Chapter 25
MAEVE
She had helped Morry clean up more than one puddle of blood, and the grey streaks marring the wood floor of Carlos’s office screamed that someone had died here recently. Body long gone, screams now forgotten, but there was still a metallic echo of his violence. He was a pig.
She had to admit that she didn’t remember much of him from when she was little.
After she was taken, she remembered being sad, but not because of Carlos.
She missed the servants, teachers, and Dean.
Dean had been her one constant. He’d been kind and treated her like a little sister.
It was why she’d run with him so easily… she trusted him.
All this time, she’d felt abandoned and unloved.
It was so difficult to wrap her head around the fact that Dean had saved her, that what he’d done was out of love.
She had been abused so many times by her foster father, and had killed someone while still a child herself.
How could she divide the pain from the reality?
“Don’t just hover in the doorway, come in,” Carlos barked from where he’d perched himself on his desk. It was like he sat there for hours just for this moment to show off for them.
Maeve’s stomach twisted as Yasmine nudged her forward.
Tate had wrapped his arms around her throat and was clinging tight.
It hit her that if Carlos tried anything to hurt them, she would kill him.
Morry had trained her well, and unlike Dean and whatever game he was playing to take down the big bad wolf, she didn’t care if Carlos died right this second or in a few days, weeks, or a month from now. It was all the same.
Carlos sipped a drink from a crystal glass, a smug grin spread across his face as though the bandage on his arm was a medal of honor.
Pathetic.
“Isabella,” he crooned, voice dripping with mock affection. “The little runaway lamb. All grown up and back where she belongs.”
Maeve stiffened. “My name is Maeve. I’ve told you multiple times. Do you struggle with your memory at your advanced age?”
His smile slipped, eyes hardening just enough to warn her that she’d hit a nerve.
Good.
She planned to hit a fuck load more.
“Childish barbs, just like your purple hair and false name…” Carlos tsked softly. “Dye fades, names can change, but I think it’s time you grew up.” His gaze slithered to Yasmine. “Do you wonder, querida, if your husband ever sees her when he looks at you?”
Yasmine’s jaw tightened, fury flashing in her eyes. “If you truly knew your son, you wouldn’t even bother wasting the breath to ask me such a ridiculous question.”
“Enough of this stupidity, Carlos. I’m not a child anymore. Your little scare tactics don’t work.” Maeve said and then rolled her eyes.
His lip twitched, and that pleased her.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, and just for the record, your false bravado is yesterday’s news. This office stinks like failed leadership, and the bandage on your arm makes you no more a hero than the man who missed your head with his poor shot.”
Maeve smirked at the guard, standing behind Carlos’s desk, mouth dropped open, and eyes wide. He quickly snapped his mouth shut and resumed his stony expression, but she gave him a wink anyway.
For the briefest second, the mask slipped from Carlos’s face, and the ugliness that lived inside of him stared into her eyes.
Carlos chuckled, rising with a slow grace that made the hairs on Maeve’s arms stand on end.
She was poking the bear with a sharp stick, and she knew it.
Probably not the smartest idea, but fuck it felt good.
“I think it is time that our new guest and I have a conversation alone. Escort the children and Yasmine back to their room.”
Tate clung to Maeve harder, like he knew that leaving her was a bad idea. God, he was the cutest damn kid. They both were, but she was suddenly very protective of Tate.
“It’s okay, go with your mom, I’ll be fine,” Maeve whispered as she rubbed circles on his back.
He pulled back and looked at her face, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmured, voice so small that she barely heard it.
But in that moment, she felt the tug in her chest and knew what Dean had felt when he had left her.
She could still remember the look in his eyes, how they had filled with tears.
She’d thought all this time that leaving her had been an easy escape, but in reality, it had hurt Dean as much as it had hurt her.
The clarity was staggering, and a whole new cut formed inside of her.
“I know, but I’ll visit you very soon,” she said, as Yasmine held out her arms for Tate.
“You promise?”
“I pinky promise,” Maeve said, holding up her finger. Tate smiled and linked his fingers with hers before he unlocked himself from her and went to Yasmine. The look Yasmine gave her spoke volumes. Don’t push too much…he is dangerous. The thing was…so was she.
Maeve’s gut turned to ice as the door shut, leaving her alone with the predator and four guards. Not exactly great odds, but she’d had worse.
Carlos approached, every movement calculated, eyes simmering with the anger he was trying to contain.
“You’ve become a woman. A loud one with an annoying tongue.
You should be careful, you don’t need your tongue to live or…
” He looked at her breasts, and she wanted to throw up all over him.
“Complete your womanly duties. I am nothing if not a man of my word. We will marry. You will give me Ramírez heirs, but I will give you a choice. I’m a generous man. ”
Carlos walked behind her, close enough that his body softly brushed hers. “You can choose me, or my son. Either way, the dynasty is secure. Our two families will be tied in blood, and we all win.” He circled in front of her, tapping his chin.
“You must be joking.”
“No, my dear, I’m not the type to jest about my legacy,” he said.
“You have to know that Dean would never go for it even if I did choose him.”
Carlos shrugged. “A man will do many things…things he never thought possible with the right motivation. And let’s just say he has a lot of motivation here.”
Fuck, Carlos was worse than she could ever have imagined.
Maeve’s pulse pounded in her ears. “You’re delusional.”
He laughed softly and reached for her chin.
Her training kicked in before she could think this was a bad idea. She deflected his hand with a sharp twist of her wrist and drove her fist straight into his nose. Cartilage crunched. Carlos reeled back, blood spurting between his fingers.
The guards surged forward, but Carlos held up his good hand. “No!” His voice rang out, sharp and triumphant. He wiped the blood away, eyes gleaming with something feral. “Ah, finally. One of you fights back. That is going to make breaking you so much more delicious.”
Maeve dropped into a fighting stance, weight balanced, fists raised, chest heaving with adrenaline. “You think I’m scared of you? That your little threats worry me? I’ve killed men like you since I was a child. So go ahead and try it. See what happens. I dare you.”
The guards looked at one another, caught in the uncertainty of whether to step in and help or stay out of it. Carlos tipped his head back and laughed, blood dark at his lip.
“Isn’t she magnificent?” He said with a groan, and Maeve wanted to throw up. “The little lamb grew fangs. Stunning. A she-devil. I like it.”
“Call me whatever you like,” Maeve snapped, “but if you try to touch me again…I’ll take a piece of you, and I’ll make sure it’s the part you covet more than all your money.”
Silence stretched in the room. Carlos’s breath was ragged and seemingly amused. Maeve’s heart hammered.
The office door suddenly opened, breaking the strange tension.
Dean stepped in like a gale-force wind, stitched into a crisp suit.
His face showed nothing of what he was thinking.
He took in her stance, the fury, the smear of blood at Carlos’s nose, and something in his gaze assessed the whole tableau with military precision.
She could physically see him categorizing everything.
“Son, just in time,” Carlos announced, always the showman.
“I gave Isabella here an ultimatum. I guess you should be made aware, since it includes you.” Dean folded his arms and sighed, the sound hitting Carlos like an insult.
His features darkened as he returned to his desk and once more perched himself on top. “Are you not going to ask what it is?”
“Nope,” Dean replied.
That one word set Carlos off. He jabbed a finger at him, wagging it like that was somehow threatening. “You can pretend you don’t want to know, but I know you do. I told Isabella she has three days to choose. Will she bed me, or will she bed you, until the next Ramírez heir grows in her belly?”
Dean barked out a laugh that ballooned into a howl that had tears running down his cheeks.
The overly jubilant sound filling the office.
Carlos blinked, then scowled as Dean kept laughing.
Maeve looked at Dean, confusion and something like hopeful disbelief crossing her face.
It was like watching joy and insanity come together with such a raw intensity that Maeve didn’t know what to make of the outburst.
Suddenly, Dean’s laughter stopped like he flipped a switch. He produced a knife with a movement so quick it looked like magic and threw it. The blade drilled into the wooden desk between Carlos’s spread legs with a thud.
Carlos inhaled sharply, eyes staring at the blade. The guards froze, and the room felt colder.
“Don’t ever threaten my family again. Not me, my wife, and children, or Maeve,” Dean said, voice low, deadly. “Next time I won’t miss, and we both know how much pleasure I would take from castrating you.” He turned that same hard expression on Maeve. “Walk out, Maeve. Now.”
Carlos’s eyes glittered. “You don’t know what you’ve done, Mercurio.”
“I know what I’ve done.” Dean let his gaze rake the guards, daring them. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
“Three days,” Carlos sneered. “That’s all you get to decide. And if you choose to be difficult, boy, I will find a way to make sure you comply.”
“I’m no boy, and you can certainly try.” Dean’s voice was laced with a violence that Maeve could still feel. No mercy.
Maeve straightened and walked out of the office. Dean lingered for a moment longer before following. They moved down the hall like two people leaving a guillotine behind.
Once they were far enough away, Maeve grabbed his arm. He halted, shoulders squared, his muscles tense under her fingers.
“He’ll come for both of us now,” she warned.
“He was coming anyway. How do you think I ended up here,” Dean asked, his tone softened, the soldier’s edge giving way to something that felt like a promise and a threat braided together.
“I promised I wouldn’t let him touch you.
I failed once. I won’t let it happen again. There are things I need to prepare.”
She watched him start to walk, then called after him, voice thick with her usual stubbornness. “I can help.”
Dean didn’t look back. “No. Go to your room and lock the door.”
“I’m not a child,” she snapped, irritation filling her at his automatic dismissal.
Dean stopped. The corridor seemed to hum as she waited. He turned slowly, scanning the emptiness like a man who never stops measuring danger. “I know, but I can’t do what I need to do while worrying about you.”
Maeve crossed her arms. “You want me to trust you, to forgive you? Then let me in. I’m not the girl who needs saving this time. I’m the woman who wants to get back to the man she loves, and if I have to, I will tear every guard’s eyes out to do it, with or without you.”
Dean’s mouth twitched with half a smile. “Morry rubbed off on you.”
Maeve didn’t dispute it. Morry honed her rage into a weapon that was actually useful.
“She did more than rub off on me. She taught me, and I’m one of her best. I can help, trust me.”
“Fine, you can help,” he said, nodding. “But you do exactly what I say.”
She held out her hand. “Deal.”
Dean met it slowly. Their grips were firm as they shook. “Deal.”
Maeve’s mouth set into a line. One thing was certain now, heavier than any promise or fear.
She would never be a victim again.