Chapter Two

I glance behind me as I hurry toward the nondescript little beach cottage.

I haven't done anything stupid that should cause me to think that anyone would be following me. I know that what I am about to do is going to have lasting repercussions, however, both for me and for those I love.

As my mind forms the word, "love", I feel my heart pinch in my chest. I don't know that I will ever believe in love again.

I pound on the door of the cottage with my fist, wincing at the jolt of pain that shoots down into my elbow. I look around again nervously, tapping my foot.

"Come on, Marco," I mutter. "Hurry up."

I raise my hand to bang on the door again, when suddenly, it swings open.

Marco Rodriguez stands in the open doorway, a confused look on his face. His dark brows are drawn down over his brown eyes as he regards me with confusion.

"Kate?" he says questioningly. He looks past me as if to confirm that I am alone. "What are you doing here?'

"I need a favor, por favor," I say. "Let me in."

He lifts a brow at my tone. "A favor? What kind of favor would you need from me?"

"Just open the door and let me in so I can explain," I snap at him.

He scowls a little at this, but he steps aside so that I can walk into his little beach house. The place is cute, although it's clear that a bachelor lives in it.

Everything inside is a neutral color, and the walls are empty and bare. I march over to the couch and plunk down onto it, grateful that the cushions are soft, even if the color is bland.

"Okay, what's up?" Marco says to me. "I haven't seen you in a couple of years now. You haven't been very social with any of us since you started dating Elio La Rosa."

I wince as the name of my fiancé is spoken in the silent room. I hate having to come to Marco, an old friend, with my heart on my sleeve.

Marco and I have been friends since we were teens. Marco's adoptive family and my family have been business partners for generations.

We spent summers and holidays hanging out with all the other Rodriguez and Aguirre offspring, so it was only natural that some of us would forge lasting bonds with one another.

Everyone always asked Marco and I if we were going to get married someday, but the thought never occurred to either of us.

There's no spark of attraction between Marco and myself, and even if there was, the looming threat of Elio's rage would have prevented us from ever taking action on it.

"Things have changed," I say quietly, my heart a steady ache in my chest.

I feel empty of purpose, devoid of light. The conversation that I overheard Elio having last night has robbed me of my will to do anything but escape from the pain.

"I thought that you two were as good as married already," Marco says to me, going into the kitchen and pouring some whiskey into a glass. He glances over at me and holds up the glass inquiringly.

"No thanks," I reply in response to his gesture, before scrubbing at my eyes with my fingers. I sigh, then say, "I thought so too."

Marco makes a grunting noise in reply to my words and crosses the room. He takes the seat across from me and looks at me for a long, silent moment. "Something happened, I take it. Did you guys have a fight?"

I shake my head, my dark hair kissing my cheeks. I stare at the alcohol in his glass. Its golden amber color is a good match for my eyes.

Everyone has always told me that my eyes are one of my best features and I know that I'm not ugly. In fact, anyone else but Elio would likely say that I am a pretty girl. But Elio never compliments anyone, at least not aloud.

"I overheard something I wasn't supposed to hear," I say, my voice so soft it's nearly a whisper.

"About a business deal?" Marco asks, sipping at his drink.

I shake my head again. "No. This was about me."

Marco's eyes widen slightly, and he leans forward a little. "I see. Care to tell me what you heard, or are you going to make me pry the information out of you?"

I roll my eyes. "I was about to explain, but you keep interrupting me."

"Sorry," Marco says with a little smirk. I think, not for the first time, how much easier it would have been for me if I could have just fallen in love with Marco.

Maybe we could have run away together and started our lives over somewhere away from our powerful families and all this constant drama.

"Anyway," I go on, "I heard Elio talking on the phone. He was saying that he will be coming home after the wedding, but he's going to leave me here. He said that he doesn't need me in the way while he's trying to work."

"You don't think he's trying to protect you from harm?" Marco asks me.

I shake my head. "No. He said that he just wants to get the wedding over with so that he can go back to working again. He said that he hopes I get pregnant right away so that he can get back to the life he was living before he was forced to get engaged to me." Admitting this causes me significant pain.

I can't even tell if it"s my pride that is wounded or my heart.

Marco is silent for a moment as he ponders this. "Look, you know that Elio isn't my favorite person. I can't really be objective about him, or his intentions. I will admit that sounds pretty bad. I think you deserve better, but you have to admit that you two haven't enjoyed a conventional courtship. Your arranged marriage probably feels like a burden to him."

"I don't want to be cast aside," I say to my friend. "I love him." I feel the first tear slip down my cheek. I dash it away angrily.

I promised myself that I wouldn't cry.

Marco makes a little tsking noise and sets his drink down on the coffee table between us. He crosses the room to sit down next to me and drapes his arm over my shoulder.

I choke on a little sob and lean my head against him.

"Can't you just talk to him about this?" Marco suggests as I wipe at the tears leaking from my eyes.

I scoff loudly. "And admit to him that I was eavesdropping? He'll probably just go into a rage and demand I mind my own business next time."

I feel Marco stiffen up at my words. "Does he hurt you?"

I think about the kind of sex that Elio and I enjoy, then suddenly I can feel my cheeks getting hot. But I know that isn't what Marco is asking about, so I say, "No. He wouldn't do that to me."

"Then why can't you just tell him that you don't want to be cast aside or left here when he goes back to the States?"

My vision goes blurry with fresh tears. "Because I don't have a bargaining chip anymore. I'm already pregnant."

"Does he know?" Marco asks.

"No," I say. "I just found out this morning. I'm already out of time to change his mind, and we aren't even married yet."

"Well, that's less than ideal, but I still think you should talk to him about this," Marco insists.

I sit up and push away from Marco. I feel my heart harden with my resolve. "No. I don't want this life. I don't want to be his pawn in some huge game of chess he is playing. If he already feels this way about me, then nothing will change once we are married. I will be landing right in a trap that was built by both of our parents. I don't want to live my entire life knowing that no one loves me."

I start pacing around Marco's small living room. I pull my engagement ring on and off my finger in my agitation.

The desire to fling it out the window crosses my mind, but I resist being that heedless. The ring is a family heirloom and I don't need to give Elio any more excuses to be angry with me.

"I came up with a solution to my problem. That's actually why I'm here," I say to Marco.

"You need my help," he states the obvious.

I nod. "Yes. Well, actually, you are the plan."

Marco rises to his feet. I glance over at him and see that he is frowning at me. "I don't like the sound of that."

I turn pleading eyes on him. "I need you to tell Elio that the baby is yours and that we are in love."

Marco holds up a hand at this. "Wait a minute. I don't want to end up knee-deep in your family drama. My adoptive family will not thank me for causing a rift with the La Rosa tribe and they certainly won't want me to marry someone who was engaged to Elio."

"We've always been close, Marco," I plead. "We wouldn't have to stay married for long. We could get divorced."

Marco shakes his head firmly. "Absolutely not. I'm game to try and help you out in another way, but I am not willing to burn bridges with every single influential family in the business just to get you out of your marriage."

Marco opens his mouth to say something else, when suddenly there is a loud pounding noise at the door.

I look at Marco with wide eyes. He looks worried, which doesn't make me feel better.

Often, I am able to forget that our families are engaged every day in criminal business that is dangerous. However, in moments like these, away from the safe housing compound I grew up in and my personal bodyguards, it becomes obvious why I am not allowed to roam around unprotected.

"Who is it?" Marco calls as he walks to the kitchen and picks up a gun off the counter. I watch him disengage the safety before he walks over to the front door.

"It's Elio," comes an angry voice that is muffled by the door.

Marco looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Fuck. Location sharing," I say softly, holding up my phone.

I bite my lip. I should have thought of the fact that Elio could track me with the help of my cell phone.

Marco rolls his eyes and clenches his jaw. He hesitates for a moment, clearly pondering what to do.

"I heard her, dammit!" Elio yells from the other side of the door. He pounds on the wooden surface again. "Let me the fuck in!"

Marco takes a deep breath and swings the door open.

Elio bursts through the doorway so violently that it knocks Marco back. I hear him curse under his breath before Elio is on me, pushing and shoving me back until my calves hit the couch, and I sit down hard.

"What the actual fuck, Kate!" Elio shouts at me. "Why are you here with him?"

"I…" I start to say, but Elio turns away with a curse to glare at Marco.

"If there's something going on here, you two had better come clean right now. I don't have any patience for games," he hisses.

I open my mouth again to speak, but this time, Marco speaks before I can say anything.

"No games," Marco says. He puts the safety back in place on his gun and tucks it into the waistband of his jeans. "It's good that you're here because we wanted to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" Elio spits out through gritted teeth. He turns his dark brown eyes on me.

I look up at his beautiful face framed by his tousled, dark hair and feel a pang of regret.

He's so beautiful. Like some kind of fallen angel.

Even the rage in his expression doesn't render him ugly. If anything, the fury makes him even more strikingly handsome.

"You deserve to know the truth," I manage to say. My throat feels like someone is squeezing it in a firm grip.

"Oh, it's truth we're sharing, is it?" Elio retorts. He laughs, the sound wild and a little unhinged. "I think I can guess what kind of truth you two might have to share with me, given that you snuck over here without telling anyone. You even managed to ditch your security team, I see. I'll have to punish them when I'm done with you two." He rakes a hand through his thick hair and I notice that it's shaking a little.

I assume he's so angry because he hates to be bested at anything and he hates being left out of decisions even more.

"Elio, calm down and listen to us," Marco says soothingly. He reaches down slowly and picks up his glass of whiskey from the table where he abandoned it. "Have a drink and calm down. We can talk about this like adults."

"There's nothing to talk about since I can already tell what's happening here. You two told me you were just good friends, but that was a lie, wasn't it?" Elio narrows his eyes at me, and I shrink back into the soft couch cushions.

I have never been afraid of Elio before, but I know now why he is so good at managing the family business and why he has a reputation for being so cruel.

"I can't marry you, Elio," I make myself say, even though some traitorous part of my heart cries out that there is nothing I want more. "I'm pregnant with Marco's baby."

Marco's eyes meet mine and I see the defeat in his expression. I hope that he will forgive me for doing this to him. I don't spare him anymore of my attention; however, I look at Elio cautiously. He has gone very still, the furious look frozen on his face. The only sign that he is alive is the ticking of a muscle in his clenched jaw.

"Say something," I whisper.

"Prove it," Elio says to me. His voice sounds strangled, but there is nothing in his expression to indicate that he feels any emotion about this moment.

A wry smile twists my lips. I reach into my purse and pull out a pregnancy test in a plastic bag.

I look down at it for a moment, then hold it out to him, my eyes locked on his face. I hear Marco make some kind of sound, but I can't afford to look at him right now.

Elio is like a wild animal caught in a snare. Looking away, even for a second could be deadly.

One of Elio's slender, sensitive hands reaches out toward me, and he takes the test. He pulls the bag taut over the plastic stick, his eyes trained on the results window.

"Positive," he says, his voice flat.

"Yes," I agree. "It's not yours. I'm sorry." I don't know if I'm apologizing to Elio, myself, Marco, or the unborn baby nestled inside my womb.

Elio blinks, and when he meets my gaze, his eyes aren't shuttered against his emotions. In that split second, I see stark pain in his expression. He swallows hard, the column of his throat visibly contracting as he controls himself.

"Elio…" I start to say.

It's as though my words break his trance. His expression grows hard and I see his long fingers go tight around the pregnancy test.

His jaw clenches, then he roars with rage and heaves the pregnancy test at me. It hits me in the arm and I cry out. I instantly grab at my bicep in shock.

Marco starts to move toward me, but Elio draws back his arm and punches him in the face so hard that he goes down in a heap on the floor. I see blood pouring from his nose before looking back up at Elio's enraged face, still beautiful like a god's and utterly terrifying.

"You will both regret that you have betrayed me in this way," Elio shouts at us. "I will make you both wish that you were never born!" He spits on the floor and stalks from the room.

I hear a sports car engine revving and then tires squealing as Elio drives away.

Marco makes a groaning noise, and then I remember that he's hurt.

I rise to my feet, feeling numb all over, and manage to stumble over to Marco's crumpled form near the front door. "I'm so sorry," I keep saying over and over again as I try to blot up the blood pouring from Marco's nose.

I look down at my hands, which are now covered in blood and I nearly gag.

"Here, look out," Marco says to me, managing to sit up. He pulls his t-shirt off and presses it to his nose with a wince.

"Marco, what do we do now?" I ask in a shaky voice.

Marco looks at me with sadness in his eyes. "Now we make plans to keep you and your baby safe," he says.