Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Valentina,” Papa greets me with a warm voice, but I’m too livid to focus on anything but Emiliano.
“You asshole!” I shove at his chest and smack his face, letting my fury guide my hands until Benedicto pulls me away. “You have no right to interfere in my personal life! I have a right to live my own damn life, Emiliano!”
“I have every right to keep you safe!” he shouts back, his face contorted with anger.
I shrug out of Bene’s hold and let out a loud bark of laughter. “Keep me safe? You can’t even keep yourself safe. If not for Papa and Bene, you would have been dead years ago. Imbécil.”
His eyes go wide as I land a direct hit to his overinflated ego. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I fold my arms across my chest and glare at Emiliano, who I don’t even recognize as my brother anymore. “You think you’re so big and bad, so fucking tough, but it is only out of respect for Papa—and his money—that allows you to continue breathing. You never fucking think,” I tell him and flick his forehead, fueling his anger.
He lunges forward, but Bene steps between us, shoving Emiliano back a few steps. “Back up,” he demands, his voice low and threatening.
Emiliano is undeterred. He takes a few steps forward and spits out, “Yeah? Then tell us where you were. If you’re so independent, tell us where you were!”
Papa steps in front of his face. “Basta! Enough!” he barks furiously, turning to mean all of us. His narrowed gaze signals he’s had enough of our nonsense. “I am sick of this,” he says, throwing up his hands in frustration. “The same fight over and over again.”
“But Papa,” Emiliano protests.
“No,” he shouts, cutting Emiliano off. “I am so furious with you, Emiliano. Your actions have drawn unwanted attention to the family. You think American law enforcement doesn’t know we’re here? If they weren’t on our tails before, they will be now.”
Emiliano tries again, desperation edging his voice. “Papa,” he pleads.
But our father won’t have it. “Our enemies and our rivals know we’re here, and worse, they know Valentina is with us and not back in Colombia. The American drug enforcement too. I thought you understood this business, that we don’t deal with the law. Ever.”
Emiliano’s eyes darken in disbelief. “Are you kidding, Papa? I am trying to keep everyone safe, including her,” he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at me.
“I was never in danger,” I retort and fold my arms.
Papa comes back at him, not wasting a breath. “And she isn’t the one threatening our business partners with the local law enforcement. Do you know what you’ve done?”
“She’s fucking one of those bikers, Papa.”
“Emiliano,” I growl, my voice low and full of venom.
“No, Valentina. You might think this is some game, some fucking adventure, but it’s not. You can’t fuck him. Not him.”
I fold my arms across my chest again. “Drop it. Right. Now.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his face flushed with rage. “You can’t do this.”
“Fine,” I throw my hands up and turn to Papa. I’m shouting now. “Emiliano is planning to hire someone to kill Jake Dixon. I’m sure that works well for your partnership with the Reckless Souls.”
My words hang heavy and thick in the silence, but Papa’s intake of breath has us all taking a step back. His gaze lasers in on Emiliano. “Did you talk to the police?”
“Papa,” he sighs and fists his hands at his hips.
“Si or no, Emil. Don’t make me ask again.”
“Yes,” he admits, his shoulders slumping. “I told them I thought my sister was kidnapped.”
Papa curses him in Spanish for several minutes before Bene lays a calming hand on his shoulder. “Valentina, let the police know this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. And make sure Santiago is nearby.”
I nod and turn toward the door. The last thing I hear before closing the door behind me is Papa’s angry booming voice. I should feel bad about throwing Emiliano under the bus, but I don’t. Whatever is going on with him has gone too far, and Papa needs to know what he’s planning.
In my room, I shower and smile at the bruises Dix left on my hips and thighs. Then I slip into a knee-length navy blue dress and dark heels—my suit of armor to face the curious American law enforcement.
The station bustles with voices and ringing phones, but the moment I walk in, all the chaos comes to a halt. The officer at the desk looks at me with disdain, but I give him a confident smile.
“I am Valentina Rojas,” I say once I have everyone’s attention, “and as you can see, I am well and have not been kidnapped. It was merely a misunderstanding.”
After a quick statement, I am free to go. Thankfully, the quick process doesn’t require an attorney.