Valeria never understood how she befriended Haven when she found herself in New York a good year after taking off from Mexico, but she had never been more grateful for the friendship. For years, Haven was the only person Valeria had to rely on—they lived together, for Christ’s sake. And then when Haven met someone who was maybe as dangerous as Jorge had been for Valeria, she knew it was a risk to continue her friendship.
Except, she was scared to walk away.
She loved her friend.
Haven married that man.
Turned out, he wasn’t awful like Jorge.
The rest, from the wedding to the leaked picture, all brought Valeria right back to this hellscape Jorge liked to call home for her. And oh, he had been so fucking pleased to watch his men drag her through the gates of the compound, messy and fighting, while another man carried his drugged, sleeping daughter to him.
“We shouldn’t talk about that,” Valeria said.
“Hmm.”
Mostly, because it pissed Jorge off, and Valeria didn’t feel like dealing with her husband later in the evening. But also, because it hurt Valeria in her heart to think about the people she had left behind.
Haven.
Her best friend.
Chances were, she would never see Haven again. That would be to Haven’s best benefit, all things considered. Anything Valeria cared about, Jorge took note, and used it to keep her controlled, and to make her behave.
Even her daughter wasn’t out of bounds for him, the bastard. Valeria had learned over the last year since her forceful return that it was better to do what the asshole wanted from her than to fight him every step of the way.
One hurt less.
“Well, at least he allowed you out of the compound for this weekend,” Abril muttered, rolling to her back on the lounger, and tipping her matching white sunhat down enough to hide the sun’s rays from her face. “That’s a start.”
Yes, but for what?
Jorge did nothing without reason.
Valeria assumed this was the same.
“Not too far, now,” Valeria called to her daughter as Maria dared to head for the deep end. She could swim in it, but it still made Valeria a little too nervous for her liking. “Come back where you can still touch your feet, Maria.”
“Okay, Mamá,” her girl replied.
She watched as Maria swam closer to the edge of the pool on the shallow side, her tanned legs kicking up a storm and splattering the tiled edge with droplets of water. It was only then that Valeria noticed the man approaching, and because Maria happened to splash him with water from the pool.
Not that he seemed to care.
Dressed in beige slacks, his leather shoes hit the tiles soundlessly as he rolled up the sleeves of his silk dress shirt around his elbows, showing off skin darkened by the sun. He’d left the top two buttons of his shirt undone at his throat and seemed comfortable approaching them.
Roberto García.
Son of a rival cartel leader.
Enemy of theirs.
In peace talks.
And also—
“Ah, dove, you’re getting too much sun,” Roberto murmured as he came to a stop beside Abril’s lounger.
Abril took a deep breath, but didn’t move her sunhat to peer up at the man who should be her intended husband sometime over the next few months. Or, that’s what Valeria had understood. According to Jorge, it was one of the many attempts at making peace between the rival cartels. Although, she wasn’t sure they should trust anything that came out of his rotten mouth.
“I am fine, but gracias,” Abril replied, not unkindly.
Still, a bite lingered in her tone.
Roberto didn’t miss it if the slight narrowing of his eyes was any sign to his lessening patience. His gaze darted to Valeria, and he offered her a tight smile. “You two look like twins today—almost.”
Yes, her in a pale pink one-piece.
Abril in her white one.
Valeria shrugged. “Only from behind, though.”
That made Abril laugh.
Roberto didn’t understand.
Valeria grinned.
Her amusement didn’t last long when a familiar figure came to stand on the marble steps. She swore she distinguished his gaze nailing into her from thirty feet away. She couldn’t see his eyes from behind the dark aviator sunglasses he wore, their weight was still palpable.
“Valeria, clean Maria up and come inside,” Jorge called out to her, “we’re about ready to sit down for dinner.”
She didn’t reply, simply moved to do as she was told, slipping off the lounger to approach the side of the pool. As she pulled Maria from the water, a towel already waiting for her to dry her daughter off, and get her dressed, Roberto murmured something to Abril behind her before he headed for the mansion.
Valeria turned around with a towel-wrapped Maria in just enough time to watch Abril glower at the man’s back as he walked away. “Be careful,” she told her sister-in-law, “because they won’t like seeing your face looking like that about him.”
Abril’s jaw tightened before her hateful expression morphed into a blank slate. “I refuse to marry that man.”
“He isn’t a bad man.”
“He isn’t the man I want, Val.”
Yes, well ... she knew how that worked.
How this life of theirs worked.
Look at her.
Valeria said nothing.
Abril didn’t seem to mind.
• • •
Spanish flowed around the table between the men, but the women at their sides kept quiet, and focused on the meal. It was what the Lòpez men expected from their wives, or sister, in Abril’s case. They weren’t interested in hearing a woman’s perspective on their business, and they didn’t want opinions.
Valeria didn’t care.
She used that time to make sure Maria ate enough of her food that she wouldn’t be asking for a snack every five minutes after dinner ended. And when her attention was on her daughter, which she didn’t get often because Jorge was an asshole, no one seemed to pay any mind to Valeria.
She considered that a win.
Right?
Maria sat between her mother, and Jorge. She called him Papá because Jorge refused to answer to anything else, but God knew Maria didn’t like the man who had helped to give her life. It didn’t help that the child had a front-row seat to the horrible treatment her mother received from her father daily.
Not to mention, until this last year, Maria hadn’t known her father at all. So, they forced the girl out of America, put her in front of some man who behaved like a monster, and expected the six-year-old to love him.
Okay.
Valeria did her best to make sure Maria behaved and gave her father the attention he wanted. It was easier on all of them that way, but in private, she let her daughter hug her tight, cry, and beg to go back to America, and Haven. Away from these people who she said were mean and hurt her mom.
What else could she do?
“Is it good?” Valeria asked.
Maria nodded. “I like it.”
“Good.”
“This will be a good deal,” Martín, her father-in-law, said with a pointed finger moving between Abril and Roberto sitting side by side across from Valeria and Jorge. “It is a good match, and it will bring our organizations closer ... more money, more power, sí?”
Jorge smiled tersely. “Absolutely, Papá.”