Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  “You’d have done the same,” Diego said. “The difference is, Natalia fell for me, not you.”

  I had traveled the world in search of the kind of loyalty she gave Diego. I’d lost any family bonds I’d had or formed. My parents were dead. Bianca was dead. The only man I’d ever looked up to had thought I’d violated and murdered his wife. I’d gone through great pains to surround myself with men and women I trusted my life to every day—ones I’d give mine for in return.

  Yet I remained haunted by the day Natalia had risked her life for my brother. A man who didn’t deserve her. To have what I’d built was one thing. To have the unflinching devotion of a woman like her, to be loved the way Bianca had loved Costa, was surely nirvana.

  But devotion to the wrong man could get you killed; my mother was evidence of that.

  Diego made Natalia weak—I was doing her a favor.

  Because Natalia had proved a woman who couldn’t be moved with words or reason. It had to be with action and force.

  “Natalia didn’t fall for you. She was manipulated.” I stalked closer to him, enjoying the way he pulled back his shoulders, as if he thought he stood a chance against me. “You slowly secured her loyalty to you over anyone else, so when you were ready to make demands of Costa, he’d have no choice but to give in or lose her.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t love her or see him as a father,” Diego said. “I know what’s best for all of us.”

  A monster didn’t always perceive himself that way. But I saw right through my brother. “It was an admirable grab at power, not unlike something our father would’ve done, but it didn’t work. And in the end, it doesn’t matter, because it won’t change your fate.”

  “Once the Maldonados hear about the fire, they’ll come looking for me.” A vein in his forehead appeared as he tensed his jaw. “I can’t recover from this.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  He swallowed, his hands twitching as if he had to resist throwing a punch. “So, here I am. You have me where you want me. What do you want, Cristiano?”

  “Nobody gives me what I want. I take it.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and made a fist. “I’ve cost them over a hundred million dollars. They’ll crucify me. And Costa. And everyone who ever spoke a word to me.”

  I undid my jacket as I rounded my desk to make a fresh drink. “You knew the risk of writing a check you might not be able to cash.”

  “I would’ve been able to—if not for you.”

  “There is no use in if, Diego.” I sat in my leather chair and leaned back. Diego continued to stand tall, though I read the agitation in his eyes and hands. “What’s done is done.”

  “So that’s it. You’ll ruin the Cruzes too? Stand back and watch as the cartel takes revenge on everyone involved—me, my men . . . Natalia?”

  I didn’t respond at first, letting that sink in for Diego. He had fucked with me, and now I had the power to destroy him and everyone he loved. His precious Natalia too, who’d be especially devastated since she’d been lying to herself for years that she wanted nothing to do with this life. Now his sins would be hers.

  When recognition of my reach began to cross his features, I spoke again.

  “Ángel Maldonado and I happen to have an amicable relationship,” I said, crossing an ankle over one knee. “For his mercy, I will pay a hefty price, but it can be arranged—for those I find deserving, at least.”

  His shoulders loosened just a little. “I figured as much. So what do you want in exchange for that ‘hefty price’?”

  “From you? Nothing. I’ll pay the toll to spare Costa and his family—who have acted as my family.”

  “And me?” he asked, drawing back. “Your own brother?”

  “You’ve been in my shoes.” I opened the top drawer of my desk and took out a box of Cubans. “You had the chance to save my life by speaking to my innocence, but you didn’t.”

  “I was trying to protect the family you claim to love. I had no reason to believe you weren’t guilty.”

  I cut the tip of one cigar and glanced up at Diego to scrutinize his reaction to what I said next. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

  His jaw set as the pulse at the base of his neck quickened. He flattened his hands on my desk. “Whatever lies you’ve convinced yourself of, you can’t hide from the truth. You’d murder your own brother.”

  “No. The Maldonados will do it for me.” I flicked my lighter and held the flame to the end of the cigar. “You left me at the mercy of another—now I’ll do the same for you.”

  “Why not just shoot me here?” he asked. “Don’t you have the guts?”

  “I hope for a long, prosperous relationship with Costa if he wants one.”

  “And killing me might jeopardize that.”

  “I’m not killing you. You got yourself into this mess. I’m simply not going to help you.” I puffed on the cigar, feeling gratified, then offered it to him. “Eye for an eye, Diego. It’s more than you deserve after everything you’ve done.”

  He ignored my gift and straightened up, regaining composure as if he’d grasped an answer that could earn his freedom. There was none, but I’d play along until I got bored. I’d waited for this moment too long to rush it.

  “You want to see me stripped of everything? My family, my money, my woman?” he asked. “You hold the cards, Cristiano. Tienes todo el control. I’m at your mercy—but you cannot let the Maldonados go through with this. They won’t just kill me . . . they will make an example of me—”

  “As they should.” I traded the cigar for my drink. With a celebratory sip of tequila, I ran my tongue over my teeth, pleased to find revenge had hints of peach and sweet agave. “There has been a snake in the grass far too long, and it’s only fair somebody separate its deceitful mind from its body.”

  He began to pace in front of my desk. “Name your price, then.”

  “There’s none.”

  “There’s always a price. Whatever it is, however high, tell me now.”

  I watched him quietly, reveling in the way his eyebrows knitted together when the truth dawned on him. This was the final puzzle piece he’d come looking for today, the one thing he couldn’t figure out. What did I want in exchange for taking mercy on him?

  Nothing.

  I hadn’t manipulated him into this position to extract anything. Because of him, I’d suffered. For years, I’d been on the run, looking over my shoulder for a sicario in the dark. I’d lived with the knowledge that the people I’d cared for most had thought me a traitor. I had pulled myself from nothing and built an empire. I was wealthier than God and surrounded by a steadfast army. I’d made peace with Costa. All that remained was to see my brother pay for his sins, which I suspected ran deeper than he was willing to admit.

  And now I would.

  And now he knew the truth.

  Betrayal had a price, and even family had to pay.

  “Confess your sins and pray for mercy,” I said. “But you’ll get none from me.”

  Diego had plans to take over Costa’s cartel and drag down Natalia as he followed in my father’s footsteps, but I wouldn’t allow it. The world would be a better place devoid of any de la Rosa men, but especially without the two of them.

  Diego shut his eyes, his chest expanding with each deep breath. When he looked at me again, his gaze burned with hatred. “You can’t do this,” he said.

  “It is done.” I looked to Maksim, Eduardo, and Alejo—my friends and my compadres—as I spoke to Diego. “You can run. I did for years. But I expect you won’t make it months.” I returned my eyes to my brother. “Then again, perhaps you’ll surprise me.”

  “Or perhaps I’ll spend my final days in California. Natalia is headed back soon. She’d like to have me with her.”

  I flattened a hand on my desk. I could order the Maldonados not to kill Natalia, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t if she purposely got in the way. I hadn’t been able to stop my mother from supporting and defend
ing my father’s decision to get into the sex trade industry.

  “You’d be putting Natalia at risk. You know what they’d do to her. It would be selfish. Are you a selfish man, Diego?”

  He glanced away.

  I didn’t need an answer. I’d convince Costa to keep Natalia close in the coming days. With his help, no harm would befall her. I took a final pull from my cigar and stood, cracking my knuckles. “Do as you please with your final days. We’re finished here.” From my pocket, I took a silver coin and flipped it at him.

  He caught it and turned it over in his palm. “What’s this?”

  “The ferryman demands a toll to take passengers to the underworld,” I said. “This one’s on me. Safe travels to hell, hermano.”

  Diego stood his ground, raising cold, bitter eyes to mine. “I’ll beg if that’s what it takes. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  “You have nothing to offer me. What’ve you got that I can’t buy for myself?”

  “Besides my loyalty—information,” he said. “I know everything there is to know about Costa’s business. I can give you inside access. Together, we can take over his cartel and you can rule them both with me as an advisor.”

  “I have no need for Costa’s business, but if I did, I’d manage to secure it fine without you.” I signaled for my men to remove Diego.

  “Help me leave town,” Diego said, growing louder as he rushed out his final pleas. “This will be the last you ever see or hear of me. You can tell everyone, including the Maldonados, I attacked you and died as a traitor. Tell them anything.”

  I rose from my chair, buttoning my jacket as I strolled around the side of my desk to face him. “You’ve plotted against Costa; why should I believe you wouldn’t do the same to me? I can already see the wheels turning in your mind as a plan forms. I won’t spend my life looking over my shoulder anymore.”

  “I will, you have my word,” he rushed out. “I’ll disappear completely.”

  “Your word means nothing. A parasite doesn’t change its ways.” I nodded to Maksim. “Remove him.”

  Eduardo and Alejo rushed forward like a stampede and took Diego’s arms, forcing him toward the door.

  “Suéltame,” Diego said, struggling against them. “Get off!”

  As they dragged him backward, I turned back for my cigar.

  “You’re wrong, Cristiano,” Diego said. “About one thing, you’re wrong.”

  Despite the desperation that remained in his voice, something about it had turned chilling, almost satisfied. He wasn’t entirely defeated as he should be. Nor was he filtering himself anymore or hiding behind a persona he’d crafted.

  It was enough to get me to look back and raise a hand to stop my men. I smiled. “Tell me what I’m wrong about.”

  His breathing evened out as smug certainty tainted his words. “You say you have everything you want—but that isn’t true. Some things can’t be taken. Some things must be given.”

  I narrowed my eyes on him as red light flickered and faded downstairs. “There’s nothing in this world you have that I can’t take for myself.”

  “Then you’re no different from our father.”

  I drew back. He was right—because my father had taken people. If Diego was saying what I thought he was, then even I had underestimated the lengths he would go to to save himself. Something stirred deep inside me, a desire I tried not to acknowledge for fear of where it could lead.

  “Don’t think I don’t know your weak spot, brother,” Diego said. “Because it is mine too.”

  I raised my chin. I couldn’t protest. I should’ve stopped him by now, but I hadn’t—because in this area, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be strong. “That’s not yours to give.”

  “It is. Call off the Maldonados.” He bowed his head and spoke ardently. “Spare my life, and I will deliver it to you.”

  I should’ve had Max finish him off there for trying to tempt me. I had a plan. More importantly, I had a code, especially when it came to human lives. I hadn’t encountered many reasons in my life to break it.

  But this possession wasn’t only something I wanted. It was something Diego wanted.

  And that made it all the more precious.

  Natalia

  I sat at my dresser in a daze, unsure of how long I’d been brushing my hair and willing my phone to ring. I hadn’t heard from Diego since the warehouse had burned, and my father was making arrangements to get me out of Mexico. Diego had to know how worried I was. And how that anxiety ruled my imagination. If the Maldonados knew about the warehouse, Diego could very well be dead by now.

  Until I spoke to him, there was nothing I could do but pray for his safe return. I traded my brush for a match. When I struck it, fire flamed. I held it to the wick of my Virgin Mary candle, lit a few others on my dresser, and closed my eyes.

  But I didn’t think of Our Lady or God or even Diego.

  Instead, the devil came to mind.

  Cristiano had fooled everyone around him—except me. I still hadn’t completely processed Cristiano’s involvement in the death of his own parents. At only fifteen, he’d come to my father, the head of their rival cartel, with information that he knew would seal their fate. How could my father have trusted someone who’d committed that kind of betrayal against his blood?

  And now, Diego would pay the price.

  No, I couldn’t think like that. Diego would pull himself out of this, and I had to hold on to that hope for both of us. Whatever it took, I wasn’t going to let him go. I couldn’t. Having Mamá ripped from my arms was enough heartbreak for one lifetime. Diego wasn’t just the love of my life—he was my past and future. He anchored me. We had a long life ahead of us—a cliffside California wedding, children that would resemble each of us, safety and security that had been earned over a lifetime.

  Saying good-bye to all of that would be too difficult to bear.

  I’d protect it however I needed to.

  Diego had already shaken hands with one devil. Whether it was the Maldonados or Cristiano who held his fate, we’d take it back—even if it meant making a new deal.

  No matter what my father said, I wasn’t leaving Mexico until I knew Diego was safe.

  I paid no attention to the first couple taps at my window, but when the third came, I jumped up. Barely noticing how my feet smarted, I ran onto the balcony, tying my robe closed, and leaned over the side. On the dark lawn, a shadowed figure looked up at me from under a black hoodie.

  My heart leapt. “Diego,” I said. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  He held a finger to his lips. After glancing left and right, he scaled the trellis along one wall he’d used before to sneak into my room.

  I scanned the yard as he climbed, making sure nobody saw. As he reached the top, the wood lattice under his foot snapped. He jerked, cursing as he almost lost his footing. I reached for him, and a vision flashed—his fingertips centimeters from mine before he lost his grip and fell to his death.

  I shook the harrowing thought from my mind. “Careful,” I whispered.

  He grasped my hand and heaved himself up the rest of the way. I grabbed his cheeks and pulled his mouth to mine. He thrust one hand in my hair, holding me as he devoured me for a kiss that tasted of soot, smoke, and death. My fingers traveled his face, brushing over cuts and bumps. I drew back to take in the bloodied bruises on his cheekbones, nose, and forehead.

  Seeing the evidence of his fight against that morning’s attack made my chin wobble.

  “Oh, no, princesa. Don’t cry,” Diego said softly. “Let me in. After the last twenty-four hours, it’d be a waste for me to get shot here.”

  I moved so he could climb over the concrete balustrade. Once inside, I hugged his neck. “I’m so scared.”

  “Shh.” He rubbed my back. “Come. I need you to be strong for me.”

  I swallowed down the urge to cry and reluctantly released him. “What’s happening?”

  Diego sat on the edge of the bed, put his elbows on his k
nees, and ran both hands through his hair. “Please forgive me for last night. Please. I need you to know that I came back for you, but you were gone.”

  “Against my will,” I said. “I would never have left you, either.”

  “Cristiano.” As he cupped a hand over his other fist and squeezed it, the tendons of his forearms went taut. “Did he hurt you?”

  The fear and concern in his eyes made me go to him. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “No,” I said. “He forced me to leave and brought me home.”

  His fingertips dug into my hip. “I want to curse him and thank him all at once. He may have saved your life, but it was only so he could flaunt that in my face.”

  “You’ve spoken to him?”

  “Yes.” Diego looked up at me, his expression pained as he caressed my back. “First, just promise me he didn’t lay a finger on you.”

  I nearly shivered remembering Cristiano’s threatening presence behind me in my bedroom. My thoughts as they’d strayed to the possibility that he’d unapologetically take what I’d saved for Diego. The way he’d held my wrist and provoked me with words to distract me from the pinch of the tweezers. His fingertips trailing up my leg, his grip on my upper thigh, his unusual reaction to hearing about my virginity.

  I smoothed Diego’s brown hair from his forehead. It was no less silky for whatever trauma he’d been through. “He dropped me off,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “Really?” Diego’s expression eased. “He never touched you?”

  “Really.” I was surprised at the lie, but relief crossed Diego’s face for the first time since he’d arrived.

  “I never should’ve taken you to the warehouse,” he said. “Being around me puts you in danger.”

  Because my father had said the same to me many times, hearing that from Diego almost felt like a betrayal. I drew back. “That’s my choice to make,” I said. “Papá wants to send me home early, but I’m not leaving you.”