Page 42 of Hostile King

Little does she know it's the complete opposite. It’s the very thing that makes me powerless, until now. I rub the sullied spot over my heart and tingle from my scalp to my toes.

“It was consensual.” I swallow the truth and fold my arms to anchor me in place. “I didn’t hurt her. The broken mirror did that. She’s just some girl André brought to the dinner.”

Her brows snap together. “Bullshit!” I stay silent even though her show of disrespect shouldn’t be ignored. “I saw the look on your face when she arrived. You have feelings for her. And whatever the hell’s between the two of you is fucked up.”

“And that's the problem. Itisfucked up. But it’sourfucked up. No one could possibly understand it.” My veins run hot and cold. “The wedding is off, Bianca. I’ve decided weddings aren’t my thing. I’m telling you first before your uncle starts a feud with my family.”

“He didn't start the war, Tomás. The Souzas did. Elias murdered one of our men. He broke confidence. And now you’re embarrassing the Morales family name by calling off our engagement on the night of the damn rehearsal.”

“It's nothing personal.”

“Of course, it’s personal. They all expect the most powerful man in Colombia to takemefor his bride. A Morales princess uniting with the Souza king. My uncle offered peace, and you’re sticking up your middle finger at him.”

“He wanted this wedding for his own agenda.”

“Does it matter? He’s a cutthroat pig who’d force his own niece to marry a man she’s only seen in photos. We can make this work, Tomás.” She glances at the mess underfoot. “You have choices, whereas I’m told what’s expected of me.” She swallows a breath. “The men I’ve grown up around put their business first and their dicks into any girl they want. We can come to an arrangement about the woman.”

My hand shoots out like lightning. Her eyes pop wide when it seizes her throat, not harsh enough to strangle, just to get her full attention. “You’re not listening to me,” I growl into her face, tingling with savagery. “Marry a man who’ll appreciate you. Who’ll understand how to feed your soul. Not a man who’s incapable of loving you.”

“He’ll kill her,” she chokes out. “He’ll kill the womanyou’rein love with.”

My skin goes cold, her warning a noose to hang me with. “I pity fools who fall in love. It weakens their power and steals their self-respect. I’m not that fool. But if Morales wants to fuck with my people, I’ll kill everyone in his circle before he gets the chance to shit himself,” I deadpan.

Her eyes close briefly. “Then you may as well put a gun to my head now, because once he finds out what I’ve done…he’ll kill me too.”

“What did you do?”

A solitary tear swells in her gaze making my hand relax a fraction. “You’re not a fool. I know you aren’t. But that girl, she means something to you. I’m not blind. She’s important. She shines in your dark eyes and lives in your thawing heart.” She gulps. “So, you’ll understand the pain in your soul when you think about losing her forever…” Her voice wobbles. “Are you certain you want to risk it all for her?”

“One hundred percent.”

She blinks away liquid fear and pushes back her shoulders. “Then I’m begging you…please, help me. You’re the only one who can.”

12

CARINA

Exhausted body parts ache, yet that's not what troubles me. Nor is it the nasty slice absorbing microscopic traces of his criminal blood.

I peel off the borrowed silky gown and let it slump to the warm herringbone tiles. The dreadful female returning my gaze in the ensuite mirror is covered in crusty blotches and has an overwhelming decision shadowing her tainted aura. A matured woman in a young body, harboring a warped heart.

I still look like an innocent nineteen-year-old, even if that girl has been well and truly fucked.

I remove the silly headpiece Teresa had gifted me with and recall her odd statement as she carefully placed the intricately crafted crown on top of my head.

“Women aren't born as queens, we are created from the choices we make, the experiences we endure, and the instincts we honor.”

Yet she failed to mention we were flying to Mexico City where her eldest son was dining with his flawless fiancé. So, when I’d entered the splendid ballroom amidst tables set for royalty and saw Tomás beside a beautiful woman oozing of femininity and sex appeal, my pulse flatlined.

Reality sank in like bitter acid. We’d flown north as guests of the Morales cartel forhiswedding rehearsal dinner. I’d bitten back resentment with every guided step and silently cursed his mother for tricking me—or whatever manipulative game she was playing.

Assessing eyes followed André and I everywhere, my own clashing with Tomás’ shocked gaze for a heart-stopping second. He clearly hadn’t added me to the guest list himself.

And to make matters worse than embarrassing sweating palms and wide eyes, the hurt little girl inside of me felt something other than humiliation and rejection. I was captivated by him all over again. Enthralled by his immaculately suited physique and all too aware of his hungry gaze stripping me down.

Even when I looked away our chemistry crackled. Rogue sparks shot off like fireworks and my heart thundered.

However, the symbolic jeweled tiara gave me strength. Its gentle weight reached into my withering composure, offered robust heart beats, and subdued the sweet burn for his attention. I tried my best not to look at him after that, even though it was damn near impossible. But I had to prove I was worthy of so much more than second place.

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