Page 11 of Bad Blood

“What are you going to do?” She peers up at me from underneath those dark lashes. “Run every guy who looks at me out of town?”

I’m rarely questioned—even less so in such a petulant tone. Biting back a knee jerk response, I filter my words through clenched teeth. “If I have to.”

There’s a long pause before my little sister tilts her face up at me, the stubborn set of her jaw frustratingly familiar. “It has been a year and a half. How long are you going to punish me?”

Until every trace of Sam Sanders is gone and forgotten.

Until I raze New York to the ground, leaving nothing but a bad memory.

I gaze at her, refusing to give my pain a voice. Emotion equals weakness, and all a man’s enemy needs is one crack. “I’m not punishing you, Lola,” I offer solemnly. “I’m protecting you.”

She stares at me, those bright blue eyes wide with something dangerously close to pity. “Do you know the difference?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” With a growl, I slam the glass down so hard, a piece chips off the bottom and skids across the bar.

She sighs. “Santi, you’re my big brother. I love you. But I’m family, not one of your men.” Lowering her gaze, she spins a silver bracelet on her wrist. “I wear the Carrera name, too.” she adds quietly.

“And the Santiago brand.”

Lola stiffens, her palm dropping from her wrist to cover her right hip. “That’s not fair.”

She’s right. She didn’t ask to get stalked and kidnapped by one of our family’s enemies. She didn’t carve a rival cartel’s initial into her own skin.

None of that was her fault.

My sister may have grown up as a cartel princess, but she’s hopelessly idealistic. She still sees the good in people.

“Life isn’t fair,chaparrita.The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

I brace for another argument. To my surprise, she inhales a breath and exhales resignation. “Ugh. I outgrew that nickname years ago, Santi.”

She didn’t, but “shorty”likes to think of herself as a cartel badass in stiletto heels.

“Too bad your height didn’t follow suit.”

Groaning at the jab, she leans in and bumps my shoulder. “I’ve missed you, you big asshole.”

My lips twitch, a rare smile threatening to break across my face. “I may have noticed your absence, once or twice.”

“Careful,” she says, lazily spinning a cocktail napkin with the tip of her fingernail. “That almost sounded like actual emotion.”

Anyone else would be picking up their teeth after such audacity, but my little sister is given liberties no one else is allowed.

In America, I am an island—a solitary extension of Mexico’s underground.An empire of one.The men in my inner circle are invaluable but not irreplaceable. But Lola is different.

Family is priceless. Other than power and vengeance, it’s the only thing I live for, and the one thing I’d die for. And, for as much danger as my sister’s presence brings, it also brings comfort.

Reaching across the bar counter, I tip her chin toward me. “No more surprises, okay? When I give you an order, it’s for a reason.”Her protection and my sanity.

She nods reluctantly, so I let it go.

Lifting my glass, I motion around the bar. “So how long have you been here?”

Her gaze travels toward the empty chair of my soon-to-be-ex-floor manager. “Long enough.”

Growing up as the child of one of the most feared men in the world doesn’t allow for the luxury of ignorance. She knows his fate.

That off-beat silence dances between us again, and this time it’s laced with tension.