White Monarch Trilogy by Jessica Hawkins

Author:Jessica Hawkins [Hawkins, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 518 Books, Inc.

A kilometer outside the gates of the Badlands, Cristiano parked in the driveway of a large, freestanding garage.

This, it seemed, was the everyone who’d been waiting for us: two SUVs, a Dodge Ram, an Audi, and a couple of shoddy Hondas—all black with tinted windows.

Cristiano stepped out of the car and joined a circle made up of some of the men who’d been at the Easter party. I knew better than to follow or even open my door until Cristiano came for me. Instead, I watched from where I was as a very young blonde girl in a denim skirt and a tank top exited one of the SUVs.

Cristiano gave her a once-over before circling her.

I knew that walk. That stare. That scrutinization. He’d done it to me on our wedding day before he’d ripped off my dress.

As she kept Cristiano in her sights, Max approached her from behind, grabbed her elbows, and yanked her down onto her knees so she crumpled like a ragdoll.

She thrashed, threw her head back, and he released her as he keeled over. Jumping to her feet right from her knees, she turned and kneed him in the face so he fell back onto his back.

She put a foot on his chest in triumph, then backed away.

Cristiano smiled as he helped Max off the ground, then slapped him on the back and nodded at the girl before she got into one of the SUVs. The rest of the men dispersed into other vehicles that left the garage.

Only Cristiano remained, looking in my direction. As he walked over, he signaled for me to lower my window.

“Who was that girl?” I asked when Cristiano neared. “Where are they taking her?”

He stuck an arm on the roof of the car and leaned inside. “If you want answers, come with me.” He straightened and called over his shoulder as he walked away, “But you might not be ready. If you’re not, Eduardo can take you home.”

When Cristiano had mentioned the Belmonte-Ruiz cartel, all sorts of scenarios had run through my head, most ending with me in the trunk of a car. But we’d come this far without Cristiano hurting me—or letting me get hurt. And I was finding that being in the dark was far worse than anything I’d learned yet. I held fast to the instinct that he’d keep me safe as I popped open the door and exited the car.

My spiked heels stuck in the rubber garage floor, but I wobbled along to one of the Hondas, where he opened the trunk and handed me a bulletproof vest. I’d seen plenty in my lifetime, but I’d never worn one.

“What’s this for?” I asked, holding it with both hands.

“What do you think?” He shot me a grim glance. “Still want to come?”

I put the vest on under the blazer and pulled back my shoulders to keep from slouching beneath the weight.

Moments later, we were pulling out of the garage in the Honda. The first in a line of vehicles took off in the opposite direction of the Badlands, and we followed.

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