42. Turning Tides
CHAPTER 42
TURNING TIDES
J ia
The sprawling compound of La Sombra Boricua looks more like a five-star luxury resort than the hideout of a notorious crime organization. A sultry breeze sweeps dark hair across my face, the towering palms swaying to the rhythm of the warm air blowing off the Caribbean Sea. The waves roll in, the soft rush lulling me into a false sense of calm.
Esmeralda may have been on good terms with the Rossies, but I know better than anyone how quickly the tides can turn in our dark world. As if Marco has read my thoughts, his hand tightens around mine, his thumb brushing across my palm.
The gentle touch sends a whisper of heat streaking below my bellybutton, reminding me of the cum between my legs. Marco wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted me walking into Esmeralda’s home with him dripping down my thighs. I should be mortified, but instead, I enjoy the wicked sensations it elicits. It marks me as his, and considering he’s been with this woman not long ago, I’m feeling a little insecure, something I do not enjoy. Though I’ve never met Esmeralda in person, I have seen photos of her, and the woman is gorgeous.
A spike of jealousy jabs at my insides.
Stop it, Jia . Marco loves you, he married you. This time it’s Yéye’s voice that whispers through my subconscious.
As we walk up the coquina stone pathway, I draw in a breath and remind myself why we’re here. Not to size up one of Marco’s past conquests, but to discover who dared to ruin our wedding day.
“Remember, let me do the talking,” Marco whispers.
“Of course, honey.”
Maisy giggles, canting her head over her shoulder as she regards us. I send a quick prayer up thanking God she and Nico are heavy sleepers. Despite Marco’s reassurances, I was more than relieved they hadn’t awoken midway through our in-flight sexcapades.
When we reach the front door of the tropical bungalow, the guard stationed at the entrance opens it and ushers us inside. From the foyer, the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea stretch out before us. The view is so incredible, I nearly miss the leggy Latina sauntering toward us in nothing but a skimpy bikini. She’s all perfectly tan and toned skin, with dark, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders doing nothing to hide her full breasts. The bikini top barely conceals her nipples.
Maisy stares so pointedly, I’m scared her eyes are going to pop out of her head. The feisty redhead had fought tooth and nail with Nico to be allowed to join us. Marco’s brother had planned on leaving his girlfriend on the jet with a slew of guards, but she’d convinced him otherwise by the time we landed. I liked her from the start, but that power move had sealed the deal for me.
“Gentlemen, so lovely to see you both again in my home.” Esmeralda presses a kiss to Nico’s cheek, utterly ignoring Maisy .
When she approaches Marco, I glide between them, sticking my hand out. “A pleasure, Esmeralda, I’ve heard so much about you. I am Jia Guo, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
“Guo-Rossi,” Marco grumbles. “My wife.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Her dark eyes sparkle in amusement as she regards us, her gaze lingering on my husband and the ring on his finger a little longer than I appreciate. “I apologize I was unable to attend the wedding, but in hindsight, I suppose it was for the best.”
“About that—” Marco interjects, but Nico cuts him off before he gets the rest of the sentence out.
“Thank you for having us today, Esmeralda. We hate to inconvenience you, but the matter we’d like to discuss warrants an in-person visit.”
Her lips curve into a devilish grin. “I told you that you were always welcome in my home, Nico.” Then her gaze flickers to Marco. “You as well, despite your questionable behavior on your last visit, but I suppose all of that is over now that you’re married.”
“Very much so,” he snaps before drawing me into his side.
I can’t help but tense as I feel his body against me, my thoughts conjuring images of him with the Puerto Rican beauty. The logical side of me knows I’m being ridiculous, but unfortunately, logic has no bearing in matters of the heart.
“My husband is more than satisfied,” I blurt.
Marco’s eyes widen as his gaze snaps to mine. The hint of a smirk curls his lip before he schools his expression to neutral once again. Of course, he’s enjoying this.
Nico clears his throat. “Back to the matter at hand…”
“Yes, of course, come sit.” Esmeralda and a troop of guards escort us through the open doors to the patio. Beyond the sparkling pool, the crystalline waters of the sea roll up to her backyard. All five of us fill the tropical print patio chairs, positioned in a neat semi-circle facing the ocean.
“It’s really beautiful here,” Maisy murmurs .
Esmeralda turns her fiery gaze on Nico, then Marco. “If you’d like, the women can enjoy the beach while we discuss business.”
Righteous indignation zips through my veins, compelling a slew of curses to the tip of my tongue. “The women ,” I grind out, “are more than capable of attending to the discussion. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the head of my own organization, and it isn’t like this is a social visit. Right, Maisy?” I’m not certain how involved she is in the day-to-day business, but she’s the one who caught the housekeeper spying after all. Clearly, she’s got a keen eye and a good head on her shoulders.
She nods quickly, red curls bouncing. “Yes, absolutely. We can always swim later… Or not at all.” Her hand settles on Nico’s thigh, and I wonder if she’s feeling as insecure as I am in front of Esmeralda’s predatory gaze. Had she slept with Nico too?
My new brother-in-law clears his throat once again, sliding to the edge of the cushion. “We need to discuss your operations in Lower Manhattan.”
“And anything you might know about Blanca Alvarez,” Marco adds.
A tendon in Esmeralda’s jaw feathers, but she keeps her expression a blank mask. “Yes, I am familiar with Blanca and her family. They are prominent people in San Juan, with roots in Colombia.”
“Great, the fucking cartel,” Marco mutters.
“When did she join your operation?” Nico’s question catches her off guard, and her smarmy smile wanes.
“How very astute of you, Mr. Rossi…”
“Well, we figured someone had to be leading the show in Manhattan.” Nico motions at the sprawling shoreline. “And as you seem to prefer your tropical hideaway, it wasn’t too difficult to connect the dots.” He pauses, his eyes, nearly the brilliant blue of the sea surrounding us, blazing. “Was it your idea to plant her as a housekeeper in my own home? ”
Her eyes widen, the dark spheres piercing. Her hand twitches before she folds it in her lap. She doesn’t know.
I nudge my elbow into Marco’s side as his head slowly dips as if he’s come to the same conclusion.
Esmeralda uncrosses her legs and leans forward, dark gaze darting between both brothers. “I was not aware of this. Perhaps the leash across the ocean needs to be shortened.”
“We believe she instigated the attack at our wedding.” Marco’s voice sharpens like shards of glass crackling across the tile. “As you can imagine, she will be dealt with. That level of disrespect will not be tolerated.”
Esmeralda’s shiny fa?ade falters, and she reaches for a sarong haphazardly tossed on a neighboring chair. As she slowly wraps it around her curves, the tension thickens.
“Unless you tell us otherwise, we are going to assume you had nothing to do with it, correct?” Marco slides to the edge of the couch, mirroring his brothers position, his mismatched eyes seared to the woman.
“Of course not.”
“Then it was just a coincidence you didn’t attend?” I blurt.
“I prefer not to leave the solace of my island home, as you’ve said.”
Marco grumbles beneath his breath.
“If you choose not to break ties with her,” Nico continues, “we will have no other choice than to take matters into our own hands. And just so that we’re clear, the Valentinos are onboard with whatever decision we make.”
“As well as the Four Seas, obviously,” I interject. “And I have no doubt that I could persuade the rest of the Chinese Triad to see it our way. Attempting to murder the new lǎodà is a sign of extreme disrespect.”
She swallows hard, the faint sound echoing through the sudden stillness.
“An attempt on the life of my bride is not something I take lightly, Esmeralda,” Marco growls and locks one hand onto my thigh. “The only reason Blanca’s blood isn’t painting the streets of Lower Manhattan already is out of respect for our past. The Geminis and La Sombra Boricua have always had a mutual understanding. I’d like to keep it that way, but Blanca continuing to breathe will not be part of the deal.”
“Feel free to call Luca or Dante and speak to them directly,” Nico adds, “but our half-brothers have promised their full support. And as Jia mentioned, the Chinese Triad will fall in line next. That would leave you with very few allies—or at least, trustworthy ones.” He shoots her a grin, and with the smart twist of his lips, he looks so much like Marco it’s unnerving.
“I will consider your terms,” she finally mutters. “But it seems my options are limited.”
“Trust me, Esmeralda, you do not want to make an enemy out of the Geminis.” My husband leans closer, eyes locked on her, and a vicious snarl curls his lip. “And on a more personal level, you do not want me as your enemy. A newly married man out of his mind in love with his new wife is not one to be fucked with.”