Page 92 of Wicked King

My new brother-in-law clears his throat once again, sliding to the edge of the cushion. “We need to discuss your operations in Lower Manhattan.”

“And anything you might know about Blanca Alvarez,” Marco adds.

A tendon in Esmeralda’s jaw feathers, but she keeps her expression a blank mask. “Yes, I am familiar with Blanca and her family. They are prominent people in San Juan, with roots in Colombia.”

“Great, the fucking cartel,” Marco mutters.

“When did she join your operation?” Nico’s question catches her off guard, and her smarmy smile wanes.

“How very astute of you, Mr. Rossi…”

“Well, we figured someone had to be leading the show in Manhattan.” Nico motions at the sprawling shoreline. “And as you seem to prefer your tropical hideaway, it wasn’t too difficult to connect the dots.” He pauses, his eyes, nearly the brilliant blue of the sea surrounding us, blazing. “Was it your idea to plant her as a housekeeper in my own home?”

Her eyes widen, the dark spheres piercing. Her hand twitches before she folds it in her lap. She doesn’t know.

I nudge my elbow into Marco’s side as his head slowly dips as if he’s come to the same conclusion.

Esmeralda uncrosses her legs and leans forward, dark gaze darting between both brothers. “I was not aware of this. Perhaps the leash across the ocean needs to be shortened.”

“We believe she instigated the attack at our wedding.” Marco’s voice sharpens like shards of glass crackling across the tile. “As you can imagine, she will be dealt with. That level of disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Esmeralda’s shiny façade falters, and she reaches for a sarong haphazardly tossed on a neighboring chair. As she slowly wraps it around her curves, the tension thickens.

“Unless you tell us otherwise, we are going to assume you had nothing to do with it, correct?” Marco slides to the edge of the couch, mirroring his brothers position, his mismatched eyes seared to the woman.

“Of course not.”

“Then it was just a coincidence you didn’t attend?” I blurt.

“I prefer not to leave the solace of my island home, as you’ve said.”

Marco grumbles beneath his breath.

“If you choose not to break ties with her,” Nico continues, “we will have no other choice than to take matters into our own hands. And just so that we’re clear, the Valentinos are onboard with whatever decision we make.”

“As well as the Four Seas, obviously,” I interject. “And I have no doubt that I could persuade the rest of the Chinese Triad to see it our way. Attempting to murder the new laodà is a sign of extreme disrespect.”

She swallows hard, the faint sound echoing through the sudden stillness.

“An attempt on the life of my bride is not something I take lightly, Esmeralda,” Marco growls and locks one hand onto my thigh. “The only reason Blanca’s blood isn’t painting the streets of Lower Manhattan already is out of respect for our past. The Geminis and La Sombra Boricua have always had a mutual understanding. I’d like to keep it that way, but Blanca continuing to breathe will not be part of the deal.”

“Feel free to call Luca or Dante and speak to them directly,” Nico adds, “but our half-brothers have promised their full support. And as Jia mentioned, the Chinese Triad will fall in line next. That would leave you with very few allies—or at least, trustworthy ones.” He shoots her a grin, and with the smart twist of his lips, he looks so much like Marco it’s unnerving.

“I will consider your terms,” she finally mutters. “But it seems my options are limited.”

“Trust me, Esmeralda, you do not want to make an enemy out of the Geminis.” My husband leans closer, eyes locked on her, and a vicious snarl curls his lip. “And on a more personal level, you do not want me as your enemy. A newly married man out of his mind in love with his new wife is not one to be fucked with.”

CHAPTER 43

STUPIDLY IN LOVE

Marco

Every tear that rolls down Jia’s cheek is like a stab to the heart. Dio, why did people desire to be in love? It’s the cruelest form of torture if you ask me.

Jia’s grandfather pulls her into his arms once more, holding her tight and whispering foreign words. The only one I recognize is baobèi, treasure, the term of endearment he always uses for his granddaughter. The name certainly is on point. I never thought I would love again after Isa, and because of that, Jia falling into my life has been a true treasure. Because as hard as it has been, what we have now is one hundred percent worth it.

“Do you really have to go already?” Jia glances at her grandfather, eyes red and swollen.

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