The L.A. Queen's Reign

Chapter 1 – Alana

Chapter

One

ALANA

My pulse throbs in my temples and blood rushes in my ears. I can do nothing but stare at my husband.

Alejandro Montoya is the King of LA, and he made me believe I was his queen.

I’m the woman he’s supposed to share everything with, even his secrets.

So, what the hell am I missing here? He’s not cruel for no reason, so why has he taken such an aversion to a pregnant sixteen-year-old girl?

And why is he saying this is not a household issue?

Lucy is outside at the gates. Alone, and no doubt scared. She’s supposed to be with her foster family now, safe and protected. Not outside our house in the dark, asking to be let in. So, why is she here, and more importantly, why is Alejandro turning her away?

“What kind of issue is it?” I ask when I finally find my voice. “Why won’t you let Lucy in here?”

His tongue darts out of his mouth, and he licks his lower lip before running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

“Because her name isn’t Lucy, for a start. She’s not who you think she is, Alana.”

That makes no sense. I don’t even know all that much about her other than that she’s a pregnant young girl, which is blatantly obvious. Clearly he knows something about her that I don’t. My head spins and my stomach sinks. “Then who is she?”

Alejandro’s eyes are fixed on mine, and I instinctively know this is not going to be good. He stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets, eyes darting between me and his driver, Jacob, who’s still waiting for a final decision on whether Lucy should be allowed in or not.

My heart is hammering in my chest as possible scenarios run through my head, none of which I like. “Alejandro, who is she?” I ask again, the tremor in my voice audible.

He shakes his head and sighs “Let her in,” he tells Jacob, who quickly hurries from the room. Then Alejandro gives me his full attention. “Let’s see if she’s honest enough to tell you herself.”

He slips his hand into mine and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

While I don’t press him further, a multitude of questions and assumptions race around my head.

At this point I have no idea of what I’m about to discover.

He glares at the open doorway with his free hand in his pocket and his feet planted wide apart, looking like he’s prepared for battle.

I swallow the knot of anxiety lodged in my throat.

Is he nervous? Maybe.

Angry? Most definitely. It radiates from him in waves. It’s hard to believe that just a few minutes ago we were lying on the sofa, with me giggling and waiting for him to tear my panties off.

I’d quite like to shake him and demand answers, but I think a part of me is too afraid to find out why a sixteen-year-old pregnant girl made him react this way.

There’s one thought lingering in the back of my mind, too awful to contemplate.

One that I’m ashamed to even consider, niggling at me like a persistent fly on a hot summer day.

Each time I swat it away, it comes back.

What if the baby is his?

A moment later, Lucy is shown into the room. Alejandro snarls at her presence. Actually snarls. But she ignores him and stares straight at me, her eyes brimming with tears.

Instinctively, I cross the room to her. “Lucy. Are you okay?”

She wipes the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. “Yes, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Then you should take a seat,” Alejandro says, his tone cool and calm and dangerous. “And then you can tell us both why you’re really here, can’t you, Lucia?”

Lucia? The name seems to startle her, and she spins to face him.

Her face pales and she visibly starts to tremble, but then, just as quickly, her demeanor changes once more.

She rolls back her shoulders, regaining her composure and transforming in front of my eyes.

Her jaw tilts in defiance as she tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “So you know who I am?”

I glance between her and my husband, wishing one of them would tell me what the hell is going on here.

Alejandro scowls. “Of course I know who you are. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out? I take a particular interest in anyone who gets close to my wife, and you of all people should know that.”

Her eyes narrow. There’s something going on between them that I don’t understand.

My stomach is rolling, but I push away the anxiety and remind myself this is my husband, and my home. I am not a spectator at this show, and I have every right to ask questions. “Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” I demand, tired of whatever game is being played here.

“Tell her,” Alejandro barks.

Lucy shifts from one foot to the other, a little of her vulnerability peeking through again. Or perhaps that’s just an act she puts on for me. My heart starts to hammer so violently in my chest I think that she and Alejandro must be able to hear it too.

“My name is Lucia Ramos, not Lucy Callaghan. I’m from Philadelphia, not Chicago. My parents didn’t die in a car crash. My mom died when I was eight, and my father and brothers were murdered when I was fourteen. I’m the only surviving member of the Ramos family.”

“Ramos?” I repeat. The name sounds familiar to me, although I can’t pinpoint why.

“Yes,” she says sadly.

“Why do I recognize that name?”

“Because they made themselves quite the name in Philadelphia. At least until two years ago when the entire family was wiped out. All except little Lucia here,” Alejandro answers.

I recall that story from the news now. It was widely reported at the time in the papers and on the TV.

A father and two sons were slaughtered in a gangland style execution in their own home.

The body of his teenage daughter was never recovered, and she was assumed to have been kidnapped and murdered.

I often wondered about the fate of that poor girl and don’t know how many times I prayed that she’d escaped.

And now she’s standing right here in our den.

“Please, have a seat, Lucia,” Alejandro says again as he indicates the armchair, his tone a little calmer now. “And tell us what really brought you to LA, and why you decided to drag my wife, and by association me, into your mess of a life.”

I shoot him a look of annoyance. She might have lied to me, to all of us, but she’s still just a child who endured the kind of thing no kid should ever have to.

Does he have no compassion for her? Or is he just putting on a front?

I of all people know how good he is at hiding what he’s really feeling.

Lucia finally takes a seat on the armchair, and Alejandro takes my hand and guides me to the sofa to sit beside him. I’m thankful to have something solid beneath me because my knees are shaking.

Lucia blinks at us, looking both fierce and helpless as she picks at the skin of her fingernails.

“What happened in Philadelphia the night your father and brothers were murdered?” Alejandro asks her, gently probing rather than demanding.

Perhaps he does have some compassion in his heart.

Well, of course he does, even if he doesn’t like to show it to the outside world.

It’s one of the many reasons I love him.

Lucia swallows and then holds his gaze, determined and defiant even though this must be impossibly difficult for her to talk about. “When those men came, I hid. I heard my father and my brothers being slaughtered, and when they came for me, I ran.”

Alejandro frowns. “And that’s it? You just ran and they never caught up with you?”

Lucia glares at him. “I used to run track for my high school. I was the best in the district. I also knew my neighborhood better than any of those goons. So I ran, and then I hid. I lived on the streets for a few weeks until the heat died down a little. But I knew I needed a long-term plan. It was only a matter of time before my father’s enemies came looking for me, or the state found me and put me into care–and then I’d be a sitting duck.

So I went to see one of my brother’s friends, Blake.

I thought that he’d be able to look out for me.

And at first, he did. He got me false papers.

He told me he loved me. We were planning to move to Boston and get married.

But it seemed he was just after the kudos that marrying a Ramos would give him.

He was still seeing his ex-girlfriend behind my back.

I caught them fucking and laughing about what a sucker I was.

So, I ran. Again. I caught a bus and then ended up here in LA. ”

How she’s managed to survive all of that is incredible, and so sad it makes my heart break for her.

No child should ever have to endure what she did, and despite how matter-of-factly she tells her story, I know experiencing such a terrible tragedy must have scarred her irrevocably.

However, Alejandro doesn’t seem to share my concern, and his eyes are narrowed in suspicion as he stares at her.

“Do you expect me to believe it was a coincidence that you ended up in the shelter where my wife works?”

Before I can tell him that he’s being unfair and judgmental, Lucia is already answering his question.

“Whether you believe it or not, it was a coincidence. And yes, it was a fortunate one for me, I’ll agree, but I couldn’t have known that at the time, could I?

I had no idea how you’d react to me being a Ramos. ”

Alejandro remains quiet, still regarding her intently.

“But why would Lucia seek either of us out?” I ask him, still bewildered by this whole situation.

Lucia tips her chin.

Alejandro rolls his shoulders. “Because, Alana, the people who murdered Lucia’s family caused us some problems in Philadelphia. They were our biggest competition. And, as Lucia well knows, sometimes our enemy’s enemy can be our greatest ally.”

“So they’re you’re rivals?” I ask.

“They were,” he replies, deadpan.

Lucia snorts a laugh. “Yeah, before their boss and his second had their heads chopped off and put on spikes a few months back.”

Alejandro flashes her a look and she stops laughing and clamps her mouth shut in a dramatic, teenage fashion.

“They had what?” My eyes dart between Lucia and my husband. “Did you have anything to do with that?” I ask him.

“Now is not the time, princesa” he says quietly, almost under his breath. I should have known better than to ask such a question in front of Lucia, but I’m feeling completely out of my depth here.

Alejandro reaches for my hand and laces his fingers through mine before giving it a firm squeeze, reminding me that we’re in this together.

Yes, there are things I’m in the dark about right now, but I trust this man in every way that matters.

He directs his attention toward our house guest once more.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say I believe you ended up in LA and at the shelter by chance.

What brings you here to our door tonight?

Don’t you have a foster family you should be with right now? ”

“Oh, yeah, that,” she says, and that glimpse of vulnerability is back, shimmering beneath the coat of armor she’s had to develop to survive in this world alone.

She sniffs. “I hate that place, and they hate me too. They tried to force me to go to church and told me I need to repent for my sins.” She rubs a hand over her pregnant belly, and I’m struck by how fragile and strong she is all at once.

How dare anyone make her feel bad about her choices?

“They made me read the Bible after dinner too. And the guy is a creep.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “A creep how?”

She shudders. “Just the way he goes on about sinning and Jesus and all. He’s always staring at me.”

Okay, well now there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting her go back there.

“You can’t just run away,” Alejandro says. “Did you even tell them you were leaving?”

She shakes her head.

“They’ll probably be worried about you though. You should call them,” I suggest, if only so they don’t involve the police and she ends up in more trouble. I won’t make her go back to a creep, but her just running away could make things worse.

Her pleading brown eyes fix on mine. “I’ll call them, but can’t I just stay here with you guys tonight?”

“No,” Alejandro replies immediately.

I rest my hand on his thigh. “Maybe just for tonight? It is late, and then we can work out something more suitable tomorrow.”

Alejandro shakes his head. “No.”

“Please?” Lucia pleads.

He doesn’t reply.

I squeeze his thigh, my fingertips gently pressing into his taut muscle. “Alejandro, it’s just one night.”

After what feels like minutes, he rolls his eyes. “Fine. For one night. Then you’re out of here and back to your foster family, Lucia. And if you don’t like that one, I’ll have someone find you a new one.”

She nods, a smile on her face as it floods with relief. “Thank you.”

“You’ll still need to call them and let them know,” I remind her.

“Of course. Can I borrow your cell?”

“Where’s yours?” I ask her, aware that she has one. No teenager I know would be without their cellphone for more than five minutes.

“The Bakers took it from me. They said it was too much temptation. In case I spoke to any boys.” She pulls a disgusted face and looks down at her rounded belly. “Like I’d want anything to do with any boys.”

“They took your phone?” I ask, incredulous that they’d do that to her after everything she’s been through. Alejandro’s lawyer assured me that the Bakers were a good family, but I guess our ideas of what that looks like might differ wildly.

She won’t be going back there, though. It will happen over my dead body, and if Alejandro has a problem with that, then I’ll just have to figure a way to make him not have a problem with it.

I’m sure I can think of a few ways to win him over.