Chapter 4 – Alejandro #2
“I already told you.” Her tone is flat, almost disinterested. “I wanted away from my ex and away from Philly. LA was the first bus leaving the station.”
That’s a rehearsed answer if ever I heard one. “Why did you target my wife?”
Her brows knit together. “I didn’t target her. She was nice to me. She cared.” Her jaw tightens. “I hadn’t felt that in a long time. I liked her before I even knew who she was.”
“And when you found out?”
She hesitates. “I know I should’ve backed off,” she admits. “I knew there was a chance you’d figure out who I was.”
“So why didn’t you?”
She looks me dead in the eye. “Because if I’m important to her, then maybe I’m important to you. And that keeps me—and my baby—safe.”
Her honesty catches me off guard. I lean back slowly, rubbing my jaw. That wasn’t manipulation, it was strategy, and I admire her way of thinking.
“Don’t judge me,” she adds quickly. “It’s self-preservation. I’ve been surviving on my own for eight years, and now I have a baby to think about, too.”
Her hand drifts to her belly, spreading over it protectively. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she says she’s been on her own for eight years when her father was only killed two years ago.
I nod once. “Tell me about the night your father and brothers were killed.”
Her composure fractures for half a second. Her lower lip trembles before she clamps down on it. “Eight men came into our house while we were sleeping,” she says. Her tone becomes distant. Clinical even. “Four of them were my father’s own men. They knew the codes. Knew where the guns were.”
She swallows.
I watch her intently for any clues that she’s lying and find none.
“They dragged us into the kitchen. My brothers fought. My dad fought.” Her hands grip the armrests. “They shot them in the head. One by one. When they shot my father…his brains…” She stops, blinking hard. “They were laughing. Wiping themselves off. That’s when I ran.”
I keep my face neutral. Inside, something cold and violent grips me. “Did you see who did it?”
She nods. “You handled them all, Mr. Montoya. Don’t worry.”
I don’t react. We handled the firm responsible but it wasn’t because of what they did to her family, and I won’t confirm that to her anyway. “You said you’ve been surviving alone for eight years. Why?”
Her expression hardens. “You’ve heard the rumors about my father.”
I have, but I don’t tell her that. Her father was a disgusting piece of shit who tortured his sons for fun. She shakes her head and goes on.
“You have, I’m sure. You know what he was, what he did. You think I was spared?” she continues. “You think being his daughter made me safe?”
Her silence after that says more than words.
“Your mother died when you were eight?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Her eyes darken. “He killed her.”
That’s new information. “I heard she overdosed.”
“He might not have forced the pills down her throat,” Lucia snaps, anger bleeding into her tone, “but he was the reason she did it.”
We sit in silence for a moment. Her story is painful, but I cannot let it move me. Not yet. Not until I know everything I need to know to ensure our safety, to protect Alana and my family.
“Does anyone else know you’re here?” I ask.
“Maybe Blake. And also maybe his cousin, Calvin.”
Calvin is already in the ground. She doesn’t need to know that either.
And someone somewhere must be protecting Blake because I still can’t find the piece of shit.
“If someone is still looking for you, they’ll find you eventually,” I tell her.
“And I cannot put my family at risk by allowing you to stay here.”
“I know that.” Her voice cracks slightly. “If I could just stay for a day or two until I figure something out? Maybe emancipation. Or…new papers.” She shrugs weakly. “Start over. Again. Somewhere new.”
She pretends it’s that simple. We both know it isn’t. She will always be a target unless someone protects her and, as she points out, her baby. A complete innocent. She is Lucia Ramos, the girl who got away. Her name could still attract trouble and draw enemies to our home.
Still, I can see she means it. That she will go as soon as she can. I believe she doesn’t want to cause trouble. She’s simply doing what she has to in order to survive.
I drag my hands through my hair because I already know I’m going to regret this. “You can stay,” I say finally. “For a few days. Until we can figure out find a more permanent solution.”
Her eyes widen in genuine shock. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll have my lawyer arrange temporary guardianship.”
She exhales like she’s been holding her breath in for the entire time we’ve been in here. “Thank you, Alejandro. I promise you won’t regret it.”
God, I fucking hope not. “But understand this,” I say, leaning forward. “If you live under my roof, you follow my rules.”
Her smile vanishes instantly. Fear floods her face. She grips the chair like she’s bracing for impact.
Bile rises in my throat. What the fuck has this girl been through to react like that? What have the men in her life taught her to expect?
“Like what?” she asks quietly.
“Like cleaning up after yourself. Respecting my privacy. Not leaving without security.”
Her shoulders slowly relax. “Oh.”
Her obvious relief tells me everything I need to know. “I can promise you,” I say evenly, “no harm will ever come to you in my house. While you’re under my protection, no one will touch you. No one will hurt you.”
Her eyes shine with happiness and relief. “Thank you, Alejandro.”
I nod toward the door. “Now go tell Alana the news.”
She stands, hesitates for a fraction of a second, then walks out, leaving me alone in the silence of my study.
I’ve negotiated with the most ruthless men in this country, destroyed plenty of them too. Yet somehow, the I’ve never been quite as unsettled as I was in the presence of a sixteen-year-old girl with haunted eyes who might have just outplayed me without even trying.
Alana is in our bedroom when I finish my shower.
I left Lucia to break the good news without me.
I wonder how long my wife has been standing there waiting to thank me.
Not long, I expect, given that she immediately runs over and throws her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me.
She rubs against me in a way that suggests she’d have joined me in that shower if she’d had the chance.
“Thank you,” she says, her lips against my neck. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
I drop my hands to her perfect ass and squeeze. “I already do, princesa.”
She looks up at me, blinking. “But why?”
“Because now I’m going to have to relax the no panty rule. I can’t have you walking around here with no panties when we have an impressionable teenager in the house now, can I?”
She giggles, her cheeks flushing the cutest shade of pink. “Oh, yeah, I suppose not. But, maybe we could change it to no panties in the bedroom.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Ever?”
“Ever,” she tells me with a sexy smile.
I run my hands over her ass, feeling the outline of her underwear. “You’re wearing panties right now,” I growl, lips pressed against her ear.
“Then we’d better rectify this situation immediately, sir,” she purrs against my neck, making my cock stiffen immediately. “Because I wouldn’t want to break the rules and have you spank me.”
Fuck, now all I can think about is spanking and fucking her, and I have a meeting to get to.
I pull her dress up to her waist before fisting my hands into her panties and tearing them over her silky soft skin, smiling to myself at the full body shiver it causes.
My hands are back on her ass, gloriously naked now.
As it should be. I let my palms run over it.
Her skin is so soft, it’s fucking begging to be spanked.
“I just remembered, I still owe you a spanking from last night, princesa,” I remind her, recalling how we were disturbed by Lucia’s arrival.
“Oh, yes, that’s right. You do.” She unwraps herself from my embrace and steps back with a wicked grin on her face. “Where would you like me? I don’t want you to think I’m avoiding my punishment.”
Fuck, this is torture. I want my hands on her all the damn time, and it’s becoming a problem. The best kind. “Unfortunately, I have a meeting I need to get to. Your spanking will have to wait until tonight. Don’t forget we have a dinner with the mayor and we’re staying at the hotel.”
“I know we do. I’m looking forward to it, but I didn’t realize you had to leave so soon this morning. Does this mean you’re just going to leave me all wet and needy for you? Am I going to have to take care of myself?” She pretends to pout, but the mischief in her eyes gives her away.
“No.” I pull my towel from my waist and toss it aside. “I’ve always got time to fuck you, princesa.”
I watch as a flush creeps over her neck and smile. “Come here,” I order and she obeys immediately, her chest flush against mine once more.
I wrap her hair around my fist before tilting her head to give me better access to her neck.
The expanse of creamy soft skin makes me want to bite her—hard.
Instead, I lick from her collarbone up to her ear and she shivers.
“You taste so fucking good, Alana,” I growl.
“I wish I had time to eat your pussy too.”
“So do I,” she groans.
I lift her by her ass cheeks until she wraps her legs around my waist and press her against the wall before sealing my lips over hers.
When I push my tongue inside her mouth, I wish it was her pussy I was tasting instead.
But I only have ten minutes to spare, and if I get my mouth on her I won’t leave this room for at least an hour.
A quick fuck is all I can afford. It’s not enough, but then ten hours isn’t enough when it comes to her.
I could fuck Alana every minute of every day and I would still want more.
With that thought in my head, I push my cock deep inside her soaking wet heat and she groans into my mouth. My princesa. My queen. My every-fucking-thing.