me how this works.”

  I was wrong—it wasn’t calmness. It was resolution. It was the demise of my arguments against her. My demise. Hers. “I’m going to die today—that’s how it works,” I said.

  “Then I will, too,” she responded without hesitation. “I asked you not to spare my life at the expense of others, but you did when Diego asked you to make the deal. You were willing to ruin all those lives to keep me safe.” Her voice softened. “It’s my turn to make a hard decision. Don’t take my choice from me. Don’t fail me now and treat me as Diego and my father did. I chose you because you’re not them.”

  That wasn’t fucking fair. After all the ways I’d pushed her to be her own woman, she knew her autonomy was a plea I couldn’t deny.

  To lead a life without Natalia would be true hell, but to take her life with mine? That was what I’d be doing.

  I thumbed the corners of her mouth as she looked up at me eagerly. I searched her eyes, gripped her face, and gave it my best shot. “You know my love for you spans the world. It trumps time, space, human life. I chose you knowing hundreds would suffer. I could never make a decision that didn’t put you above all. Please, Natalia. I beg you. Go.”

  “Over my dead body. Do you hear me? Alejandro will have to drag my corpse out of here.”

  I stared my very beautiful, very angry—very much alive—wife in the face. If I forced her to go, I’d be making decisions for her as others had.

  Her determination would be her downfall. But she’d made it clear—that was her choice.

  I told her the truth, start to finish.

  31

  Natalia

  A breeze from the sea cooled my clammy skin as Cristiano, Alejandro, and I hurried from the house down to the ship. Still docked, our loved ones were at risk—but I had one thing still to do.

  I left Cristiano on the deck with Max as Alejandro escorted me onto the modern-day pirate ship. It was only missing flags with skulls and crossbones—but the Calavera presence was everywhere.

  We found my father standing at the bow, looking out over a turquoise, horizonless ocean. His tall, imposing fra
me was no less intimidating against the lifting dawn.

  Alejandro turned to face me. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. You’ve always been brave. And don’t worry about Pilar, all right?”

  With gratitude, and my complete trust in him, I took his hands and squeezed them. “Thank you.”

  “No need.” He kissed the backs of my knuckles. “Until we meet again in Heaven, Natalia.”

  When he’d left us alone, I walked forward. “Papá,” I said.

  He turned. “Mija. Gracias a Dios. You returned. Gabriel said the death was fake? What the hell happened?”

  What had happened was that I’d awoken from a deep sleep of wild dreams so fantastic and realistic, I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t visited Heaven. I’d come down floating on a cotton cloud. Things had been fuzzy, and buzzy, my fingers and toes tingling.

  As the euphoric hum in my ears had faded, irritation had ripped through me when I suddenly had eyes that tore open and a mouth that gulped air as if it would be my last breath. And I’d woken to a high-pitch whistle, the tip and sway of the sea underneath me, surrounded by men’s shouts. With an empty stomach. Blood on my dress. A broken heart. And the White Monarch in my hand.

  Had I woken up moments later, I would’ve lost Cristiano forever.

  I swallowed back the horrific, gut-wrenching thought and took my father’s hands. “It doesn’t matter. Diego lost in the end.”

  “You can tell me everything on the voyage. I have no clue where we’re headed, but Barto is working on it with Max.” He heaved a sigh. “¿Y Cristiano? Has he come to his senses?”

  I looked at our hands. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Papá moved his hands to my waist, and I raised my eyes to meet his sorrowful gaze, lines deepening around his mouth. “I’m sorry to have lost my grandchild. I can’t help think I’m partly to blame.”

  A lump formed in my throat. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Cristiano’s. And it wasn’t mine. I’d had a few joyous moments as a mother, and I was grateful for that.