The King Killer | Mafia dark romance | ✔️

2. Daddy, let's kill

"Val, put down the gun." With exposed palms, he looked at me. Sadness poured from his eyes, his dipped voice. He never imagined I would be the one to betray him. "Por favor no dispares." *Please don't shoot*

The bullet left my gun, roaring through the air. It only took a second before being embedded in the target. My heart lurched, watching him bleed through his chest.

I shot my husband.

~

One year ago

My instructions were very clear. I was bred for this moment since seven. Although my nerves flared, I knew how to curb them. After all, this wasn't the first time, I was putting up a show to entice someone. Unlike other cartel women, I knew what I was being prepared for. I wasn't the scapegoat sent to the Los Zetas syndicate, I was the trump card.

Daddy's trump card.

"Are you ready?" Dad walked into my room, a smile appeared on his crumpled face.

Over the past fifty years, he had suffered in silence, endured the betrayal of enemies and imbibed it in every wrinkled line of his skin. Every step he took hurt him, the trembling walking stick and the pain dancing on his face confirmed it. He engulfed it with a confident sneer.

"You look good." Moving closer, he lent his shaky hand. "Vamonos."

Dad's cartel days were numbered with him unable to help much since the incident. The consequence of not having a male heir was quite evident. Our business would be taken over by the Moralez - the leading cartel family.

Before we entered dad's chambers, I squeezed his hand. He may have grown old and weary, yet there was determination lurking behind those milky eyes. Looking at me, his lips parted. A smile emerged. Although he wanted to assure everything would turn out fine, his eyes conveyed the truth.

Dad was as terrified as I was.

Still, we Ramirez' wouldn't go down without a fight.

Facing the golden ornate double door, I felt my mouth turning sour. Having been prepared for this day, the turmoil from facing the reality felt different, sickening. Every option from running away to jumping off a cliff looped in my mind.

Dad's gentle hand squeeze pulled me back to reality. This was happening.

The help pushed opened the doors. Draft blew my perfectly placed hair. Pulling them affront, I walked in, resting my hand over dad. It didn't take long for us to spot them - the Moralez heirs.

Sitting in the middle of his family seating, I saw him. El Demonio.

His stoic gaze travelled up and down, evaluating his prey - me. The man didn't have a hint of an expression, yet intriguing enough to catch my attention. Neatly placed hair and hooded eyes reminded me of the last time I saw him. With raised eyebrows, the predator slid back on his chair, crossing his legs. Confidence and arrogance went hand in hand with this man whose crimson touched face and bloodshot gaze shifted momentarily to his brothers.

The other two men who sat on adjacent sides of his had striking resemblance to their father, Carlos, the head of the syndicate.

Dad dragged a chair. The room echoed with a screech, souring the tips of my teeth. The demon and I were locked in a staring match. His glance didn't waver, neither did mine.

Never show your back to the predator. I didn't.

The help closed the doors behind. Thud.

"We all know the takeover is impending." Dad broke the silent treaty. "With my position in the cartel gone, I would...I mean..." His voice wavered and the smile on his face was wiped clean with what he said. "I won't be able to fend for my daughter. She is my everything and..."