Page 89 of The Red Queen

She moved into the kitchen, squatting next to a burnt-out double sink. She hoped Adelaide had made it out before the wrath of Mateo came down on Nico’s head. Adelaide had been sweet to Desi, sneaking her sweets when she was still young and helping her to hide when she was old enough to garner male attention.

Next, Desi moved to the dining room, kicking a charred chair out of her way as she looked around. The table was gone, most of the chairs, the paintings, the ludicrously expensive Persian rug that Nico liked to brag about to guests. The chandelier was now where the table had been, a monstrously grotesque and twisted piece of metal. A laugh escaped Desi. Nico had told anyone who would listen that the chandelier had been solid gold. She didn’t know if the seller had lied to him or if he’d lied when he was bragging, but the sad art installation in front of her was definitely not gold through and through.

She walked away from the charred mansion, stopping on the front steps where Nico’s body had been laid. It surprised her that no one had come for it. There was almost nothing left but bones, the harsh mountain elements having stripped him of his flesh and dignity.

Desi lifted the sledgehammer over her shoulder and swung it straight down, shattering his skull, sending shards of bone flying in every direction. She’d intended the moment to be symbolic, the final blow to Garza’s empire, done by her hand, but as soon as the sledgehammer hit, something inside her broke. Tears she hadn’t known she was crying dripped down her face, sobs leaping from her throat.

She let out a scream of anger and lifted the hammer again, bringing it down on Nico’s corpse, shattering his exposed ribcage. She lifted it again and again, crying and screaming until there was nothing left but dust. Even then, she kept going. She would destroy every particle, every atom of the man who had stolen a child and twisted her into a monster.

“Desi.”

Her name was spoken so softly, with so much compassion that it took her a moment and two more hits of the sledgehammer to penetrate her bloodthirsty haze. She froze and lifted her gaze.

Giovanni stood opposite her, the wind whipping up dirt and ashes and swirling it around him, mixing with the smoke wafting from his cigar, which was held loosely between two of his fingers. His rings, his suit, his shoes, they were immaculate, yet standing here in the dirt with her, he looked more powerful than ever. He was magnificent. Everything she wanted in a partner.

She felt like the feral queen to his majestic king.

She dropped the sledgehammer and stepped over the broken shards of Nico’s corpse. She stopped in front of him, standing eye to eye with him. He didn’t touch her, but she saw approval in his eyes for his savage bloodthirsty queen.

“Home,” he said simply, turning away from her and striding back toward the jeep.

Desi walked beside him, slipping her grimy hand into his.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The flight took on a deja vu quality, but with far less contention between Desi and her former captor. She was laying across the same couch they had placed her on when Giovanni had taken her from Miami and flown with her to Italy. This time her finger didn’t throb in pain, and she wasn’t drifting through a drug-induced haze, forced on her to make the journey safer and more comfortable. This time, her exhaustion came from a brief but satisfying visit with her family and her emotional trip to the Garza compound.

Giovanni sat on the couch with her, cradling her head in his lap while he conducted business on his phone. Dino sat across from them, his deep voice occasionally rumbling with the din of the jet’s engines as he spoke softly with Giovanni.

Her respect for Giovanni’s second-in-command had gone up since spending time with him in Mexico. He was fiercely loyal to and protective of his boss and everyone in his boss’s orbit. He was serious and commanding, but also deferential to Giovanni without coming across as weak. He reminded her of herself when she’d acted as second to Nico.

Giovanni smoothed back the hair on Desi’s forehead as he spoke with Dino, a gesture that sent her heart fluttering. Her eyes were closed, but she was awake. Sort of. Drifting in a happy haze as they made their way over the Atlantic toward their home.

A slight flutter in her belly made Desi wiggle on the couch. She frowned and touched her stomach. She shouldn’t be hungry. Her mother had made a ridiculous amount of food for their last meal with the family and then insisted on packing up the leftovers so Desi could eat the rest of the tortillas and jerked chicken on the airplane, which she’d done less than an hour earlier.

Her appetite had definitely increased with her pregnancy. She had to watch that she didn’t eat everything in sight, or at least counteracted her new zest for food with activity. Still, the fluttering didn’t feel like hunger. It felt like something moving around in her…

The baby!

Desi sat straight up with a gasp and Giovanni looked at her with alarm.

She shook her head and beamed at him, placing her hand firmly over her stomach. “I can feel it,” she whispered. “It’s moving.”

Giovanni’s expression went from worried to awed, and he reached for her, placing his hand next to hers. The fluttering was so light she didn’t think he would feel it, but an expression of delight crossed his rugged features, giving him a boyish look.

“I feel it.”

Even Dino looked intrigued, though he was careful to look away and give the couple their moment.

Desi snuggled against Giovanni’s side. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Boy,” he said instantly.

She burst out laughing. “How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Chauvinist.” She punched him in the arm that didn’t have a bullet wound.

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