Page 2 of Burning Beauty

She twisted in her seat, peeking at the row of people sitting behind and across from her, taking up a good portion of the seating in the courtroom. Marc's family. She could tell by the venomous expressions and angry whispers that they weren't happy with the verdict. They wanted justice. They wanted her head on a platter.

"Of course, you were always going to be found not guilty. This entire trial was a farce, attempting to give the victim's family some semblance of justice." It took Maria a moment to realize that her attorney was speaking.

He was an intelligent man, more than capable of handling Maria's case. It had taken every penny of her mother's inheritance to both her and her brother to pay for his services, but it had been worth it. The man had more than done his job, ensuring that Maria wouldn't see a single day behind bars. Of course, she'd had to pay bail, but he said she would get that money back. Which was a good thing since she had to pay back her aunt, who had lent it to her.

Maria nodded absently, her eyes still on Marc's family. Marc's mother was weeping loudly while Marc's brother was trying to calm her. The father was staring into nothing, his expression blank. Maria shivered. "Thank you for everything you've done."

"No need to thank me, I was doing my job."

"Still, I appreciate it."

He studied her intently, taking in her pale features and the clothes that hung far more loosely on her frame than they had five months ago when she first engaged his services. "What will you do now?" he asked gently.

Maria shrugged and looked away from Marc's family, feeling uneasy. They were considered pillars of the community and could make life very uncomfortable for her. She focused on her lawyer instead, thinking over his words. What now? Being charged with murder and the subsequent trial had held her entire focus for half a year. Now that she was essentially free, she wasn't sure what she was going to do, or even what she could afford to do. She’d spent every penny on the trial, so she was essentially destitute. But that seemed the least of her worries; she was pretty sure Marc’s family would try to make her life a living hell. "Ruiz wants to travel to the US, maybe even move there. I thought about going with him."

"Legally?" her lawyer asked sharply, frowning.

Maria smiled wanly and nodded her head. "Yes, legally. I don't want to cross the border any other way."

He seemed to relax at her assurance, and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. "Well, good luck to you both, if that's where your journey takes you." His dark eyes held hers, and she had a moment to appreciate his exhaustion, how much of himself that he poured into the trial to ensure a not guilty verdict. "Just remember, Maria. You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. This tragedy doesn’t need to define you. Go and do something incredible with your life."

She absorbed his words, taking them deep inside and mentally hugging them. He was right. She was only twenty years old. She could do anything she wanted. Marc's death wasn't the end of her life.

"Thank you," she said again, sincerely.

They both stood, shook hands and parted ways. Maria turned and walked into the warm embrace of her brother Ruiz, for once appreciating the bone crushing hug he was treating her to. He kissed the side of her head and then held her away from him.

"You won," he said happily.

She shook her head and glanced sideways at Marc's people. "There are no winners here."

Ruiz nodded wisely and said, "But you can get on with your life, and that's what's important. Come on, let's get out of here."

They left the courtroom and made their way outside. It wasn't until they reached the steps of the courthouse that Maria finally ran into Marc's parents face to face, after months of accusations and slander. She froze, didn't know what to do. She understood their hate. Sometimes she hated herself too.

"That was not justice," Inez shouted, her voice so loud and wobbly that it was almost incoherent. "That was a joke!" She pointed her finger at Maria and screamed, "You killed my son and you get to walk around like a proud little bitch. Like you didn't ruin all of our lives."

"Señora Carrero...," Maria whispered shakily, holding a hand on her brother's arm to stop him from defending her. She'd been friends with the older woman before Marc's death. Maria had been the daughter Inez had always wanted.

Maria wasn't able to stop the attack when it came, since there was no one standing between her and Marc's mother. The slap rocked her so hard she was flung back into Ruiz, who was knocked off balance. He had to let Maria go and grab for a railing to stop himself from falling, which left Maria open to another attack. Inez's fist collided with the side of her face and she was flung onto the stone steps of the courthouse.

Maria's ears rang and she tasted blood from where her lip was split open. She tried to curl into a ball but that didn't stop a boot from striking her in the ribs and stealing her breath. From a distance she heard some kind of commotion and thought perhaps it was the courthouse authorities rushing down the steps. Before they could arrive, the face of Paulo Carrero, Marc's father's, filled Maria's vision and he spoke to her for the first time since the night Marc died.

"You will die, you little whore, and you'll do it by my hand. I promise you this."

He straightened, took his wife's arm and rushed her down the steps before she could be arrested for assault. Maria flinched when someone grabbed her and then let out a sob when she realized it was her brother. He hugged her against his chest and rocked her as she cried.

"I'll keep you safe, hermana. Don't you worry about anything."

Chapter One

Five years later

"What is this?" Nic asked coldly, not bothering to pick up the file his man placed on the desk in front of him. Luke would fill him in with the essentials.

"You were right," Luke told him. "Franco Delgado is planning to set you up in Las Vegas when you attend the meet."

His second stood stiffly, his hands behind his back, his gaze straight ahead. Though they’d become friendly over the years, they were far from friends. Nic didn’t have friends, he had employees and business associates. Luke was the former. Once a person stopped being useful to Nic, they stopped. Period.

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