Page 30 of Hostile King

“Tomás?” Bianca’s pale pink nails skim my elbow. I move away immediately, the gentle sensation unwanted. “Look…I get this is weird. We don’t even know each other, but can you at least pretend this is something you want while my family is here?” She leans into me, smelling like coconut and hairspray. “I asked you a question.”

I hide the screen lit up with Carina’s contemplative expression and make a mental note to send it to my personal data cloud should I need to dispose of the phone in a hurry.

“You’re right. I don’t want this. It was something I agreed to before my father died. Things have changed.” My gaze drifts to Bianca’s. “But we’ll figure it out.”

She closes her eyes briefly so glittery green lids hide her look of disdain. “I’d like to make it work. I asked if your plans include children.” The chatter of guests grows too loud, their frivolous conversations swallowing her next statement. “I’d love to have kids.”

The shirt collar around my neck tightens. I fiddle with the top button until it loosens and then sit back in my seat. Our long table faces the guests, its position representing a stage so we’re on display like two trapped creatures in a grim circus ring.

“I’m not interested in kids.” I push my uneaten meal away and sense her entire body recoil at my candid revelation. “Why would you want to bring a child into this? It’s a marriage of convenience, not a love story.”

Her lustrous hair, straightened like sheets of black glass sways when she pivots on her seat to face me head on. “So, you really are a heartless bastard? Your reputation precedes you, Tomás. I’m a part of this setup as well. This is my future too.” She crumples the linen napkin on her lap with a tight fist. “I’m sick and tired of high and mighty men trying to rule my life. I was hoping we could develop an understanding.”

I shrug, completely ambivalent at this point. With the way I’m feeling, I’d happily kill a few fuckers to see if it helps ease the pain in my chest.

“You're a good-looking man.” Her tongue skates between her lips. “It won’t be a challenge to be the strong wife you deserve. However, that works both ways. I’ll have your back, if you have mine.” The heat of her suggestion does nothing to warm the icy skin under my suit. It hasn’t felt blazing heat since I’d fucked Carina on top of Papá’s burial chamber. “A war would not benefit either of us.” Bianca continues.

“You’re right.” I rotate my cufflinks. “Let’s not forget why we’re doing this. I’ll never fall in love with you, Bianca. And fathering a child is not a priority. In fact, it’s not even on my radar right now.”

I can’t bring myself to imagine having a child with a woman I feel nothing for.

Her forehead furrows as her mouth contorts to a thoughtful grimace. It’s not her fault a legion of gargoyles surrounds my blackened heart. I’m not trying to be an asshole, but the woman needs to know where she stands…miles behind the woman I’d pushed away.

“Perhaps we should focus on respect first. We can offer each other that at least,” she suggests, forking a slice of beef.

I nod. “Agreed. When you become a Souza, you’ll have all the respect in the world.”

A violent shudder jangles my bones when I think about our wedding night and the physical act of screwing my new wife. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but that was before I proposed an indecent situation to a young woman, and she accepted.

I clear my throat to hide the resentment simmering under the surface of my cold demeanor. While I’d tried to become Carina’s unforgettable first, the roles somehow had reversed, and she became mine in so many ways.

A rowdy commotion from outside the room has my men twitching for their weapons. When the doors fling open, I look into the carpeted hallway beyond the guest tables to watch my mother strut towards the banquet hall in her high heels.

Her glitzy silver gown is nothing short of lavish, and her arm is locked onto the bodyguard she’s kept close to her side for years. Behind them, I catch a glimpse of André, dressed in a three-piece suit with a bold mustard yellow shirt.

My pulse catches fire as my family draws closer, almost lifting from my seated position to see whose arm is linked with his. Shock freezes me to the spot beside the wrong girl.

He’s with my woman—my Cari.She’s here.

Every man in the room notices her arrival. They all stare, in awe of the goddess on my brother's arm. My heart rate goes berserk, and my dick turns to steel. Her fierce eyes glimmer under showy chandeliers with an unblemished complexion radiating ethereal beauty.

She’s stunning.

Fucking gorgeous in the flesh.

I go to stand, but I can’t feel my legs. The sight of her spears my ribs, punctures my heart, and forces the liquid in my veins to pump faster, so my scorching blood blazes to my skin. I’ve fucked the innocence from her soul and yet she’s risen from the embers as a mesmerizing creature.

An angel, so desirable that she brainwashes these monsters into believing she’s sacrosanct.

Carina strides into the room, shoulders back and her chin high, wearing breathless confidence and a classic ruby tiara where a crown should sit. Smooth sable hair is fixed into a high ponytail, the long lengths pouring down her spine in a hydrous flow.

My eyes are all over her, awestruck by the strip of black silk encircling her neck as a gothic choker to hide my unforgiving fingerprints. It leads to a web of filigree lace that covers her arms and chest. The snug fit clings to the curves I know to be bruised beneath the fabric.

The flesh I’ve feasted on and still crave more.

No one, except for Bianca, witnesses the wind leave my lungs in a gust when Carina’s tongue thoughtlessly skates between her lips. I cough into my fist to garner a degree of composure, doing my best to hide the chaos running riot within me. When Bianca rests her hand on my arm, I shirk it off immediately.

I’m a mess.

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