Chapter 7
SEVEN
CARLOS
TWO MONTHS LATER
T he sun beams down on us as Laya nurses Romero beneath a towel, and my heart swells with pride. She’s an incredible mother. Everything I wish my own had been to me. Affection pours from her like second nature, and while I continue to cocoon my family in a bubble of security, the underlying simmer of my impending doom eats away at me.
Nico takes another sip of his drink, then glances over his shoulder toward Laya on the sunbed, and anger floods my veins. Despite knowing he’s happily married and doesn’t see Laya that way, I can’t help but want to rip the skin from his body for even glancing in her direction. His focus comes back to me, and I take a drink of my scotch to remain calm. Lately, I’ve been unraveling. I thought bringing Laya and Romero to Mexico would provide me with the reassurance I desperately need to continue with my business plans, but the mere thought of those plans has me tetchy, yet I refuse to admit it.
“Laya, take Romero inside.” Her eyes narrow on me, and when I think my wife will argue, she merely nods and walks away with our son, and I watch her ass sway as she steps inside the house.
Nico places his hand inside his jacket pocket, then throws a block of cocaine onto the table. His dark eyes meet mine, and his jaw clenches tight. “What the fuck are you playing at?” The Carrera family insignia is stamped on the foil packaging, and the familiar combination of guilt and anger floods me. It’s deadly, fierce, and self-destructive.
Nico has been like a brother to me, and while I appreciate his concern, this is really none of his fucking business, but he’s treating it as such.
When I make no move to justify my actions, he drags a hand over his face with a sigh, then leans over the table. “Fuck, Carlos. Are you for real?” He glares at me while I remain stoic. It’s an expression I have mastered since the moment I witnessed my family being slaughtered. “Carlos. I love you like a brother, but I can’t stand by and be dragged into this shit.” He points toward the cocaine.
I take another sip of my drink. “Then don’t.” I shrug while my heart thunders away. The last thing I want is for Nico to leave my side. He’s family. When his father took me in, my inheritance was tied up until I was twenty-one, then I moved out and set about creating my empire, one my family would have been proud of, no matter the consequences. I lost my way a few times, with drink, drugs, and women, but Nico has always been the one to help me find myself again, as I did him when he split with his ex, Carmen.
“You’re risking too much, Carlos.” He shakes his head. “These people do not play around.”
I scoff at the notion. “And we do?” I lift an eyebrow in his direction.
He shakes his head. “They’re scum,” he spits out with a sneer. “Human fucking traffickers.” His face contorts in disgust. “You know it. I know it, and I refuse to have anything to do with them, and I’m surprised you’re willing to.” He sits back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.
The way he looks like a petulant child makes me chuckle as I take another sip of the scotch. “I have it under control.” My smirk tells him everything he needs to know; I have leverage on them.
“Carlos, this isn’t a fucking game.”
I sit forward, angered at his words. Does he think I don’t know that? My family died because of a business deal gone wrong. “You don’t think I fucking know that?” I jab my finger into my chest as I bellow, then grimace at the thought of Laya overhearing.
“They’re just moving product within my club, nothing major.”
He leans over the table, his eyes boring into mine. “Nothing. Fucking. Major?”
“You’re getting into business with the devil himself. You really think he’s going to leave it at drugs?” He motions toward the cocaine. “This is just the start, Carlos.” I roll my eyes at his performance; he always was too much a fucking saint to be a Mafia heir. “Women will be next, then what? Are you okay with that?” For the first time since I agreed to this plan, guilt swims in my stomach. “We’re not talking prostitution, Carlos.” I know what he’s talking about. Everyone knows the Carreras deal in kidnapping and selling of women. Hurt swims in Nico’s eyes, and he closes them and turns his head away from me. When his gaze slides back to mine, the hurt has vanished. “I won’t be a part of this.”
Anxiety creeps up my spine at his words. He will walk away. Then what will I have?
I’ll have her, always her, and our boy. “I have leverage,” I repeat, my tone almost pleading.
He shakes his head. “And if you play that hand…” He turns to look at our home and a shiver washes over me as I take in what he sees: a beautiful Mexican mansion painted a bright-yellow with roses running up the side, a pool for my family, and manicured lawns for Romero as he grows, a home for my family. “They will come for them, Carlos.” Sickness rises in my stomach, but anger burns my veins as I grind my teeth and bite my tongue, determined not to tell the only man I trust to go fuck himself.
He rises from the table, and I try to contain my unraveling, the way I feel like my lungs are being crushed as he walks away. The fury that he’s walking away because he doesn’t trust my judgment has a tsunami of aggression bubbling to the surface.
As he pulls open the door, he turns to face me, and a glimmer of hope rises in my chest when his focus locks with mine. He’s going to back down and support me, after all. It’s just the guilt of working with traffickers that had him running scared, that had those harsh words leaving his mouth, and I almost want to balk at his sudden change in beliefs.
“Who are you doing this for, Carlos?” My eyes narrow. “This”—he waves his hand toward the extensive grounds—“who are you creating your legacy for?”
I grind my jaw; he knows damn well who it’s all for.
It’s for my family.
He stares at me blankly, awaiting a response.
“My family,” I spit out reluctantly.
He nods. “Are they going to be proud of the man you’re about to become? Will Romero be proud of the heir he’s expected to be, and when you lay beside your wife at night, will she be proud of her husband, the father of her children, creating a legacy on the back of trading humans? I won’t stand by your side as you abuse women and use them as nothing more than unwilling participants in a fucked-up industry we both know isn’t right.” He slams his hand over his heart. “Your family’s here today, Carlos. But they could be gone tomorrow.” With his departing words ringing in my ears, he turns and walks away, taking a piece of our relationship with him.
“Your family’s here today, Carlos. But they could be gone tomorrow.”
Nobody will take my family from me, and with the Carreras by my side, nobody will stop me.