Page 46 of Ravaged Hearts
Jorge ignored my question and narrowed his eyes. “Alvarez bragged about murdering you. Why would he lie?”
I winced when he tightened his grasp on my hair, tearing out strands. The move tilted my neck back and forced me to meet his unnerving stare. “He thought he’d killed me, but I survived. Barely.”
A small glowing red dot appeared on Jorge’s forehead. Blocks away, Kane had positioned himself on a balcony with his rifle. One wrong move by Jorge and the elite sniper would send a bullet through his head. If Kane made that shot, I wouldn’t be sad, but it would completely derail our plans to track down Carlos. And if I knew my man, Vaughn was probably already yelling at his teammate to pull the trigger.
I needed to get Jorge to calm down. It was pointless to remind him that his behavior was unacceptable in a church. He’d once murdered a priest and strung his mutilated body above the altar, mimicking Jesus on the cross. Being under the eyes of God wouldn’t deter his viciousness.
Jorge snarled in disgust. “You made me look like a fool when you handed yourself over to our enemy.”
“And then you killed them all, so who’s laughing at you now?” I let an arrogant smile form on my lips. “You should be thanking me for pushing you into war with Alvarez. It’s because of me that you and Papá now control all of Mexico.”
It hadn’t been my intention, but when Carlos had thought his biggest rival had murdered me, the war that followed had eliminated the Alvarez Cartel. My father and Jorge hadn’t stopped there. With the help of the militia group la Mano Roja, they’d stamped out all other cartels in the south of Mexico whether they posed a threat or not. The PCC had simply become too powerful to fight.
As for the cartels in the north? Vaughn’s team had squashed the major players there, which left the PCC as the last significant cartel standing.
Jorge’s angered expression shifted into something that resembled reluctant amusement. “Maybe, mi princesa.”
Ew. That nickname coming from his lips made me cringe.
“But we have a lot to talk about before drawing that conclusion.”
Jorge released me, and I staggered back. The red dot on his forehead disappeared, and I exhaled a relieved breath. “Asshole.” I rubbed the tender spot on the back of my head. “What took you so long to get here?”
“I’m a busy man. You’ve waited three years to reunite with your fiancé. What’s a few more hours?”
“Haven’t you found some other poor woman to traumatize?” Just then, I glanced at his ring finger, and both surprise and relief flooded me at finding a gold band around it. “You have. You’re married.”
He looped his thumbs through his belt and shrugged. “I took a wife shortly after receiving news that you’d died.”
My brows shot up. “Wow. Your mourning period must’ve been excruciating.”
“I saw no point in waiting. Despite what you may think, I had looked forward to ruling with you at my side. You know how much I enjoy a challenge.”
A sickening thought hit me. “Children?”
Jorge needed to produce an heir, with or without me, because he was set to inherit the PCC throne. And the only thing more terrifying thanJorge the husbandwasJorge the father. What a way to screw up a kid.
“The first arrives next month.” He said it with as much emotion as if he were talking about a grocery delivery. It turned my stomach. “Don’t think this changes anything between us. You’re still promised to me.”
I scoffed. “But your wife is pregnant. You don’t need me.”
He waved a hand through the air. “I’m tired of her, and she could never truly be a narco queen. Not like you can. I’ll have her dealt with.”
Dealt with. That only meant one thing in Jorge’s world.
My mouth gaped. “Jorge, she’s carrying your child. You don’t have to kill her. Just get a divorce like a normal person. Why do you have to be such a fucking animal?”
“I am who I am.” He made an annoyed face. “Divorce is just so…messy. That’s not my style.”
In his demented view, murder was clean. There were no gray areas with Jorge. If someone or something was useful, he tolerated it. If not, it needed eliminating.
There was only one thing Jorge wanted more than being the leader of the PCC, and that was true legitimacy to the position. In some ways, he still saw himself as a homeless kid begging for food on the streets of Acapulco. Marrying me and producing heirs with Espinoza blood would give him everything he’d ever dreamed of.
“Fine.” He huffed out a breath. “I’ll wait until the baby is delivered. The child can live. See? I’m not a complete bastard.”
Yeah. He was a real goddamn saint.
“Can we leave now? I need to speak with Papá.” I tried to dodge Jorge on my way to the door, but he blocked me.