Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(52)

“So what’s the plan? You want to marry her, or are you just fucking around?”

Juan Pablo pulls his shoulders back and lifts his chin, sending Quinn a look of defiance. “Yes, I want to marry her. She’s my life.”

Quinn nods. “Good answer. Okay, then. Take your girl and go.”

Lili cries out in happy disbelief. Juan Pablo looks around the room as if he has no idea what’s happening.

Aghast, Gianni starts to sputter. “She can’t leave with him!”

“Why not?”

“I forbid it, that’s why!”

“She doesn’t need your approval. The lass is eighteen, which makes her legally an adult. She can do whatever the fuck she likes.”

Gianni stabs his finger in Juan Pablo’s direction, shouting, “She won’t leave with this fucking wetback! I won’t allow it! No daughter of mine will be with a—”

His rant ends abruptly when Quinn spins around and punches him square in the face.

He crashes to the floor and lies there, bleeding and gasping, clutching his nose.

Glowering down at him with both hands fisted and his jaw clenched, Quinn growls, “It’s not nice to call people names.”

Controlling his anger, he smooths a hand down the front of his tux and turns back to Juan Pablo. “Lili’s in danger. Do you know about what happened last week?”

“Yes, she told me.”

“You need to get away from the East Coast. Preferably out of the country altogether, at least until we find out who was behind the attack.”

Juan Pablo nods. “I have family in Mexico.”

“Good. We’ll get you on a private flight with bodyguards and security. Once you’re there, keep a low profile. No social media posting, no talking to your friends. You’re off the grid.”

Holding his bleeding nose, Gianni stumbles to his feet, using the wall for balance. Breathing hard, his hands shaking, he looks at Juan Pablo with pure hatred in his eyes. Then he turns his vicious glare to Lili.

“If you leave with this boy, you’re dead to me. Do you understand? I’ll never speak to you again. You’ll be cut off. You won’t have a dime of my money.”

Juan Pablo snaps, “She doesn’t need your money. She’ll have mine.”

Gianni’s laugh is cold and hard. “From what, your newspaper route?”

“My family’s probably richer than yours, ese.”

“Really? Cleaning pools is a big moneymaker, eh?”

“No. But drug trafficking is.”

The air in the room goes static. Nobody says anything. The silence has a strange, dangerous weight.

Into it, Declan says quietly, “Anytime you’d like to explain that, feel free.”

“My uncle is El Mencho.”

Gianni makes a strangled noise, like a cat trying to expel a hairball. His face turns sheet white.

With lifted brows, Declan says, “Alvaro?”

Juan Pablo nods. “My father and I aren’t in the business. We don’t want nothing to do with that. But he’s family. My mother’s brother. He makes sure we don’t want for anything.”

A confused Kieran says, “Who’s Alvaro?”

“Head of the Jalisco Cartel,” answers Declan, assessing Juan Pablo with a new look in his eyes.

“Oh. We friends with them?”

“Never met them. But they’re Sinaloa’s biggest rival.”

“And Sinaloa’s our enemy,” finishes Quinn. A hint of a smile lifts his lips.

Juan Pablo says, “If you want, I’ll make an introduction.”

Declan nods. “It would be appreciated. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. You didn’t have to do this for me and Lili.” He looks at me. “You, too. I know you’re only wearing that dress to protect us.”

Gianni appears as if he’s having a stroke at hearing the news that not only has he lost control of his daughter, he’s lost out on leveraging a blood tie to the second-largest cartel in the world.

Desperate not to lose anything else, he shouts at Declan, “Our families negotiated a contract in good faith!”

Declan smiles. “And the contract stands. Christ, I love weddings.”

Quinn says, “I hope you love receptions, too. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

Quinn turns his attention to me. His eyes darken and his voice takes on a husky edge. “I’ve got a date with my wife tonight.”

He licks his lips, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.





21





Rey





We’re in a limo. I don’t remember exactly how we got here. The past hour of my life has been such an overwhelming whirlwind of emotion, I can’t think straight.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think straight again. My brain is broken. There’s a network of cracks all over the poor thing that look exactly like my new husband’s dumb spiderweb tattoo.

Sitting beside me, Quinn stares at my profile in broody silence. Then he reaches over and drags me onto his lap.

“What the—”

“Easy,” he murmurs when I yelp in surprise. He winds his arms around me and holds me in a tight, possessive grip, gazing at me with hooded eyes. The skirt of the wedding dress poufs all around us like a cloud.