Page 145 of Jagger's Remorse
Finally, even the skeptics, choosing survival over pride.
"Long live the new queen," someone mutters.
And just like that, I control the entire Sinaloa cartel.
The days pass and we burn Eduardo's body according to his wishes.
A private ceremony in the desert where he built his first lab.
Just family—which now means me, Jagger, and a handful of Eduardo's most trusted.
"He was a bastard," his old lieutenant Martinez says as we watch the pyre burn. "But he was our bastard."
"He was what he needed to be," I reply. "We all are."
"You okay?" Jagger asks as we watch the sun set over Eduardo's empire. My empire now.
"He killed my parents. Ordered my father's death. Had my mother poisoned to look like cancer." I touch my still-flat belly, where our child grows—a secret I've held for a few days now, wanting the perfect opportunity to tell him. "But he also made me strong enough to survive it."
"And now?"
"Now we go home. Solidify power. Prepare for what's coming."
"The FBI?"
"Among other things." I turn to face him. "I'm pregnant."
He goes absolutely still. "What?"
"About six weeks. Figured it out a couple days ago." I study his face, watch emotions war across it. "Surprise."
"Scarlett—" His voice breaks. "Are you serious?"
"Would I joke about this?"
He kisses me hard, desperate, like he's trying to pour every emotion into the contact.
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing away tears I didn't realize were falling.
"Fuck." He drops to his knees right there in the desert sand, pressing his forehead to my stomach. "A baby. Our baby."
"Get up," I laugh, tugging at his shoulders.
"My kid," he says, wonder in his voice as he stands. "Our kid. Holy shit, Scarlett."
"Eloquent as always."
He spins me around, and for a moment we're not cartel queen and an MC VP.
We're just two people who found each other in violence and somehow created life.
"I love you," he says. "Both of you."
"We love you too."
***
We leave directly after the funeral and go back to the clubhouse.
