Page 25 of Hostile King

“Sign the prenup, marry the girl, and then all this bullshit will be over before you know it.” Shane tries to placate my viperish mood. “After it’s done and dusted, we’ll take a trip to Vegas, or Miami…or Dublin. Just me and you. Like nothing has changed.”

But everything has changed.

My chest aches. How can I forget about Carina? I’m ignoring the principles my uncle drilled into me—to listen to my instincts. I’m obsessed with one woman and preparing to recite false vows to another.

Angelo was notorious for putting business first and women second. To him they were simple—sexual entertainment. Even his ex-model wife was a show pony who lurked in the background wearing skimpy bikinis and inhaling bricks of cocaine.

Becoming the biggest narco in Colombia was his priority, not finding a fitting queen to rule his kingdom by his side.

That was his path. His choice. His gut instincts.

And they were once mine.

Opening the passenger door, I step out into the sunshine and shield my eyes with a pair of sunglasses. This sham of a marriage will be a shitshow from the get-go. Despite the humidity, snowflakes powder my shoulders as they roll back.

My posture straightens adding a few more inches of height. It’s time to stop letting my weakness get in the way of my reign. This is a tactical business move to benefit everyone.

Feelings are too messy.

Emotions are a distraction.

Love ends in death.

Sucking in humid air to steady my whirling chaos, I glance at Shane and nod. “I’ll sign the papers and then we’re out of here.”

Together, we enter the modern building, him pushing the buzzer to open the door ahead of me while I pocket my hands.

“Tomás.” Esteban strolls into the airy reception area wearing a pinstripe power suit.

Behind him framed photographs of celebrities and wealthy clients litter a bright blue wall. Curly hair scattered with threads of gray shows signs of the lawyer’s years and round tortoise shell frames rest on the bridge of his sharp nose.

“Good to see you again.” He offers me his hand. “I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your stunning fiancé.” His salt-and-pepper mustache twitches as he smiles up at me. “Lucky man.”

Hostility and decorum play tug-of-war behind my tight ribcage. This particular lawyer has served my family well over the years, loyal and helpful at every turn. It’s not his fault my soon-to-be wife is an inconvenience.

He looks at me with silvery blue eyes, unsure why I haven’t spoken. “Can I offer you a drink, Tomás?” His leathery brow creases.

I clear my throat, finger the button on my shirt collar and return his handshake with a solid grip. “A whiskey.”

“Of course. Bianca is waiting in my office with her brother.” He waves an arm behind him to usher me further into the building. “Please, go through.”

“Can you give me a few minutes alone with the Morales’?” I take the lead, doing my best to play it cool. It’s difficult when my pulse thrums with anger. I’ve known this man for a long time. However, I’d rather not have an audience when I meet Bianca for the first time.

“Certainly. You know where the liquor is.” He nods in my direction and takes a left, whereas Shane and I continue to the end of the short corridor.

I don’t knock before entering. I’d learned a long time ago that I didn't need to, unless I wanted to enter Papá’s office.

That was a whole other experience.

The second we stroll into the bright conference room, Mikel’s brown-black gaze hunts out mine, narrowing as it meets my business-like countenance.

“Souza.” He nods respectfully and stands from the seat that faces a minimalist sheet of glass curved at either end to create a sleek boardroom table.

Just like my brothers and I, he was born into excessive wealth and raised with a gun in his hand. We’re of the same respected breeding, run the same illegal businesses, and by the look of it, lift the same weights.

Except this guy is a twenty-something-year-old pretty boy who I wouldn’t trust to look after my dogs.

“It’s about time you met my little sister,” he deadpans, with those chocolate-colored Morales family eyes taking me in.

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