Crowned In Blood

Chapter 12

12

Marco

I sat back in my car and waited.

It normally took Catalina twenty to thirty minutes to fall asleep, which gave me more than enough time to think.

I hated seeing how drained she was and that I had done nothing to lighten her burden so far. It was my job to protect her, and I was failing at it.

That was the real reason I'd tracked where she'd gone and followed her to the gun range.

I planned to tease her a little and see how much she'd let me touch her. But I didn't expect how good it would feel to have her against me. How desperate I'd be for more.

Whether she meant to or not, tonight, she'd trusted me. She'd allowed me to support her body and shoot with her. Listened to me as I guided her through each weapon.

The way her small body felt along mine, how her heat seared into my skin was indescribable. Her scent was intoxicating, a mix of jasmine, violets, smoke, and leather. I wished I could wrap myself in it, in her , and never let go.

But it was the look in her eyes that shocked me the most. Catalina, my vicious little queen, wanted me.

Me.

She would have let me kiss her. It was written all over her face, from the way she couldn't catch her breath, to her dilated eyes.

And I wanted to kiss her. Throw all the guns to the ground, strip her slowly on that table, and fuck her senseless until she came all over my cock while I filled her to the brim.

Walking away from her was the hardest thing I'd ever done, and it had taken about an hour to finally convince myself I'd made the right choice.

Yes, Catalina wanted me then, but she wouldn't want me after.

Her desire was a momentary blip for her. If I'd fucked her tonight, she would have enjoyed it, then called it a mistake, and worked even harder to distance herself from me.

And I would never permit that.

When she finally allowed me inside of her, that would be it. There would be no going back, and if she tried to run away, I'd show her just how good of a hunter I really was.

I would chase her, tie her down to my bed, and fuck her senseless for days, weeks, months until she finally surrendered to what was between us. If that's what it took, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

But until then, I had a job to do.

Catalina deserved to relax, to ease the weight on her shoulders. Which meant she needed me as her devil, not her man right now.

I drove to my warehouse, where Anthony and Carlos were waiting for me.

I slipped on my leather gloves as I approached them. "The package?"

"Secure, boss," Carlos said.

I nodded and entered the building.

Paul Caprasi sat unconscious, bound to a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back. He had a single black eye, but otherwise seemed to be in good health. As long as he answered my questions, he'd stay that way—minus a few bruises.

I punched him in the gut.

His eyes flew open. Paul tried to bend forward to draw in air but couldn't.

Wheezing, his blue eyes darted from me to Anthony and Carlos, then back. Pure fear spread over his face.

I smirked. "Good. I would have been insulted if you didn't recognize who I was."

"Mr. Torrino. I swear I didn't do?—"

"Paul, I haven't even asked you anything yet, and you're already trying to lie to me. That doesn't bode well for you."

"But Mr. Torrino?—"

I delivered an uppercut to his jaw, sending Paul's head flying back. "Do not interrupt me when I'm speaking."

Paul's eyes watered, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Looks like we're on the same page now. How many families pay you to allow their shipments through?"

"Mr. Torrino, I-I can't say?—"

I tsked. "Do you mean to tell me you're more scared of them than you are of me right now? I guess my reputation must have slipped while I was away."

He shook his head feverishly. "N-no, sir. I know what they call you, T-The Devil."

I grinned. "Would you like to know how I got that name?"

"N-no, sir. I swear. I meant no disrespect, I just?—"

"Anthony, hand me the wrench."

Paul whimpered as I came closer. "No-no, please! Please ! I'll tell you anything, please!"

"You're right, Paul. You will tell me everything I want to know."

Pulling off my gloves, I tossed them into the trash, then called Sam. "Did you get my email?"

"Yeah. I've already started working through it," Sam said.

"Good. I've highlighted the families we didn't know had their hands in the shipping business. I want everything you can find out about them by tomorrow."

"Got it."

I hung up and headed into the bathroom next to the interrogation room. Peeling off my blood-stained clothes and shoes, I shoved them into a plastic bag before turning on the shower.

Grabbing a bottle of soap, I washed away the last few remnants of Paul's body. While I'd at least found out something new, I wasn't sure it would give Catalina the answers she needed or bring her anywhere closer to her goal.

I slammed my fist against the tile. Damn it!

Running a hand through my hair, I tried to get my breathing under control.

It didn't matter if the information I'd beat out of Paul amounted to anything or not, because if it didn't, I'd just try a new angle.

I would get this resolved for Catalina. There was no room for any other alternative.

After a few minutes, I turned off the shower, stepped out, and donned fresh clothes—a crisp black shirt and trousers—before slipping into clean shoes.

When I emerged, Carlos had already placed Paul's phone, keys, and wallet aside, awaiting the cleaning crew.

"What would you like me to do with his body?"

"Put him in the cremation chamber. Then make sure the bones and metal go into the acid. Leave nothing behind."

Carlos nodded.

I exited the building, slid into my car, and called Anthony, who was watching over the cameras I'd installed in front of Catalina's house.

But when he answered, his voice sounded panicked, urgent. "Marco, Catalina’s in trouble. A van just pulled up with eight men, maybe more. They're trying to break in."

No.

I floored the accelerator.

No.

The car shot forward, speeding down the road. I braked hard to turn, the tires screeching as I forced them through the movement.

No!

"Send my men to her address."

"Are you sure?—"

"Just fucking do it!" I roared. I hung up, my vision turning red.

The buildings blurred together as I sped to her house.

Please. Let me make it on time. Please let her be okay. Please. Please!

I begged someone, anyone, whatever deity might be listening. Because if one hair on her head was out of place, I'd burn this city to the ground.

I parked behind the van, blocking it in Catalina's driveway.

Pulling out my gun, I slowly crept up the path. There was no movement outside, nor inside the van. Catalina’s house was pitch black. Everything deathly silent.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I sprinted up the front steps. I popped open the keypad on her lock. They’d cut the wires, leaving the deadbolt as the only thing standing in between her and I. I pulled out my lock-picking set and got to work, my hands trembling with every movement.

I took a deep breath. Steady.

Picking a lock was an art form, something that required time. The complete opposite of what I wanted. I wanted to kick the door down, storm in, and get my woman. But I didn't know the situation inside.

What if she was in the middle of defending herself and the surprise gave someone else the upper hand? What if she was silently working her way through the house, about to shoot someone, and my noise alerted her away? Finding her hurt or worse would break me, but if I found out I'd been the cause? I'd take my life without a moment's hesitation.

I unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

Nothing.

I moved inside, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. A sliver of light flew toward me and I ducked at the last second, the knife embedding itself in the wall.

I never saw the person move until they were right in front of me.

They kicked at my head.

I ducked again and roared. "What the fuck did you do with my Catalina?"

The person stilled, long enough for me to pick them up and throw them against the wall.

The gasp at the impact was feminine, but I didn't fully register the sound.

"Where is she? Who are you?" I growled, shaking them. "If you touched one hair on her head, I swear it'll be the last?—"

They elbowed me in the side of my arm, causing my grip to loosen.

"Marco, it's me."

My brain stopped, then skittered to life. My body responded before I even realized it had. I loosened my grip as the woman of my dreams, the owner of my heart, the master of my every desire, and the core of my being stood in front of me, confused with a glare on her gorgeous face.

"Catalina?"

She felt along a wall, then turned on the switch, bathing her house in light. Strands of her hair had escaped the bun on top of her head. Blood smeared her clothes, arms, neck, and face. She was beautiful, the perfect vision of a vengeful goddess that I'd pray to every day and night.

"Catalina." I brushed her hair back, checked her cheek, her neck. "Catalina, are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Did you get stabbed? Shot?"

Her voice was soft, but curious. "I'm fine, but what are you doing here?"

Fuck. She'd never told me where she lived. She'd never invited me to her house. Showing up at the shooting range was one thing, but this? She could see it as an invasion, as a line where I'd gone too far.

"I've been watching you for a long time," I murmured. It scared me that this might be the moment she put more distance between us, and I couldn't blame her. In my rush to protect her, I'd made a mistake, but her safety was worth it.

I braced myself for her anger and fury as her dark brown eyes searched mine. Then her body relaxed slightly between me and the wall.

My eyes widened and for a moment I didn't move, barely even breathed. Was she really not going to go off? Curse at me? Nothing?

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

She nodded, even as her body trembled slightly.

"Where are the men from the van?"

She motioned past her, and when I turned, I saw their lifeless bodies scattered around her home. I was proud and terrified. I admired her strength, but pure, unfiltered rage bubbled within me because she'd had to use it.

If I could, I'd resurrect the motherfuckers and kill them slowly. I'd torture them, pull their nails, their teeth, one by one. I'd take their eyeballs, slowly carve into their skin with a dull, rusted blade. I'd keep them that way for days until they told me everything they knew. By the time I was done, they would have regretted ever being born.

I clenched my teeth. "What happened?"

Catalina's gaze hardened. "They're my father's men. He sent them because I kept ignoring him. They were supposed to kidnap me and take me to a secure location where he'd pick me up."

She said the words flatly, like they were nothing, when they were everything to me.

I raised my head to the ceiling and took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check.

I could have lost her. There's no telling what would have happened once her father had her in his clutches.

Did he know she was the head of the Salazar Familia? That if she disappeared, people would search for her? That I would search for her? Or had he thought she was simply a figurehead while someone else ran everything behind the scenes?

No, he probably thought she was disposable, that no one would miss her if she were gone, when that couldn't have been further from the truth.

I braced myself against the wall, then bowed my head to her. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to deal with them alone."

She looked away but shrugged. "It's okay. I took care of it. I didn't need any help."

I grasped her chin. "No. It’s not about whether or not you needed help. You shouldn't have had to go through this alone. I know what it’s like to be alone, to have the weight of the world on your shoulders and feel like the only one you can rely on is yourself."

Her eyes met mine as she whispered, "You do?"

"Yes." My gaze softened as I rubbed her cheek.

"Is that why you came here? Because my situation reminds you of your own?"

"Maybe in a small way, but no. That's not why I broke about fifty traffic laws to get to you."

"Then why?"

“Would you believe me if I told you honestly?" I murmured.

Her eyes drifted to the side.

"That's what I thought." I pulled away, just a little, and for a second, she seemed to lean into me before righting herself, so I stepped close to her once more.

"Stay with me."

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You can’t stay here.”

“N-no. My clean-up crew is on the way. Everything will be fine soon.”

“That’s not enough. How are you supposed to rest here comfortably? If your father did this once, he'll try it again."

"I can deal with him. There's nothing he can throw at me that I can't handle."

"No one's invincible, Catalina," I whispered softly.

She glared at me, but I knew she would have fought me if I'd spoken to her in any other way.

"I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to be in danger, Catalina." I clenched my fists. It was the only way I could stop myself from pulling her into my arms. "Please, stay with me. I have a spare room. I'll make sure you're comfortable there. I?—"

She shook her head. “I have to stay here. For my familia.”

“Then I’ll stay with you,” I growled.

“You can’t. You have your own family to run.”

“I can handle both.”

Fire sparked in her eyes. "No."

"Catalina—"

"No!"

I threw my hands up in the air. "Why? Why do you want to stay in a house with literal pools of blood and bodies on the floor? Where someone's already broken in once and can do so again?"

"Because I can't stay with you! Marco, you are the leader of a mafia family. What will people think? What message would that send to the other heads?"

"I don't give a fuck, Catalina. I don't give a fuck about anything else but you !"

"Well, you should! You're already at my office every day. I've had to put up with a lot of trouble from other families, but if I stay with you, they're going to link us together. And that could disrupt the entire Underground." She flailed her hands around us. "Both of our families are powerful and if people think we're going to combine, they will do anything they can to stop it. It won't just be us in danger, it'll be the people we're supposed to look out for too."

I ran my hand through my hair. I hated this. If she needed me to, I'd give up my family right now, without a second thought, but if I told her that, she wouldn't believe me.

She gently squeezed my arm, and the simple touch soothed me in a way nothing else would. "I really will be fine. There are plenty of other places I can stay if I need to."

That's not enough.

"Then I'm staying with you."

"Marco—"

I pressed my body against hers, trapping her between myself and the wall once more. Her eyes went wide. "I said, I'm staying," I growled.

She opened her mouth, but I grabbed her chin. “Stop fighting me on this, because you're not going to win. I will follow you to the lowest levels of hell, if that's where you want to go. But the one thing I will never do again is leave you to fend for yourself."

Her breath hitched.

I brushed the backs of my fingers against her cheek. “I know you've spent your life suffering and I know I can never make up for that. But you're not alone, not anymore."

I stepped closer, pinning her against the wall, leaving no space between us. You’re not going to push me away. Not this time.

"Whatever battles you need to fight, I will fight them with you. If you want to celebrate, I will be there beside you, praising you. If you decide to burn the world down tomorrow, I will pour the gasoline and hand you the match.”

“Marco, I-I?—”

“I know you can’t trust me or believe in what I'm telling you right now, so use me. Use me as a tool. Let me be a part of your arsenal. That will be enough for me. For now .”

Her lips quivered, drawing my gaze, but then she nodded.

I stepped back before I lost the last of my control. Because if she tried to argue with me one more time about staying with her, I'd shut her up by kissing her pretty little mouth the way I’d been dying to.

She watched me, pensively, as if she were weighing her options. Then she swallowed and whispered, “Would you like to go to a gala with me?”

I'd barely heard the words, and if it weren't for the gentle expression on her face, I'd thought I'd imagined them.

She was letting me in, just a fraction.

“Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

Catalina looked physically refreshed after her shower, but I could still see the exhaustion in her eyes.

The clean-up crew arrived and once they finished, we shared a meat lover's pizza on her couch.

Her eyelids grew heavy and, without meaning to, she leaned against me.

I didn’t move, barely remembered how to breathe.

I loved the way she felt, how her softness melded into my body. Knowing I was of use to her, even being just a pillow, felt like a blessing.

I had a good life as a child. I'd been taught and felt love throughout my formative years. But I'd never been so at peace. It felt like I'd found my home, my purpose in life. I desperately wished I could be the person she always leaned on.

I'll just have to strive harder to make sure I am.

"Lina," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Let me take you to bed."

"Mmm," she mumbled, "…too tired."

She didn't say no.

I grinned. "I meant to sleep."

She chuckled, her eyes still closed. "Good, because I'd hate to have to kill you too."

I smiled, then picked her up, cradling her in my arms while she nestled her head in my chest.

Can you feel my heart racing, Catalina? If you can, I hope you know it's for you.

I turned down her hallway, knowing the layout of her house from all the nights I'd spent watching her, but this was the first time I'd seen her bedroom through anything but a window.

I wanted to look around, get a sense of the things she liked, what made her feel comfortable here, so if she ever stayed with me, I could make sure I had the same items in my home, but now wasn't the time.

Instead, I pulled her beige and brown sheets back, then laid her gently in bed. A single piece of long brown hair slid over her face, and I gently brushed it back over her ear.

“Should I braid your hair for you?”

“No, I’ll take care of it in the morning,” she said in a half-grumble, half-whispered voice.

I covered her, taking care to tuck her in snuggly. "Goodnight, Catalina.”

As I turned to leave, she grabbed the cuff of my shirt. "Stay."

"What?" My eyes widened, but she'd fallen back to sleep.

What should I do?

Did she mean for me to stay, as in sleep in her bed or in her house? I glanced at her bed. It was large enough for both of us. And the thought of holding her warm, soft body against mine sent a fierce surge of need through me. But how would she react if she saw me beside her in the morning?

I was certain that even if that was what she meant, she'd likely try to stab me first and ask questions later. I searched the room for a bench or chair I could sleep in instead, but then I saw some of the flowers I’d given her in a vase on her dresser.

I bought her new flowers every week. They were high quality and could last far longer than that, but I always wanted Catalina's office to be enveloped in a fresh floral scent. I didn't want to burden her with giving her something else she had to take care of, so I made sure they never wilted.

But I'd given her these flowers almost a month ago, and as I stepped closer, I noticed it was a hodgepodge of several of the bouquets I'd given her. She seemed to only get rid of them once they'd died, but the water was clear, and their stems were nicely trimmed.

She'd been meticulously caring for them, put them in her bedroom where she'd see them every time she entered or exited.

She's keeping the flowers I'd gotten her alive.

She cared about them. They mattered to her, and by extension, I mattered to her.

It may not be much, but it was something .

I walked out of her bedroom quietly, closing the door behind me, and took the couch, placing myself in the path between her front door and bedroom. I was a light sleeper, so I'd hear her and leave before she came out.

After all, even if she did remember that she asked me to stay, seeing me in her home would likely make her nervous.

It won't always be this way. One day, we would have a home together. One day, she wouldn't push me away.

One day I'd be able to call her mine.