Page 21 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

I pull my shoulders back with a renewed vigor, then swallow harshly and clear my throat. “I don’t need it anymore, Carlos. I only need you. You and our son.” I nod at him, hoping my words appease him.

“Romero,” he states, and I furrow my brow. “Our son, I want to name him Romero after my brother.”

“Romero,” I repeat with a nod while stroking over my bump. “You don’t talk about them.” I know Carlos has suffered the loss of his family, and I hate that for him. One night when he was drunk, he told me they were hurt, and as a small boy, he saw it happen. He divulged no more information than that, and as time moves on with him, I’ve come to the conclusion that he fears me knowing what happened, so he pretends they never existed.

He entwines our hands and kisses my fingers. “I have everything I need right here.”

“Why did Owen ask to meet with you?”

His lips move over my hand. “Simple, he wants you.”

My heart catches in my chest as I stare at him, then a strangled laugh escapes me while he narrows his gaze on me. “Owen does not want me.”

His lip quirks, and he tilts his head. “Oh, I can assure you he does.” His tone is serious, and the intensity behind his eyes is like something I’ve never seen before. It terrifies me. The man I’ve grown to love is about to go to war with the man I’ve always loved. “He can try to take you from me, but he’ll soon learn how far I’m willing to go to keep you.” My gaze flicks back and forth over his face. “You and Romero are my world, and I intend to keep it that way.” He kisses my hand, as if trying to reassure me, but there’s something about the way he speaks that unnerves me, an undercurrent that fills me with uncertainty.

I turn away and stare out the window, hoping he doesn’t see the way trepidation is bleeding from my pores, then realize where we are. Turning to face him, I ask, “Why are we at an airfield?”

He lifts my hand once more. “We’re moving to our forever home, mi amor. It’s in Mexico.”

Shock hits me and pain lances through me and into my stomach, and I cry out. We’re moving even farther away from my family, making me even more lonely and isolated than ever before.

“It’s okay, mi amor, everything is waiting for us at home.” It’s the last thing I remember as my vision turns hazy and blackness consumes me.

SEVEN

CARLOS

TWO MONTHS LATER

The sun beams down on us as Laya nurses Romero beneath a towel, and my heart swells with pride. She’s an incredible mother. Everything I wish my own had been to me. Affection pours from her like second nature, and while I continue to cocoon my family in a bubble of security, the underlying simmer of my impending doom eats away at me.

Nico takes another sip of his drink, then glances over his shoulder toward Laya on the sunbed, and anger floods my veins. Despite knowing he’s happily married and doesn’t see Laya that way, I can’t help but want to rip the skin from his body for even glancing in her direction. His focus comes back to me, and I take a drink of my scotch to remain calm. Lately, I’ve been unraveling. I thought bringing Laya and Romero to Mexico would provide me with the reassurance I desperately need tocontinue with my business plans, but the mere thought of those plans has me tetchy, yet I refuse to admit it.

“Laya, take Romero inside.” Her eyes narrow on me, and when I think my wife will argue, she merely nods and walks away with our son, and I watch her ass sway as she steps inside the house.

Nico places his hand inside his jacket pocket, then throws a block of cocaine onto the table. His dark eyes meet mine, and his jaw clenches tight. “What the fuck are you playing at?” The Carrera family insignia is stamped on the foil packaging, and the familiar combination of guilt and anger floods me. It’s deadly, fierce, and self-destructive.

Nico has been like a brother to me, and while I appreciate his concern, this is really none of his fucking business, but he’s treating it as such.

When I make no move to justify my actions, he drags a hand over his face with a sigh, then leans over the table. “Fuck, Carlos. Are you for real?” He glares at me while I remain stoic. It’s an expression I have mastered since the moment I witnessed my family being slaughtered. “Carlos. I love you like a brother, but I can’t stand by and be dragged into this shit.” He points toward the cocaine.

I take another sip of my drink. “Then don’t.” I shrug while my heart thunders away. The last thing I want is for Nico to leave my side. He’s family. When his father took me in, my inheritance was tied up until I was twenty-one, then I moved out and set about creating my empire, one my family would have been proud of, no matter the consequences. I lost my way a few times, with drink, drugs, and women, but Nico has always been the one to help me find myself again, as I did him when he split with his ex, Carmen.

“You’re risking too much, Carlos.” He shakes his head. “These people do not play around.”

I scoff at the notion. “And we do?” I lift an eyebrow in his direction.

He shakes his head. “They’re scum,” he spits out with a sneer. “Human fucking traffickers.” His face contorts in disgust. “You know it. I know it, and I refuse to have anything to do with them, and I’m surprised you’re willing to.” He sits back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

The way he looks like a petulant child makes me chuckle as I take another sip of the scotch. “I have it under control.” My smirk tells him everything he needs to know; I have leverage on them.

“Carlos, this isn’t a fucking game.”

I sit forward, angered at his words. Does he think I don’t know that? My family died because of a business deal gone wrong. “You don’t think I fucking know that?” I jab my finger into my chest as I bellow, then grimace at the thought of Laya overhearing.

“They’re just moving product within my club, nothing major.”

He leans over the table, his eyes boring into mine. “Nothing. Fucking. Major?”

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