EL DIABLO II Read online

  In one swift movement, he handed me his Glock. “Are you? You want in my business? Then you’re going to have to earn it. You think you can meet El Diablo and not burn in Hell? You want to challenge me? Then man up, hijo. Show me what you’re made of.”

  “Oh my God,” Adriana breathed out. “It’s true then? You were the most feared man in all the world? You were El Diablo?”

  “Adriana—”

  She cut him off, “Answer me!”

  He was in her face before the last word left her mouth. His abrupt movement caused her to stumble over her footing, falling right onto the couch. He peered down at her, hovering above my sister with nothing but blistering dominance radiating from his skin.

  “You don’t ever raise your voice to me, peladita.”

  She shook her head, not believing her eyes.

  I forced myself to keep my shit together. The eerie quietness surrounding us wasn’t aiding my disposition. I felt my nerves creeping up on me once again, adding to the endless questions I knew I’d never get answers to.

  “Your entire life, I have protected you from—”

  “You,” I finished his sentence for him.

  Our eyes locked.

  In that moment, I understood this was a test—one that had been carried out many, many times before tonight.

  Was this how he was made into El Diablo? Did my grandfather do this to him too? Was this how Martinez men were made?

  My body moved on autopilot, like it was being pulled by an invisible string. Evoking a reaction I could neither explain nor deny, crossing that imaginary line between Heaven and Hell. A mystifying force, so fucking consuming there was no point in defying it. The choice was made for me.

  It was in my blood.

  My DNA.

  The truth reflected back at me with each step bringing me closer to my maker.

  I stood tall, looking the Devil right in the eyes. “I always thought you faked your death because you were hiding from men who wanted your blood on their hands. That wasn’t it at all, was it?”

  “One day you’ll learn that acting on thoughts will only get you killed. Facts, son, or you’re just wasting my time.”

  “You want facts?” I scoffed, my lips curled into a silent snarl as I stared him down. “I’ll give you the most important one. You weren’t hiding from anyone but yourself. That’s the truth to your imaginary death, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not a fact, it’s a question. When you come for me, Crucifixio, you make damn sure you control your tone and emotions. It only clouds your judgment. You’re making it far too easy for me to use it against you.” He leaned in, staring deep into my eyes. “Which explains why you think you can step up to me and not feel the wrath of my hand. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Like you said, I don’t think, I know…I’m the son of the Devil.”

  My father cocked his head to the side, giving a curt nod to the gun still in my hand. “Then prove it.”

  “Cruz, this is ridiculous. He’s baiting you. Papá, what game are you playing right now?”

  “I don’t play games, Adriana. I’m simply teaching your brother about what he’s making his business. It’s survival. It’s the difference between being King or bowing down to one. You’re a college graduate now. A man.” He moved aside, allowing Ambrosio to come into my sight. “Here’s your chance to earn your seat at my table.”

  I stood there frozen, cemented to the floor that was caving beneath me. Time seemed to stand still as Ambrosio’s eyes bore into mine, which only started to unravel a deep resolve within my core. It didn’t help I could physically feel Adriana’s apprehension, beating its way into my body as she waited for his blood to flow over my hands.

  My heart pounded against my chest, sweat pooled at my temples. The longer I stood there, the harder it was for me to pull the trigger. I could feel my father’s concentrated stare, burning a hole into the side of my face.

  Ambrosio didn’t bat an eye. There was no fear in his expression. No worry in his composure. Nothing. Not one fucking reaction. I couldn’t help but wonder what made him that way.

  Was it working for my father?

  Has he seen too much?

  Did he know I wouldn’t be able to do it?

  The man was made of stone when he should have been crumbling to the ground. Begging for his life, or at least uttering his last words.

  An apology.

  A second chance.

  Mercy.

  Can I do this?

  Do I have it in me? To take a life that doesn’t belong to me, all in the name of family.

  From the second my gaze connected with Ambrosio’s, a profound sense of doubt and guilt tore through me. I was balancing on this tightrope that was my conscience.

  Each time Ambrosio blinked, I imagined he had a family.

  A wife.

  A daughter.

  A son.

  A goddamn dog.

  Overtaking the small space between us.

  “Now or never, Crucifixio.”

  His words were caving in on me. Dwelling in this dark hollow space of my heart and soul, I didn’t know I had until this moment, making me question absolutely everything.

  Especially, whether I’m made for this hell…

  I was crawling in my own skin, feeling a complete loss. My gut churned with indecisiveness, igniting an unfamiliar shiver to run down my spine, but just as fast as it came it was gone.

  The Devil was on my shoulder.

  My father.

  Our father.

  El Diablo.

  I couldn’t control all the emotions, slamming me in the face. The unanswered what-ifs that spun around in my head with the current situation I found myself in. All at the will of my father.

  As if reading my mind, he stepped out in front of me again. Placing himself in the line of my fire, blocking reality and Ambrosio from my view.

  Adriana breathed out a huge sigh of relief when he stated, “Your mother would be proud.”

  “And you?”

  Slowly, he backed away, nodding for his men to follow.

  I thought the words, “You want to be a Martinez?” would forever haunt me.

  I was wrong.

  With one last intense look in my direction, he declared the fate of my future.

  “The Devil was an angel once, Crucifixio. And don’t you ever forget that.”

  Chapter 3

  —Cruz—

  “What the fuck was that?” Adriana roared, slamming the door to my Ferrari.

  “Relax.”

  The red sportscar was a gift from my father for my twenty-first birthday. It wasn’t out of the norm for me to receive such an extravagant gift, especially from him. We lived in one of the wealthiest cities in all of Southern Italy, off the Amalfi Coast in the Province of Salerno. It wasn’t unusual for us to still live at home. It was common in Italy. Your parents provided for you until it was your turn to provide for your parents.

  Family was everything.

  The house we grew up in was a massive, gorgeous Mediterranean style home located on a cliff, overlooking the water. Money was never an issue for us. Whatever we wanted, we were given. No questions asked. Much to our mother’s disapproval, our father had always shown us the finer things in life.

  Their upbringings were very different. In fact, complete opposite ends of the spectrum. She was poor and grew up in a foster home until she was eighteen-years-old. Her guardians didn’t hesitate to throw her out into the real world on her ass. As soon as they weren’t receiving a check from the government to provide a roof over her head, it was gone.

  Despite the shitty hand she was dealt, our mother was resilient, a survivor. In her prime, she was a Prima Ballerina, one of the best from what we’d been told. She performed all over the world in sold-out theatres filled to the brim with people who were simply mesmerized by her skills and untouchable talent. Ballet may have owned her heart, but her soul had forever belonged to our father.

  Alejandro Martinez.


  Ever since I could remember, she danced only for him.

  While our mother’s humble roots played a huge role in our upbringing, it didn’t change the fact that our father grew up with wealth beyond anyone’s imagination. He owned planes, jets, cars, homes all over the world. The list of capital he held was endless.

  At times it felt like the only way he knew how to express his love for us, was through material possessions. It was as if he thought he could make up for the sins of his past through giving us what we wanted. When what we craved was the truth he couldn’t form into words, at least not to us.

  “Ari, don’t start.”

  “Don’t start? Don’t start!” she stressed, allowing her temper to get the best of her. With her full attention turned to me, she exclaimed, “Are you serious? You can’t be serious! Were you not just in that living room with me? Did you hear what he wanted you to do? For what, Cruz? To show some loyalty to la familia? What the hell does that even mean?”

  “Ari…” I warned, my patience wearing thin.

  “You cannot shut me up this time! I have turned a blind eye to this bullshit for far too long! All our lives we’ve known something was wrong! The way people are around him! Come on, Cruz! That shit is not normal! Or must I remind you of the bodyguards who are tailing us right now, and all we’re doing is driving to a goddamn graduation party?”

  I didn’t want to go to the damn party. Yet, there I was, wearing an Armani tuxedo with fucking Italian leather shoes. Chaperoning my pain-in-the-ass sister at a celebration where I didn’t know anyone in attendance.

  “Adriana, enough. You need to calm down.”

  “I need to calm down? How about you need to react! How the hell do you stay so calm? You’re just as eerie and daunting as he is. You know that, right? The older you get, the more you act like him. The more you look like him too!”

  “Is that supposed to offend me, Ari? Because last time I checked, our father has given us everything.”

  “Except for the truth about who he was…is. And now he pulls this stunt? How do you expect me to react? He just taunted you to murder someone in cold blood, and you’re sitting here like it didn’t fucking happen!” She waved her hand wildly in the direction of our home.

  I snapped, immediately turning the wheel while simultaneously slamming on the brakes, causing it to skid sideways before coming to a complete stop.

  “Carajo!” I shouted, “Fuck” in Spanish. Waving off the guards who were suddenly hauling ass out of their vehicles to see what was up. “What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to tell you how I feel? Is that what you want?”

  “Yes! For once I’d love to know what you’re thinking, instead of playing it cool like you have this stick up your ass!”

  “Adriana, just ask me what you really want to know, instead of wasting my time with your fucking temper tantrums.”

  “I am not throwing a fit! I am not a little girl.”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me with a piercing stare, further pissing me off.

  “Fine. If I hadn’t been there,” she finally specified, “would you have taken his life? Would you have killed that man?”

  “I would do anything to protect you, Ari.”

  She blinked and her eyes glazed over. “Then you’d kill for me?”

  “If I had to, I’d die for you.”

  She gasped, pulling away from me.

  “Ari—”

  “It doesn’t make you any better than El Diablo, Cruz. You remember those news articles, right? Alejandro Martinez, notorious crime boss of New York City has been laid to rest after he was gunned down in his downtown Manhattan penthouse. The investigation is still open, and there are no leads at this time on who is responsible for taking the life of the man, most commonly known as El Diablo. Justice has been served. Proving that the good guys can win, in the end.”

  “Jesus Christ, you memorized it?”

  “Of course I did. You want to know what else I remember? Mom telling us that he faked his death and changed his name to protect us from his past, when in reality it was his crimes he didn’t want us to know about. How many people have died from his hands, Cruz? And how many more will die from yours?”

  “You’re upset, Adriana. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, brother. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I’m saying. We’ve searched for the truth and it’s been right in front of our eyes this entire time. We knew who he was and what he was capable of. We just pretended like we didn’t. For what though? What was the point of him shielding me from his world when you were always going to be part of it? If it was going to come down to this… to you having to step up or bow down, then why wait? Why didn’t he tell us from the beginning what your fate was? The truth is he’s been raising another man to be just like him,” she paused, allowing her words to sink in.

  “Is that what you want, Cruz? His legacy? To be the new devil?” she inquired, aware I was already lost in my own thoughts.

  My father’s remark rang in my ears. “The mere fact that I told you he betrayed us is enough justification to want to make it right. Family over everything, Crucifixio. Including life.”

  Her questions and his words only fueled the remorse and shame I felt for not following through with protecting my family.

  I took a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of leather and cologne that surrounded me. “Don’t test me, Adriana. You won’t like the outcome.”

  She scoffed in disgust, sitting face forward in the passenger seat. Not giving me a second glance.

  Shifting the stick back into drive, I hit the gas and we were off with our father’s guards closely behind us.

  “You’re my brother, Cruz. You’ll always be my brother, and I don’t want to lose you to a war over your soul.”

  I’d be lying if I said her words weren’t affecting me. Clearly, they were.

  “What if something happens to you?”

  “It won’t.”

  “How do you know that? El Diablo has a lot of enemies, remember?”

  “El Diablo is dead, Adriana.”

  “Not if you’re the resurrection of him.”

  I didn’t know how to reply, so I stayed quiet. It was better to allow her to assume the worst than blatantly admit it to her. We drove the rest of the way in deafening silence until we arrived at the mansion, hosting the party.

  She was the first to break the barrier as we walked up to the front door. “You know, you don’t have to guard me like a whipped dog tonight. I can enjoy the evening and so can you.”

  “Nice try, Ari, but you’re not leaving my sight.”

  “Cruz, you’re suffocating me. Just give me an hour to myself.”

  “To do what exactly?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…” She mischievously smiled. “Maybe make friends without my brother and three armed men beside me. Huh, what a concept.”

  “For fuck sake, is it that time of the month? Enough with the bitch attitude, Ari. You know your manipulation never works on me like it does with our mother.”

  “I bet she’d let me have some privacy if she were here.”

  “Well she’s not, so you’re going to have to deal with me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she muttered in a low whisper, nodding to the hostess at the entrance of the property.

  “Welcome, Cruz and Adriana Martinez.”

  It wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to know who we were. Our father changed his name after he faked his death, but he was adamant we kept ours. To the world, we were just another Martinez. No one put two-and-two together, even though I was the spitting image of him.

  With my hair slicked back away from my face, it only heightened my strong cheekbones and jawline. Mirroring his signature features. My tan skin and dark facial hair only added to my appealing allure. Although, it was my green eyes that caught everyone’s attention the most. From what I’d been told since
I was a young boy, my intense stare looked like it could reach into your soul and possess you.

  Exactly like my father.

  We were one in the same. If anyone questioned my identity, there was no denying we were father and son.

  The hostess smiled at me, flipping her blonde hair to the side. “Please enjoy yourselves and if you need anything, I mean anything, I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  Adriana groaned, and I gave the hostess a curt nod. I was used to women throwing themselves at me. Occasionally, I returned their affection. Mostly, it was when I wanted to get my dick sucked. Pussy came easy. They knew I’d give as well as I received. My reputation in the bedroom followed me everywhere I went.

  We walked inside, making our way through the grand, angled staircases. Covered with intricate latticework on every step. Opening up to a wide foyer with shiny marble floors. Walls descended as far as I could see.

  “Are there any women that don’t come on to you? Wasn’t it enough that I had to hear about your harem in every corner of our academy and college? There’s no escaping your extracurricular activities, brother.”

  “You mean my fucks?”

  “Ugh. You’re so crass.”

  “Sticks and stones, Ari.”

  She rolled her eyes at me when I teasingly bumped her shoulder, as I placed my hands in the pockets of my slacks.

  “I want a life, Cruz.”

  “You have a life, Adriana.”

  “Not the same one you have.”

  “You haven’t been paying attention, sister. Do you think I’d let you spread your legs for every son-of-a-bitch that looks your way? I’d break his fucking dick before he had the chance to lay on top of you.”

  “And what if I wanted to lay on top of him?”

  “Then you’d be laying on top of his casket.”

  “Ugh! You’re so frustrating! Do you hear the hypocrisy in your statements?” She gestured with one hand— “Hi Pot” and then the other— “Meet kettle.”

  I did what I do best when she annoyed me, I ignored her. Walking down the long corridor, I went about my business which was basically babysitting Adriana. I took in my surroundings first like I was conditioned to do everywhere I went. Being overly cautious, my eyes scanned the sea of people. There were bodyguards and security covering their posts in different locations around the wide space, along with cameras strategically placed around the manor.