Page 28 of Kiss of the Cartel

Epilogue

Lena

Two years later

“Arturo.”

I approach the man laboriously and try to climb onto the seat next to him. He’s sitting at the bar in my and Luis’ home, waiting for my husband who is currently out on business. Arturo heaves an annoyed sigh and gets up to help me onto the stool. He acts like this is a grievous task, when we both know he can’t wait for the arrival of baby Manuel (or Manuela as I have argued is a possibility). His hands are gentle as he lifts me onto the stool and makes sure that I’m steady before dropping back onto his own chair.

He eyes me suspiciously as he sips at his drink; I think it’s a gin and tonic since its clear and I’ve never known Arturo to willingly drink water. “What do you want?” His voice is gruff though his eyes soften as they dip toward my prominent belly.

Arturo and I have developed an understanding. We don’t have to like each other, but we both care about the same man, the well-being of this family and the entire cartel. In that, we acknowledge that we are stronger together than at odds. Sometimes I think Arturo is ashamed of the way he treated me after I was taken to the dungeon, back when Luis was steeped in confusion and grief. He knows that I did everything I could, that essentially, I’d saved both of their lives by acting so quickly. He hides his shame behind a mask of loathing. Though, since the wedding he has been better. And since finding out about the baby, he’s been downright pleasant to me.

“I need your help.”

“My help?” he sneers. “Why don’t you go ask your pussy whipped husband.”

“I would,” I say calmly. “But I need someone dead and we both know how Luis feels about me getting my hands dirty. Especially while I’m pregnant.”

I have Arturo’s full attention now. He turns on his seat to face me. “I’m listening.” He absently reaches for his drink and takes a healthy gulp while his sharp eyes assess me. “Still don’t know why you won’t talk to Luis though. He’d kill the fucking pope for you.”

I rub low on my belly and wish there was a back to the stool. Since I hit seven months my belly seems to have exploded outward. My poor back has been taking the brunt of the growth, going from zero to intense pain in seconds if my body doesn’t settle well into a particular position.

“Yes, he would,” I say calmly. “But he’s king of this territory. Under intense scrutiny from enemies and allies alike. He can’t misstep. The man I want dead is untouchable, his life has been sanctioned. Luis can't kill him without good reason. Not without weakening his position in the eyes of our rivals.”

Arturo sucks in a breath. “Who?” he demands.

“Renaldo Garcia.”

Arturo stares at me. I can see the gears in his brain working as he absorbs the implication of what I’m proposing. Arturo may come across as slow, but I know better. He lacks impulse control, but he isn’t stupid.

“Luis pardoned Renaldo himself. He can’t touch the man or what’s left of that family.”

“No, he can’t,” I agree. “So Renaldo’s death can’t look like it has anything to do with this family.”

Arturo nods absently, as he thinks. Then his eyes flash to mine. “Didn’t like that we left him alive. I know why Luis made that decision, but Renaldo feels like a loose end.”

“Yes,” I say coolly, rubbing my hand over the peak of my belly and resting it just below my breasts, a consciously maternal gesture. Arturo’s eyes follow the movement. “A loose end that holds a grudge against this family. One day he might go after its most vulnerable member.”

Arturo sighs heavily and rubs a hand over his forehead, before looking back at me. I know he doesn’t like doing this kind of work without my husband’s express consent. I don’t like it either. But what Luis doesn’t know, can’t come back to hurt him. And I will do anything, sacrifice anything, to protect my small family. The people that I love.

“Consider it done,” Arturo finally says after a moment of heavy contemplation. “It’ll look like an accident.”

I smile my relief and reach out to squeeze Arturo’s arm. “Thank you. You’re going to be the best godfather a baby could have.”

He grins back, his face turning almost boyish at the prospect of becoming a godfather to our child. It had already been decided, but this is the first time I’ve acknowledged Luis’ decision.

“Help me up,” I say, sliding foreword off the stool. “These fucking bar chairs are murder on my back.”

Arturo takes my arm in a light grip and holds his other hand against my back, helping me slide off the stool. I nearly sigh in relief as I straighten and then groan out loud as the pain in my feet hits. I’m so over this pregnancy. I hope that Luis is fine with only having one, because fuck this bullshit, pregnancy is the worst. I know for a fact I’m not glowing except for the constant sweat that beads my forehead. And while I am excited to meet my little one, I wish to god I didn’t have another month to go.

“Why exactly are you touching my wife?”

Luis’ voice comes from behind us. He sounds casual but we all know better. Luis doesn’t like anyone touching me. Only him. Always him. And I’m fine with this. I love my husband’s hands, whether they’re bringing me to orgasm or simply soothing an ache.

Arturo drops his hands as though I’m on fire and steps away from me. “Was just helping her off the fucking stool. But good to know you’re okay with her falling. Fuck man, you need to chill.” Arturo picks up his drink and drains it.

I step away from the bar and face my husband. He’s eyeing us both suspiciously. Not like he thinks we were fucking around on him, he knows he’s the only man for me. No, he thinks we’re up to something. I smile softly and walk toward him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I bury my nose against his jacket. He smells like leather, fresh air and Luis. A mouth-watering combination. I go on my tiptoes and kiss his throat.

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