Page 78 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“I need a little time.”
“Bullshit.” No part of me tries to soften the blow. “I want to meet them tomorrow,” I say, my voice leaving zero room for negotiation. A few weeks ago, challenging a man like Lorenzo would have terrified me.
But if he means what he says about never hurting me, I’ve got nothing to lose. “If you don’t make it happen, I’m gone. And this time, I won’t be coming back.”
30
LORENZO
My stubborn wifegets her way.
I spent the better part of yesterday trying to convince her that meeting her biological family could wait. That we needed time to work through the wreckage of my deception before introducing more variables. That rushing into this was dangerous.
She saw through every deflection, every carefully constructed argument. Called me out with those sharp brown eyes and that stubborn tilt to her chin.
“You’re stalling,” she said. “And we both know why.”
She was right, of course. I’m stalling because I’m terrified of losing her.
So here we are, thirty-five thousand feet above the desert, flying toward the one thing that could destroy what’s left of my marriage. I contacted Miguel Cardenas, and the conversation was exactly as hostile as I expected. The man doesn’t want to believe his wife kept such a massive secret. Can’t blame him for that.
But he agreed to meet us. Probably planning a DNA test to confirm what I’ve told him, which is smart. I’d do the same thing.
“I can’t believe I’m not nervous,” Mia says from the seat across from me.
She’s facing me instead of looking out at the clouds, and I take that as a good sign.
“Should I be? Meeting my real family for the first time seems like the kind of thing that should have me anxious as hell.”
“They’re going to love you.” The words come out more certain than I feel. “You have nothing to worry about.”
Her laugh is bitter. “They don’t even know me. I think I’ll settle for them not being openly hostile.”
My hands tighten on the armrests. “No one will be hostile toward you. I won’t allow it.”
Something shifts in her expression, walls sliding back into place. “Right. Wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize your alliance prospects.”
So that’s where we are now. She’s testing me, waiting to see if I’ll choose the alliance over her feelings. Fair enough. I’ve given her every reason to doubt my motives.
What she doesn’t understand is that somewhere along the way, my priorities shifted completely.
I want Miguel’s help crushing Kozlov, sure. But if I have to choose between the alliance and keeping Mia, there’s no contest. She wins every time.
The problem is convincing her of that when I’ve already proven I’m capable of elaborate deception.
When we touch down, the Mexican heat hits us like opening an oven door. Mia squints against the bright sun before sliding on sunglasses, and I usher her quickly to the waiting car. Bulletproof windows, armored body, two of my best men in the front seats. I’m not taking any chances with her safety, especially not on foreign soil.
The drive to the Cardenas compound gives me time to think about what I know of Miguel.
He’s a legacy, like me. Inherited power and held on to it for decades through a combination of strategic thinking and brutal efficiency. The cartel celebrated his sixtieth birthday last year with a party that drew half the criminal underworld. His enemies chose that moment to make their move.
They’re all dead now.
That’s the kind of man I’m dealing with. Someone who doesn’t just survive assassination attempts—he makes examples out of the people who try.
The compound comes into view behind high walls studded with cameras and guard towers. The guard at the gate carries military-grade hardware, and when he leans down to check our credentials, his eyes lock onto Mia.
The shock on his face is immediate. Raw. Like he’s seeing a ghost.
