Chapter 1
Chapter
One
Jasmine
The night before
M y knees tucked beneath my robe, I hugged them to my chest as I leaned back against the window seat wall in my bedroom and stared through the frosty panes. Snow fell steadily from the dark sky. Stories below, the sidewalks were growing less distinguishable, their surfaces and the grass becoming one, hidden beneath a blanket of fresh accumulation. Illumination from the streetlights sparkled on the wet and slick streets like holiday lights.
I held the small kitten, keeping her cuddled against my skin.
Warm within my cocoon, my memories warred between the life I mostly recalled and that which was beyond my recollection. There was something magical, or perhaps tragic, about the first snowfall of the season that surfaced bits and pieces of memories buried deep within the recesses of my mind.
Despite my luxurious surroundings, my fingers and toes ached from phantom cold, a deep-seated chill that couldn’t be warmed. When I was young, I used to wake on the night of the first snow to fears I found impossible to articulate. I would make my way to the bedroom next door to wake my sister, Josie. She’d take me back to my room and climb into bed with me, telling me that we were now warm and safe.
No matter how difficult my questions or how many I could produce, Josie patiently answered each one. She recounted the time after we lost our grandparents when it was the two of us against the world. There were nights spent wrapped in blankets in her old car and mornings spent at a truck stop to shower before school. Rarely did she discuss our mother. I knew the subject wasn’t one Josie liked to remember. We went to live with our grandparents after our mother was convicted of manslaughter in a drug deal gone bad and sentenced to twenty years in prison. Until our grandparents died in a car crash, we had a decent home for the first time in our lives.
As time passed and I grew into adulthood, I became uncertain if the memories I recalled were my own or those given to me through Josie’s stories. The fact that my hands and feet were numb despite the tempered glass and abundant heat was evidence that the past still lurked in my subconscious.
Tipping my forehead to my knees, I let out a sigh.
My mind knew that I’d never again suffer as we had before moving in with Dario Luciano. He’d taken us both under his protective wing. Even today, years after my sister was stolen from us, Dario was here for me, supporting me, and providing for me. His influence couldn’t be understated.
Dario was first and foremost the capo dei capi of Kansas City. He was also a man of strong beliefs. While his family disapproved of him bringing me and Josie into his home, he was a man of his word—and was to this day.
He was also a collector of fine things.
Dario’s influence was evident in my choice of twin majors at Barnard College in New York: history, particularly the Renaissance, and archaeology. I was currently on semester break of my sophomore year. While I thought I’d enjoy the freedom of a college campus, I’d yet to experience any. As Dario Luciano’s responsibility, even at the age of twenty years old, I had my bodyguard to protect me at all times.
It wasn’t easy fitting into the student life with a large and intimidating man constantly in my shadow. While I longed for a regular life with freedom of choice, I was caged by the awful memories of what life could be like without Dario’s overprotective influence.
I laid the sleeping kitten on the blanket and quietly exited my bedroom. The stillness of the night buzzed in my ears, sending my senses into overdrive. I’d walked these hallways since I was seven years old, knowing each turn and what was behind every door. The simple life we’d had when I was a child was now replaced with more .
More people.
More noise.
More responsibilities.
It wasn’t only that in the last few years Dario had become the capo dei capi of the Kansas City Famiglia, making his office on the first floor a place for meetings that brought dangerous people into our home. The last few years had also brought Catalina, Dario’s wife, and Ariadna Gia, their beautiful daughter, into our fold. Dario’s marriage was the fruition of an alliance between the Kansas City Famiglia and the Roríguez cartel.
The dangers I’d been raised to avoid were present at every turn.
At first, I had my doubts about their arranged marriage, but Catalina was a great match for Dario. Her open and loving heart balanced Dario’s more reserved personality, making us a family. Because of that bond, tomorrow our home would be filled with members of the Kansas City Famiglia and the Roriguez cartel, including el Patr?n himself.
I shivered at the thought.
Making my way down the staircase to the first floor, I quietly entered the kitchen. I expected to find one of our bodyguards, Armando or Piero, keeping watch. To my surprise, the kitchen was empty, the hum of the refrigerators and lingering aromas of Contessa’s cooking in preparation for tomorrow night’s feast filling the dimly lit room.
The light from within the refrigerator was blinding as I reached for a water bottle. The clock on the microwave told me that it was past midnight, officially Christmas Eve. I couldn’t pinpoint why I wasn’t tired, but I wasn’t.
Perhaps I needed to push away my fears of the first snow.
My bare feet padded down the hallway toward the living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows beckoned me closer like a giant movie screen of the season’s first snow. The city lights combined with the ambient light and white falling snow cast a gray illumination throughout the room.
Taking a drink of my water, I spun to a noise. Almost choking with my pulse now racing, I saw a man I didn’t know standing before me.
“Who are you?” The wavering in my voice threatened to give away my unease. The small hairs on my neck rose to attention and goose bumps materialized beneath my pajamas. This was my home.
Why is he here?
Quickly, my gaze darted around the room, searching for Piero or Armando. My thoughts were fragments trying to make sense of his presence. There was something about this man, an air of danger and power. Muscles with tattoos bulged from beneath the sleeve of his dark t-shirt. While there was a holster over one shoulder, this man didn’t need weapons: he could maim or kill with his hands.
I’d heard Catalina’s brother was visiting for the holiday. I knew Em. This wasn’t him.
Despite my recent drink, my mouth went dry as the man walked toward me, each step of his boots echoing on the marble tile. His jean-clad long legs reached me in a few steps. With the closeness came a better view of his handsome face, prominent brow, and defined jaw covered by a trimmed beard. His chest seemed wider, and his height dwarfed mine.
His dark hair was short on the sides and longer on top. The scent of sandalwood and leather permeated my senses. Securing the cap on my water bottle, I set it on the windowsill. Straightening my neck, I stood tall, feigning strength, as I tried to put together the pieces. “You’re from the Roríguez cartel.” It wasn’t a question and at the same time, it was.
“ Sí .”
Was he one of their guards? A soldier wouldn’t move with the confidence he emanated. The way he moved was graceful as if he’d choreographed a dance—perhaps a tango. No, I was wrong. His steps were predatory, a lion approaching his prey.
I took a step back.
He was close enough that I had to raise my chin to maintain my view of his almost fully black orbs. Another step and I would collide with the cool glass of the window. I held my ground
“You’re Jasmine.”
He pronounced my name in a way I’d never heard. Jazz-mean .
I nodded.
His lips curled, yet his black stare wasn’t smiling.
I sucked in a breath and flinched as his hand came upward, twisting and running a ringlet of my hair through his fingers. “They told me you were beautiful.” He tilted his head to the side. “Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe you.”
Words failed me. There was something about this man that stirred emotions within me in a way I’d never experienced. While at the same time, part of my brain told me to scream and yell, to get away from him.
“You’re stunning.” He nodded. “You’ve grown up since the capo’s wedding.” His gaze was on my hair. “I’ve never seen such red hair.” His gaze returned to mine as his hand fell to his side. “Or blue eyes.”
Bravely, I lifted my hand to his chest. “Stop.” Despite his calm exterior, beneath my touch, this man’s heart too was racing, thumping wildly. Energy pulsated from him to me as if our touch was a conduit for electricity. I met his gaze. “Tell me who you are and how you’re here in my home.”
“You do not recognize me?” He took a step back and bowed at the waist before standing erect. “ Lo lament . Mí nombre es Reinaldo. Some call me Rei.”
My mind searched for the mention of him. He was present at Dario’s wedding.
“Perhaps you’ve heard of mí padre , Jorge Roríguez.”
Oh. The connection was made. I’d attended Dario’s wedding as this man’s brother’s plus-one. “You’re el Patr?n’s son and Aléjandro’s brother?”
Rei nodded before cupping my chin and running his thumb over my cheek. “Your skin is like glass.” His touch against my flesh was like the striking of a match, his thumb rough and callused, lighting a flame within me. My panties dampened and my nipples beaded.
“Please,” I said, less strong than I would have preferred. “You shouldn’t be touching me.”
He glanced down at my breasts, and his smile returned.
Why hadn’t I secured my robe?
I backed up as he took one more step toward me, and my shoulders collided with the cool windowpane. His massive body was millimeters away. If I so much as inhaled deeply, my breasts would meet his broad chest.
His dark eyes hooded, and his nostrils flared. “Tell me, Jasmine. Has a man ever touched you before, brought you pleasure?”
“I really think you should back up.” I inhaled. “If one of my bodyguards sees you…”
“I could gut him before he drew his weapon.” Rei again reached for my chin and ran that same thumb over my lips. “You would like it…if I touched you.”
Words failed me. I was too busy fighting whatever spell he’d cast. My body and mind battled. My body wanted to inhale, to feel his hard body against mine and to experience what he described. My mind was busy telling me to run from his threat.
Rei’s timbre dropped an octave. “Even now” —his thumb moved slowly— “your breathing has become shallower, and here” —he moved his touch to my neck— “your vein is pulsating. Your nipples have grown harder beneath that top. I might scare you, but you’ve lived with the capo dei capi. Danger also excites you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not scared,” I lied.
His lips twitched as if a smile was close to morphing his granite features as he lowered his touch down the side of my neck and collarbone. “You’re brave. I admire a woman who doesn’t cower.”
I wanted to tell him again not to touch me, but that same touch caused my circulation to quicken, my insides to twist, and my brain to forget how to form words.
“Soon, you will know what I mean.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
Rei took a step back. He reached for my hand and again bowed, this time leaving a kiss on my knuckles. “It was a pleasure to formally meet you, Jasmine.” He turned and walked toward the staircase.
The son of the drug lord of the Roríguez cartel was staying in my house.
I waited until he disappeared before I let out the breath I’d been holding. Fear was an interesting emotion. All my life I’d been told to avoid danger, to stay safe. There was nothing safe about Reinaldo Roríguez, yet I couldn’t decide to keep my distance.