Page 38 of Fierce Monarch

“Tell him I’ll think on the terms he’s offering, when he didn’t uphold his end of the bargain?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Rafael sighed. “Technically, we did uphold our end of the bargain. You asked for information on Nate Black, and you were given what we had. Had you asked for Nate Beckstrom, you would’ve gotten something different.”

The world stilled, and that red haze from yesterday crept over me.

A loophole. He’d fucked me over with a loophole, and the only thing keeping me from wringing his neck with it was his father’s presence looming over us. The Wolf would not take kindly to his heir’s death.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I growled.

Rafael laughed, brittle and broken. “We’re not exactly honorable men, tesorita.”

“Funny, I thought you were.”

The barb struck home and he flinched, but it didn’t make me feel better.

I had almost no family I could trust and taking Rafael’s name off that short list hurt, but I had to do it. His priority would always be the Osorios, never me. I had to accept that.

Rafael would always be blood, but he was no longer family.

“How likely is the Wolf to offer aid anyway?” Dominic asked, balancing his chair on two legs and twirling a steak knife in one hand.

“Why are you acting like a five-year-old with sharp objects?” I asked.

He grinned, wide and a little on edge. “It’s fun.”

Which meant he wanted to mess with Emmanuel or possibly Rafael. I could’ve put a stop to it, but honestly, I didn’t care to. I wasn’t going to babysit Dominic today. If he wanted to fuck with the cartel, that was his business, as long as it didn’t blow back on me. “Whatever.”

I rolled my eyes, and he blew me a cheeky kiss. “Love you, mariposa.”

I didn’t respond, and he smiled bigger. At least Greyson cleared his throat. “Well? Is he going to help?”

There was something in how Rafael looked away that said how much faith he had that the Wolf would offer aid at all.

Namely, none.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re too scared to get on my bad side by telling me the truth,” I corrected because, frankly, we didn’t have time for this shit.

Rafael stared at me, a whole host of emotions in his eyes, before he looked away. A muscle in his jaw clenched as he nodded. “You’re right. I doubt he’ll offer aid at all.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t care about you or your father’s city.”

Dominic’s chair legs hit the floor with a loud thump as all four of us stood. The playful smile on his face was gone, replaced by the serious look of a true underboss as the door closed behind the Wolf. Suddenly, I was grateful to have Dominic and Grey at my side, stabilizing me for a meeting I never thought I’d have.

Emmanuel Osorio looked nothing like Rafael. It was almost shocking how different he looked from his son and how much he looked like me. Same eyes, same nose, same fierce gaze. Though he was obviously older—close to eighty, if I had to guess—he’d kept himself strong, even with the slight paunch that said he enjoyed the fruits of having a billion-dollar empire. But there was no way to mistake the look on his face.

This was a man who had no problem doing his own dirty work.

He swept through the room like a tidal wave and, when he was close enough, held his hand out to me. I took it immediately, giving him a proper shake. His fingers were bare except for two heavy gold rings, and when his callused palm met mine, I knew I was right.

Emmanuel Osorio was death made flesh.

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