DRACO

14 MONTHS LATER

After bombing the only house I ever loved, the home I became a man in, I sent Patanza and Clark to America to visit his family and fill them in on everything.

I had him deliver a message for me—that Gianna will be staying with me for as long as she sees fit.

I won’t make her stay against her will. If she ever wants to leave, she can. If she thinks, in the future, that my child is better off without me, then I won’t stop her.

It would break my heart—probably kill me—but I won’t stop her, because if it comes to that point, she’s probably right.

My three best guards—Guillermo, Sebastien, and Diego—are with me on this island, watching my back, keeping their eyes peeled and their ears open.

No one in the world knows where we are, besides Patanza and Clark. I bought this island a long time ago—a private island in the waters between Morocco and Portugal. It’s used for tourists looking for a getaway spot, but we keep our distance from them. We’re never bothered.

My mother lives in an upgraded hut on this island, not too far away from Gianna and me. Though I’m not fully out of the business, I am close to being so. I’ve handed most of my assets and territory to Clark and Patanza, who are working hard to keep the Molina-Nicotera cartel up and running.

Patanza always reports back with good news, despite the many hiccups that come along with the job.

Fourteen months have passed, and the world wonders where I am. They wonder how I’ve suddenly disappeared, speculate that perhaps I died in the explosion that took my home.

The best things that have happened to me have happened while away from the chaos. Gianna and I got married when she was six months along. The wedding was very small—probably nothing in comparison to her first one, but it was real. A marriage built on sacrifices and promises. A marriage that was destined to happen. She is mine now, just like she was meant to be.

I know we can’t stay here forever.

In a few months, we’ll have to relocate again. I hate constantly being on the run, but I have no choice. To keep her and my child safe, I must. I will do anything for them. My own life is nothing without them.

An arm wraps around my waist, and I look from the stretched ocean, down at Gianna. Curled up in her arm is a baby with tan skin, chubby cheeks, fingers, and thighs. On top of the baby’s head is a curly bundle of shiny, ebony hair, and the baby’s eyes are the greenest I’ve ever seen. Greener than her mother’s.

My baby girl.

Mi hija.

Mi princesa.

“My girls.” I kiss Gianna on top of the head and then step around to pick Leona up. Leona, named after her grandfather—Lion. “Como esta mi niña!” My princess giggles, a sweet, innocent giggle I love hearing every single day. I curl her up in my arms, rocking her gently, letting her listen to the roar of the ocean. It always soothes her.

I never knew I could love someone so unconditionally—not until Leona was born. When she came into this world and looked at me with those big green eyes, I knew—I just knew that I would do anything for her. I knew I had to get out of this business. For her safety. For her future.

She doesn’t take my last name. No. It’s too dangerous, but with the middle name Molly, I guess it’s good enough. Close enough to Molina. Leona Molly Nicotera.

My world.

My everything.

Both of them.

Gianna stands on her toes, pressing a full, damp kiss on my lips. “I love you,” she murmurs. “Para siempre.”

A faint smile sweeps over my lips. “Para siempre, mi amor.”

When I look at Gianna, my beautiful wife, I have hope. When I see her for the first time every morning, I know I can’t fucking live without her. I can’t live without either of them.

Same goes for my mother, who is walking the beach and collecting shells. She comes up to me when she feels us watching and coos to Leona on her way, extending her arms when she’s close and reaching for her. Leona gives a playful grin, and Mamá laughs, rubbing the tip of her nose on hers. She’s so in love with her granddaughter. This is what she’s always wanted: To escape the madness, to breathe and live freely, to have a family.

These are people who love me, despite my ugly, shattered soul—despite the darkness that tries to consumes me. These people here, right in front of me, mean the fucking world to me, and apparently I mean just as much to them too.

I know we are not good people.

I know for damn sure I am not a good person.

Apart, we are savages—dangerous, lethal, and fucked up.

But together—fuck—we’re perfect.

Especially Gianna and I.

We’re real and passionate and…in love.

So fucking in love.

She pisses me off like no other. She lifts me up like no other woman can. She has held me down and has also pushed me to the brink of madness. She does so fucking much to me—so much that I can never understand…but it’s why I love her.

She is the light that guides me through the darkness. She continues to test me—push me. Even after letting it all go, she still keeps me on my toes.

I don’t know what this woman has done to me. I don’t know how I sank this fast, like being trapped in quicksand, unable to pull out. Putting up a fight only makes me sink faster.

We started out as hate and war. Passion and venom. Venom to ecstasy.

But now, we hold the same poisonous bite, and have achieved all the glory.

People will always be out for us, wanting to kill us, wanting to hurt her and my daughter, if they ever find out about her. I dare them to fucking try it.

Coming for her or for my daughter is coming for me, and, trust me, we won’t be going down without a fucking fight.

Rey and reina. King and queen. And soon enough, a princesa will rise and conquer the fucking world, too.

It’s El Jefe and La Patrona against the world.

Always together, until death does us part.

Fuck Bonnie and Clyde. They don’t have shit on us.

We may not be in plain sight, tucked away on this private island and away from the real world for now, but we will always rule.

I will always be The Jefe.

And the world better fucking remember that.