Chapter 9

9

EMILIA

T omorrow you will be mine and that is all that matters.

I turn the words over that Javier gave me last night. I don’t understand them. Why would me being his matter to him? We’re not marrying for love, after all.

In the six months we were together, I never once picked up on the fact he planned to end the relationship. Our love was consuming. Passionate. I was needy for him like I’ve never been needy for a man. And I thought he’d felt the same way. The night he told me, in no uncertain terms, that we were done, came as a complete shock to me. It had been a slap in the face in the worst possible way and I’d taken a long time to get over him. Truthfully, I never got over him. But he made it abundantly clear two years ago that he wanted nothing more to do with me, so his words from last night make no sense.

He disappeared after he fucked me last night. I went to sleep before he returned, and when I woke this morning, he wasn’t next to me. I know he came to bed at some point, because I woke just after three to his arms around me. Another mindfuck that I don’t know what to do with.

My mother is horrified we’re staying in the same room. That my fiancé will see me on the morning of the wedding. I had to bite my tongue to remind her it’s not a real marriage.

She wanted to help me get dressed today, but I told her no. I don’t want anyone fussing over me today. I just want to get through the wedding and the reception while conserving as much energy as possible to survive Javier tonight. Not that I’m worried about the sex; I’ve already screwed that up. I’m only worried about preserving my heart now. I’m almost certain that is going to be a full-time job once we’re married.

Javier’s angry voice sounds from the living area of the penthouse as I finish applying my make-up. I can’t make out his words, but his tone is enough to draw me out of the bedroom to see what’s happening.

“Get everyone downstairs and make sure Perez is contained,” he roars at Bruno.

His fury is a living-breathing thing, and it causes me to stop and take a step back. I’ve seen Javier angry before, but holy hell, this is something else. Especially since I know he holds his head of security in high regards and usually respects him enough not to take his anger out on him. Or, at least, he used to.

Bruno hesitates. “I’ll stay here with you.”

“No.” Javier is firm, leaving no room for argument. “I want you all down there. I want that motherfucker found.”

Bruno still appears hesitant, but he nods his agreement and puts his phone to his ear to bark his own orders at his team while he exits the suite.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Javier’s eyes come to me, still flashing with his fury. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“I feel like it is something for me to worry about. My family is downstairs.”

He clenches his jaw. “And I have my security watching all of them, Emilia. They’re safe.”

I know who Perez is, so I know that if he’s anywhere close, none of us are safe. However, the men surrounding me like to keep me sheltered, so I also know I have no hope of getting an answer out of Javier about this.

“Fine,” I snap and turn on my heel to go back into the bedroom. I don’t expect him to share information with me. I’m not a fool; I know how this world we move in works. However, I’m frustrated that he won’t ever give me more than ‘this is nothing for you to worry about’ like I’m a woman who should just look pretty and fucking smile.

I’m also frustrated that he’s reduced me to this woman who mutters ‘fine’ when I mean anything but that. I’m an intelligent, independent woman who has never allowed a man to affect me the way I’m allowing Javier to.

Deep breath, Emilia.

Marry the asshole. Fuck the asshole. But don’t let him mess with your emotions.

Easier said than done.

I style my hair into curls and leave them to fall over my shoulders and down my back. It’s my favorite way to style it. Unfortunately, it’s also Javier’s favorite. I do my best to ignore that and move to the closet where my wedding dress hangs.

Nerves that I didn’t expect flutter in my stomach. I can’t decide if they’re happy flutters or nervous ones. They should be the latter, but I’m not convinced they are.

I’ve just laid my dress on the bed when I hear angry shouts from the living area again.

Jesus, Javier is in a mood today.

Except, I realize something bad is happening when gunfire sounds.

Fear rushes through my veins, but only for a split second. My father trained me for this from a young age, and while I haven’t had to deal with something like it in years, I’ve kept my skills sharpened.

Moving fast and without making a noise, I head for my suitcase where I have my gun stashed. The one even Javier’s team didn’t find when they searched my bag. That’s what they get for conducting a sloppy search after assuming a woman like me doesn’t carry.

Once I locate it, I quietly move through the rooms of the suite looking for Javier. I find him and another man in the library.

Perez.

I’d recognize the asshole anywhere. My father has had enough issues with him for me to know he’s the kind of man who needs a bullet through his head. The problem with that is he heads the Alonso Cartel who would be swift with their retribution if we did shoot him.

Perez’s back is to me, but his gun is trained on Javier.

Javier’s gun lies on the floor.

He’s seen me, but he was quick to divert his eyes back to Perez who is unaware of my presence.

“If you’re going to shoot, Perez, fucking shoot,” Javier snarls.

Perez keeps his gun on Javier. “I’m not going to shoot you until after I fuck your woman and shoot her. I want you to watch her bleed.”

Javier’s features darken more than they already are. “You will never lay a fucking finger on her.”

“You might have stopped me two years ago but look at you now. Does it seem like you hold any power here today?”

Javier stopped him two years ago?

My brain races as it latches onto that, but I push it aside. I don’t have time to be contemplating anything right now. Not when Javier’s life is at risk.

“Fucking shoot me!” Javier bellows, and I realize that each time he’s ordered Perez to shoot, he’s actually ordering me to do that. He’s letting me know he’ll deal with the fallout of Perez’s death.

I step closer to Perez and aim my gun at him. “It’s such a shame you won’t get to fuck me,” I say. “Or shoot me,” I add as he spins to face me. Without hesitation, I pull the trigger and lodge a bullet between his eyes, exactly how I was taught by the men my father hired to train me as a teenager.

Javier moves into action the minute I fire the gun.

He retrieves his gun before closing the distance between us as Perez goes down. “Stay with me,” he orders, his voice rough. Pulling out his phone, he makes a call and barks into the device, “Perez is with me. He’s dead.” He listens for a moment before saying, “You and Christopher come up to the suite to take care of this. Everyone else is to keep searching for his men.”

He disconnects and shoves the phone into his pocket before running his gaze over my body. It’s as if he’s searching to make sure I’m okay, that I haven’t come to any harm.

I frown. “What happened with Perez two years ago?”

His eyes meet mine. “Nothing.” He takes hold of my arm and tries to drag me out of the library.

I resist, pulling out of his hold. “No, Javier. I want to know what he meant when he said you stopped him. Did he threaten my life?”

“Fuck, Emilia, this is not the time to get into this.”

“You’re right there. The time to get into it was two years ago.” I cross my arms and settle in for a fight. We aren’t going anywhere or exchanging any vows today until he answers my question. “Did us breaking up have something to do with this?” I don’t know why it would have, but the timing seems far too coincidental.

His eyes search mine. I can’t tell if he’s deciding to ignore my question, or if he’s weighing up what to share with me. Finally, he nods. “Yes. Perez made a threat against you two years ago.”

“What kind of threat?”

“The cartel had to give up some territory. He threatened your life if we didn’t.”

“Okay, so what did that have to do with us?”

He takes his time answering again, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s frustrated by this conversation. “He figured out that you were my weakness. I wouldn’t have forced my father to surrender anything if not for you.”

I still.

My pulse speeds up.

And suddenly everything falls into place.

“You didn’t want to walk away from me.”

“No.”

The nerves that fluttered in my stomach earlier go into overdrive.

I move into him so fast we practically collide.

“You saved my life.” The words breathe out of me as I take hold of his face, staring into those eyes of his that hold so many hidden emotions, willing him to share the piece of himself I desperately crave. The piece I’ve craved for two years. “Then, and now.”

His arms go around me without pause.

Strong.

Firm.

Possessive.

“I will always save your life,” he rasps before crashing his lips down onto mine and giving me that piece of him I want.

His heart .