Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
Layla
I strapped on my heels, then smoothed down the black silk of my dress. The fabric whispered against my skin, cool and sleek. In just a few hours, I would make my first public appearance as the new head of the Cortez family.
Three days had passed since our assault on the field office. Three days of frantic preparations, of tending to wounds both physical and emotional. We'd lost six good men in the attack, including Effren. His absence left a palpable hole in our ranks, a constant reminder of the cost of our victory. But it’d been a success. We’d killed every one of those DEA motherfuckers.
I wasn’t looking forward to the potential hell to pay in the coming weeks if news of who was responsible ever leaked, but that was a problem for another time.
I touched the bandage on my shoulder, wincing slightly at the dull ache. The bullet wound was healing well, but it would leave a scar. Another mark to add to my collection, probably the first of many, many more.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I paused, surprised. Usually my men just barged in without ceremony. I crossed the room and opened the door to find River standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in black suit and no tie, his tattoos covering his neck and hands.
"Well, well," I said with a smirk. "Look who finally learned how to knock instead of lurking in the shadows like a creepy stalker."
River's lips twitched in amusement. "I thought I'd try something new. Doesn't seem to suit me though."
He stepped into the room, his eye roaming over me appreciatively. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. "You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Like a queen."
His large hands came up to gently cup my face, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones. My breath caught in my throat at the tenderness of the gesture. He was touching me. Really touching me. It wasn’t even the touch of a man who wanted to fuck me. It was soft and intimate, and something I didn’t know River was capable of. Not yet.
The moment his mouth touched mine, I was lost. River kissed me like a man starved, his lips moving against mine with desperate hunger. One hand slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. The other trailed down my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
River's kiss was intoxicating, his lips moving against mine with a passion that left me breathless. I melted into him, my hands coming up to grip the lapels of his suit jacket. His tongue swept across my lower lip, seeking entrance. I parted my lips with a soft moan.
One of his hands slid down to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the hard planes of his body through the thin silk of my dress. When we finally broke apart, both panting slightly, I blinked up at him in a daze. River's eye was dark with desire, his pupils blown wide. A faint flush colored his high cheekbones.
"I've been wanting to do that for a very long time," he murmured, watching my lips still.
I licked my lips, tasting him on them. "What took you so long?"
A shadow passed over his face. "I didn't think I deserved you. Still don't, if I'm being honest." He smirked then, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. “But I’ve never been one to follow the fucking rules, and I’ve decided to start taking what I want. Turns out, the only thing in this fucking world that I want, is you.”
As I stood at the podium, looking out over the sea of black-clad mourners, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. The past week had been a whirlwind of feelings—grief, rage, fear, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. But now, facing the assembled criminal elite of the Southwest, I knew it was time to put on the mask of strength and control that would define my reign as the new head of the Cortez family.
The cemetery was beautiful, nestled in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light that seemed at odds with the somber occasion. Raul would have appreciated the view, I thought with a pang of sadness. He always did have an eye for aesthetics.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself before I began to speak. My voice rang out clear and strong, carrying easily over the assembled crowd. My eyes landed on my mother. She stood near the back, looking uncomfortable but resolute. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles white with tension. The black dress she wore was simple and elegant. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment, and I saw a flicker of something—pride, perhaps? Or maybe just resignation.
I had tried to convince her that she didn't have to come. The funeral of a cartel boss wasn't exactly a safe place for a civilian. But she had been adamant, insisting that she needed to be there. For me.
"I may not approve of your choices, Layla," she had said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "But you're my daughter. And I won't abandon you. Not ever."
Those words had dredged up years of buried pain, but they had also kindled a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe , there was a chance to rebuild what we lost.
Now, seeing her there among the sea of hardened criminals and hired muscle, I felt a surge of complicated emotions. Gratitude, for her willingness to step into my world, however reluctantly. Fear, for the danger she was putting herself in just by being here. And a fierce, protective love that surprised me.
"Raul Cortez was more than just a businessman, more than just a leader,” I said, my voice carrying over the soft breeze. “He was a visionary who saw potential where others saw only chaos. He built an empire from nothing, forging alliances and breaking barriers that many thought impossible."
I paused, letting my gaze sweep over the crowd. I could see the other family heads watching me intently, weighing and measuring every word, every gesture. They were here to pay their respects, yes, but also to gauge the strength of the new regime. I wouldn't give them any reason to doubt.
"He was my mentor, my protector, and the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I’m honored to take his place as the head of the Cortez family, effective immediately.”
I met the eyes of the four men in the front row that mean the fucking world to me. Sarge, Gage, River and Alex—men that would kill and slaughter for me. Who would set aside any sense of morality if I asked them to. Ruthless killers, savage criminals.
And all four of them, were fucking mine.