Delarosa Secrets 3
M/M Contemporary Crime & Mystery
This is book three in the Delarosa Secrets series.
When the truth comes out, Victor and Bieito must decide how strong their love really is.
Victor Delarosa has been the head of the Delarosa cartel for most of his adult life, and Bieito Perez has been there by his side the entire way. Yet Victor has secrets he’s kept hidden, even from his long-time lover, and when those secrets show up on Victor’s doorstep, he struggles to find a way to explain while hoping he won’t lose Bieito.
Being Victor Delarosa’s right-hand man and his lover is difficult at times for Bieito Perez, but he wouldn’t have his life any other way—until the day he realizes Victor’s been keeping secrets and he has to re-evaluate their relationship.
Between dealing with a rival cartel, law enforcement and everything else being a drug lord requires, Victor and Bieito need to redefine their lives and find the courage to say the word ‘love’ out loud before it’s too late for anything other than goodbye.
Taking a deep breath, Victor stopped himself from fidgeting. The head of the Delarosa cartel didn’t twitch—or show any other kind of nerves—even when he was worried about the man he loved. He shoved the thought deep into the back of his mind. Victor couldn’t think about love or the future. Being who he was, there wasn’t a future for him unless it was in a prison cell somewhere. Yet Victor held out hope he could change the outcome.
“Señor Perez’s car is at the gate,” Valdez spoke from where he stood in the doorway of Victor’s study.
He waved to show Valdez he’d heard him but didn’t say anything as he stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the manicured backyard. Can I do this? Is it possible for me to change my destiny? Giving a full-body shake, Victor focused on what he could control.
Someone had sold him out, and he was going to hunt the person down. No one snitched to law enforcement without feeling the consequences. He was sure Bieito was already on top of that.
Stuffing his hands into his pants pockets, he frowned as one of the guards roaming the grounds walked into sight. The man was smoking and had his gun slung over his shoulder instead of in his hands. Things had gotten lax here while Victor had been in Texas. That would stop right now. He wouldn’t allow any of the men to forget what their job was—protecting the compound from other cartels and the police.
He turned back to the room then picked up a pen to write a note for Bieito to call a meeting of the security unit. After that was done, he put the pen back into the drawer before pulling out a cell phone. No one knew about it, not even Bieito. He held it for a moment then returned it.
Victor tugged on his suit coat, shrugging it into position. Smoothing his hands down the front of it, he’d never admit it was to get rid of the sweat on his palms. Christ! When did I turn into such a nervous nelly? It’s not like I haven’t met Bieito before. Yet it was the first time he’d see him after Bieito had been arrested in order to keep Victor from being taken by the DEA in Houston.
I owe him so much, but how do I give him what he really wants when it would mean our deaths?
He asked that question of himself every day and hadn’t been able to come up with the right answer. Maybe someday he would, and they could be happy.
Valdez fell into step behind Victor as he left the study to make his way to the front of the house. He went out onto the porch just as the black sedan pulled up.
Bieito Perez stepped from the car almost before it had stopped. He wasn’t interested in waiting until the driver came around to open the door for him. There was one person he needed to see, and he knew Victor would be eager to see him as well. Straightening, he tugged on his sleeves, a nervous habit he’d tried to break several times but never figured out how.
Would Victor be angry with him for allowing himself to be arrested while Victor was spirited away? Bieito hoped his boss understood why he was willing to sacrifice his own freedom as long as Victor escaped. Lately, Victor had become unpredictable, and it was difficult to figure out exactly how the man would react to any situation.
“Perez, I’m glad you’re here. Come with me.” Victor motioned for him to follow.
What else was he supposed to do except go where his boss wanted him? He knew one of the servants would bring in his bag, so he entered the house, stretching his stride to keep up with Victor. Bieito dismissed Valdez with a nod before going into the study and shutting the door behind them.
Turning slowly, he braced to deal with whatever fallout might be coming his way. Victor studied him with those dark eyes, and Bieito shuddered, not hiding his reaction to that gaze. He leaned back against the door as Victor stalked toward him.
When Victor cupped his face, Bieito let his eyes drift shut and breathed. That was what he had needed ever since he’d walked out of the DEA headquarters in Houston. Victor’s touch grounded him, reminding him who he belonged to and what his purpose in life was.
“Tonight you’ll come to me so I can make sure nothing happened to you,” Victor ordered, his lips inches away from Bieito’s.
“Yes, sir,” he whispered, knowing that meant him being naked and Victor fucking him. He was fine with that.
Victor rubbed his thumb across Bieito’s bottom lip before stepping back. “Tell me what went on after I was spirited out of the house.”
Bieito took a deep breath, used to how Victor seemed to suck the air out of the room. “Agent Jefferson put me in cuffs and tried to get me to admit to working for you.”
A low growl told him Victor wasn’t happy with the cuffing part. Bieito eased toward him then slipped off his suit coat, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. He undid his cufflinks—stashing them in his shirt pocket—before rolling his sleeves up to show Victor his wrists.
“No marks. Jefferson isn’t that kind of man. He’s not interested in hurting me, just in arresting both of us for drug trafficking.” Bieito smiled, holding up his hands.
Victor inhaled sharply and Bieito knew he was holding on to his control with the tightest grip. Yet anyone else looking at Victor would see a man who was only slightly annoyed at the inconvenience of his right-hand man being arrested.