Cristiano.

His mind wandered again and again back to his wife. 

His new home should have felt like home, but being there alone without her by his side felt...wrong.  No amount of music, the smell of coffee, even the furniture filling up the space felt alien.  He stared at the paperwork on his in-home office, undisturbed since their sexual encounter just two weeks ago. 

It felt more like a lifetime. 

He was a prisoner.  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the look in Yasmina's face after she used him.  Her victory for making him feel worthless worked. She deliberately used and discarded him in the same manner he did to her.

A new found disgust for his actions flooded him.  

Her rejection settled deeply in his bones.  He was burning with angry shame.  It was terrible to humiliated by his own actions in front of a woman whose respect and admiration he longed for. 

He swallowed his pride.  His insecurities overtaking him.

He couldn't fault her.  He deserved much more and he still didn't deserve a woman such as her.  After days of wondering, thinking, he understood she was wounded and lashing out. He'd forgotten his Yasmina had claws and showed them rarely. It's one of the unique qualities that attracted him to her. 

But it was her expression alone left him standing in a dead end.  It was cold and lacked remorse.  The innocent, alluring woman he'd met nearly a year ago no longer existed.  The woman who had hope in her eyes and a bright and successful future burned to a crisp. 

She was different. 

The look in her hard eyes was different. 

Her heart had hardened.

She truly did not need him or want him in her life. 

He'd torn through her life, broke down her confidence, ruined her future and sentenced her to a life she never asked for. 

Cristiano hung his head.  He'd lost her.  Torn apart by deception. 

He'd made a mistake.  A horrible mistake.  Believing that there was nothing as important as protecting his family, his legacy, his empire.  It continued to cost him.  Dearly.   He never thought in his life, he'd ever reach this low point in his life.  Never in his life had he ever had to work so hard for anything. 

She was challenging his every weakness.  Pushing him past his limits and he honestly did not know what to do next.  Should he beg at her feet some more?  What more would it take for her to see they were meant for one another?  He'd said everything he meant in his heart.  He showed her everything he'd promised.  But she still didn't allow him in her heart. 

He wanted more of a chance to show her that he loved her.  But even that didn't work if she wasn't prepared to forgive him.

What was it going to take to break down the icy wall keeping her heart caged from him?  What was the key?  Did he even have another chance to make things right?

Cristiano raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration. 

The prospect of retiring to his old life without her was unbearable.  But how could he face her, continue concealing the desperation beneath the surface of stoic resolve.  He didn't know. 

It hurt.  It hurt to know your love was one-sided.  It hurt to know it was entirely his own fault.  He did this to himself and lead her to do this to him.   There was no point in having everything if he couldn't share it with the woman he loved.  She was home, his beacon of light,  his heart and his entire soul.

Cristiano ran his thumb over his own gold wedding band. It had become apart of him just as much as she had. 

He couldn't go on like this, hating himself.   He was going to have to learn to live in his own skin somehow, and he would need her help to learn how to do that.  She was his strength, his reason for living. . .and he had driven her away. 

His life depended on his next course of action.  If she needed more time to learn to trust him so be it.  He'd wait for the rest of his life it took that long.  Whatever she demanded from him he'd give it to her–emotion, energy, even vulnerability. 

"She is driving me crazy."  He whispered to himself, staring up at the moonlight creeping slowly across the ceiling.

It was time to release his misery and stop acting like a wounded lion with a thorn in his paw. 

The door to his study opened.  He whirled to the sound. 

"Your highness, I apologize for interrupting." Giovanni was out of breath.  "It's Mateo."

Cristiano stared at him holding his breath. 

"Our contacts have traced his whereabouts.  It seems he has been traveling and used his passport.  He is here in California.  We could not find is exact location but the database has traced he was traveling with a female–."

Dread filled him. 

"Sofia?"  Cristiano cut him mid-sentence. 

The sound of her name passed his own lips was hollow.

"Her passport was not used but surveillance footage showed a woman of the same height and dark hair.  Her face was obscured by sunglasses and she was dressed entirely in black.  Mateo had a protective arm around her.  They left the airport together."

Frustration escalated to rage.

All of a sudden an unusual chill spread through him.  He tensed.  Something was wrong and the first name that popped into him mind was Yasmina. 

His heart began slamming against his ribs.

She was in danger.  How he sensed this he did not know, but he knew something was definitely wrong. 

Cristiano bolted right past a bewildered Giovanni and ran to the front door. 

The only sound in the dark cold night was the pounding of his footsteps reverberating off the concrete, and the roaring of his pulse in his ears.  He plunged ahead, darting parked cars in the dark wide street.  He was a bit out of breath from running, reaching the house as it loomed like a gigantic castle ahead.  Cristiano bent over, resting briefly with his hands on his thighs, then straightened up, his chest heaving, and stalked towards the house. 

Raking a hand through his hair, his body shaking with exertion and fury, Cristiano darted to the right, hiding behind bushes, trying to peer past them into one of the windows.  He slid his gun out of the holster and approached the entrance of the house with long swift strides. 

There were no security personal evident guarding the house.  As he approached the stairs to the front door, the corner of his eye caught sight of a pair of shoes in a cluster of bushes.  Cristiano aimed his gun, slowly taking the steps one by one as they figure came closer into view. 

It was a guard.  Lying lifelessly, his throat slashed in the corner.  His body was thrown carelessly in the bushes as if his life and was of no consequence.  Shock slammed into him as he gazed into the familiar dead eyes of the guard, but shock quickly gave way to intense anger. 

Cristiano took a deep breath as tension thrummed through him and continued to climb the steps.  His eyes scanned the surrounding area cautiously.  As he reached the final step, he found another body.  It was a man laying face down.  He instantly recognized the jacket with the pizza logo on the back. 

It was a delivery man.  Dead.  A pool of blood spreading in a circle by his head. 

Cristiano was completely motionless.  He shut his mind off trying to focus on his pursuit.  Tuning his sense to the night, he strained to hear anything, to find anything that would give him a clue before he entered the house. 

Then, for the first time, he picked up on voices and they were coming from the inside of the house. A scream pierced the night and echoed loudly through the night.  Icy fingers crushed my hammering heart to a dead stop.  No....No, God, not again. 

What he felt was sheer panic and loss on a level he hadn't felt since that day in her penthouse.

This was not some random visit.  There was no one else that would do this.  There was no one else that would commit these horrendous crimes.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the horrendous deaths of the two men he passed could have been done by one man and one man only:  Mateo and he was out for blood with no regard other than to achieve one purpose.

Cristiano realized too late that Mateo hadn't been fleeing from him, but had been hunting his own prey. 

This was a fight he was well prepared for, and one that was long overdue. 
*****
What the hell?

Sammy froze, the color draining from his face. 

The pizza was here but delivered by the last two people he'd ever expected.

It was Mateo, Cristiano's right hand man and Cristiano's very beautiful ex-fiancée Alessandra.  They held the pizza together, side-by-side with their free hands drew out their guns.  Sammy retreated uncertainty, pushed back by their sheer, intimidating  presence.

"I specifically ordered a pizza not an assholian sausage pizza."  Sammy whispered, holding his hands up in surrender. 

"Ciao Samuel!  Long time no see."

Alessandra's voice was far more jovial than Sammy expected but it was the trick that broke through his shock.  Her smile was wide, and her eyes were light, greeting him like they were long lost friends.

This couldn't be good, he thought. 

"Jesus tit on Christ, here we go again."  Sammy muttered. 

He stiffened, realizing he said the words out loud.

He slowly backed away from the door as they forcefully entered.  Mateo kicked the door closed with his leg effortlessly, waving his gun at him. 

"Here is your pizza!  It's still warm."  Alessandra says, taking told of the entire box and offering it to Sammy as if it was a peace offering. 

"Just because you delivered my pizza doesn't mean we're Oprah and Gayle!  Hand off the pizza, puttana (bitch)!"  Sammy exclaims, reaching for his pizza and snatching it to his chest. 

She made a tsk sound with her tongue.  "This is no way to greet an old acquaintance, Samuel.  At least try to be civil and thank me."

"Some people just suck the fucking nice right out of ya.  They have nobody to blame but themselves!"  He sneered in disgust. 

"But we got along so well."  She argued, playfully.  "Don't you recall how you and I flirted during dinner!"

"I have multiple personalities and none of them like you or him."  He nods at her partner, Mateo.  Sammy stared an extra long minute at Mateo who looked ready to murder him with his laser sharp glare.  "If you were a parking ticket, you would've got fine written all over you.  What a waste."  Sammy shakes his head.  "Mhmmmmm, absolutely fuckaliscious." He said in a low voice that he thought went unheard. 

"If you don't shut your mouth, the first thing I will do is shoot you in it!"  Mateo stalked toward shim, obviously angry, pointing his gun in the center of his head. 

Sammy flinched.  "Take a pill, man!  That was a compliment!  Geez!"

"Where's the girl?"  Mateo demanded, pressing the head of his gun against his temples. 

Sammy fluttered his eyelashes profusely and opened and closed his mouth, dropping the pizza to the floor.  "What girl?"  He played stupid, hoping to buy Jasmine time so she could hide from these scumbags.  "There's nobody here but the cook, Mona.  The woman is in the kitchen.  She gets on my nerves all the damn time."

Mateo cocked his gun.  "Try again."

Jasmine quickly switched off the lights and pressed her body against the wall still in the living room.  Her stomach curdled as if she'd eaten something rotten.  A ball of nausea wedged itself into her throat.  She leaned over, breathing heavily. 

What was she going to do?  She was acutely aware of the rising savagery in Mateo's tone.  Her first impulse was protect Sammy.  It intensified to an almost panicked need, especially now that a gun was pointed at his head.  If she didn't do something soon, Sammy was going to be hurt. 

What was Mateo's motive?  Why come to her home and demanded her?  Shouldn't he be looking for Cristiano?  What did she have to do with anything?

At that moment, another contraction caught her off guard.  Jasmine bent over in pain, using the wall to keep her body upright.  A low moan she couldn't stop escaped her lips.  The pain was so intense she collapsed to the floor, kneeling on her hands and knees as a long wave of pain braced her body. 

Sweat began to accumulate on her forehead. She took deep breaths through her nose and exhaled trying to desperately breath through it.  Past her pain, she heard the shuffling of shoes on the tile floor.  They were becoming closer as she tried to concentrate. 

Slowly, turning back, her throat went dry and her heart seemed to stop beating as her as her legs suddenly became weak.  She used the wall to support her as she sluggishly moved but she stumbled. She was shaking so badly she could barely  crawl and find place to hide herself. 

Her gaze rested on the carpet. 

Tears streamed down Jasmine's face as she tried to inhale heaping gulps of air.  Mateo had a gun.  He was looking for her.  And she was sure he was not going to hesitate to use it against her.  She was faced with one option only and that was to face the true villain.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Jasmine placed her hands on the floor and stood. She couldn't wallow in self-pity and cry.  She didn't have time for that.  She stood for a moment feeling numb as she tried to get her bearings.  She was tired of running, tired of hiding, and very tired of being frightened.  It was time to take a stand. 

Searching for anything that could pose as a weapon she never had the chance when the footsteps stopped.  Jasmine went completely still, her eyes widening.  She was spun around and came face to face with Mateo and his evil eyes.  She recoiled when he took another step toward her.

"You know what I'm going to do to you, don't you?"  He whispered.

Mateo smiled slightly. 

She clenched her jaw and held his stare in defiance, her chest heaving. 

"What do you want?"  She demanded. 

"You had to come into our lives and ruin everything.  I told him to forget you.  I told him you were going to cause us more trouble than you're worth.  But no," He shook his head. "His obsession with you overpowered his sense of logic.  He marries you and gets you pregnant.  I cannot not allow his heirs to live and once you die, Cristiano is next and the throne will finally be mine."

Jasmine was dizzy with fear.  He was planning to kill her and her unborn babies.  When he took a step towards her, she backed away and stumbled falling backwards, arms flailing.  She closed her eyes readying her body for the impact of the hard floor and twisting her body in an angle that would try to save the impact from hurting her unborn children. 

But her back hit softness.  She had stumbled into the sofa.  Jasmine gasped, her chest rising and falling. 

"I'm going to make it slow." He told her and brought his face close to hers and he was on her, his weight crushing her. 

His hands tugged at her white silk blouse.  She gasped with shocked horror as he ripped it open down her front with one lightning like movement. 

"I'm going to sample you myself and see what my pathetic cousin ever saw in you than I will break every bone in your body before I kill you."  He racked his eyes over her body.   "We cannot leave any survivors alive to threaten my succession to the throne." 

"You're Cristiano's cousin?"  She asked, sobbing and cringing hoping to buy herself more time from what he planned.  

He never answered, the only sounds in the room was that of his heavy breathing.  Jasmine dimly heard Alessandra and Sammy in the background somewhere in the house.

Cheeks burning with shame, she bit her lower lip, fighting tears of rage.  She tried to stop him and push against his chest but he stopped her. Her attempts would be futile.  She was no match for his strength and she could not risk injury to herself because of her babies. 

Jasmine was saying a prayer over and over in her mind, eyes closed.   Against her body, she could feel Mateo's heart pounding in his chest.  Her desperation increased as she cast about for some means of escape.  But there was none.  She was trapped between his body and the sofa and could no way escape his assault. 

There was a thump.  Something soft but heavy vibrated the floor.

Her eyes flew open wide, turning her head to the source of the noise.

"Look at me!"  Mateo ordered. 

He yanked back her hair, causing her head to jerk back.  She screamed in agony.  And all her captor did was pull at her hair tighter and cause her more pain. 

Blocking her view was Mateo's sadistic face, inches away from her own.  He forced his lips on hers in a painful ravishment that was meant to teach fear.  When he pulled away, Mateo smiled at the expression on her face.  He ran a hand up the inner thigh of her skirt. 

"You have no right."  She whispered, shaking. 

"He isn't here to save you.  You'll never see your prince. . .My face will be the last you ever set your eyes on. . ."

Mateo continued to talk but Jasmine did not listen. 

Her focus riveted on the dark and huge figure as he stepped closer, looming in silent gliding power behind Mateo.  Her spirit breathed a sigh of relief.  She caught a glimpse of his hard, angular face, and it was not the expression of a man.  His eyes were full of wrath, he looked like an angel of death. 

Cristiano, her soul breathed. 

He had come. 

Of course he had come.  And she was never glad to see him more than she did at that very moment. 

With tears in her eyes, she stared straight ahead.  She could feel a volcanic force of rage building from where Cristiano stood.  She lifted her head high at the crushing shame at what he saw.  Trembling, violently, she could not bear to look at him as he stalked toward them. 

Cristiano was breathing hard as he took in the scene before him.  His body was crying out for blood.  He wanted to beat his former friend into a pulp for even touching her.  He wanted to kill him for hurting her. 

Before the night was over, he promised himself Mateo would be dead, if it was the last thing he ever did. 

"Let her go."

Jasmine sobbed his name. 

Mateo glanced behind him with a sneer.

The gun Cristiano was pointing at Mateo was as cold and deadly as his expression.  He cocked the gun, assessing his aim at Mateo's head. 

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal sire.  I was hoping we would finally run into each other again."  With a single smooth movement Mateo twisted behind Jasmine, using her body and the sofa to block his own.  "Come closer and I'll kill her."

Tension thrummed through him as he took a step closer.  Cristiano's teeth ground together as he glared at the monster he once considered a dear friend.  They were inseparable as children.  They shared many adventures, shared many laughs, shared meals, saw the world together, exchanged secrets. . . Decades of friendship burning to a crisp. 

Now, Mateo was one of his greatest enemies. 

He put his thick hands around her neck.  Jasmine flinched, then struggled feeling another bout of contractions hit her.  She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth at the pain searing her abdomen.  Groaning, she tried desperately to suppress her pain.

Cristiano uncocked the gun, pointing it at the ceiling.  "You really are a coward."

Jasmine took a long, shuddering gasp of air, fixing her stare and all her faith in him.  His tone was coldly scornful, his stance relaxed, his body sleek and lean.  Dressed entirely in black, he moved with predatory graze.  She stared, mesmerized, but Cristiano did not even look at her. 

To Jasmine's horror, Cristiano threw the gun on the floor, then straightened with a scornful expression.  "I'm unarmed.  Fight me like a man."  He taunted.  "Or are you frightened I could best you?  I always have." 

What was he thinking?  He had a clear advantage to shoot him.  But not once had he looked at her.  His dark stare stayed riveted on Mateo. 

Mateo's lip curled in a contemptuous sneer as his dark eyes raked over Cristiano.  "You truly have changed Cris."  Calling him by his childhood nickname. "Such a disappointment!  Turing against your nature, your own kind! And all for what?  A girl!  Blinded by love!

Cristiano was trying hard to keep himself under control.  He couldn't let Mateo bait him into losing his temper. 

To Jasmine's surprise Mateo dropped his own gun beside her on the sofa.  She couldn't help but stare at the sleek black firearm.  He easily jumped over the furniture like a sleek lion and stormed toward Cristiano. 

They began to circle one another. 

With a roar Cristiano sprung forward.  They collided, the sound of their attack rumbled through the living room and breaths echoing through the room. Cristiano grabbed his shirt, swung his sideways and slammed him headfirst into the wall.  The two men fought while Jasmine watched in terror, desperately struggling to sit upright. 

Cristiano slammed his fist into Mateo's jaw.  Mateo spat with fury as his own fist met Cristiano's chest.  He didn't feel the pain as he pounded into his abdomen.  He continued to tear at him until Cristiano seized hold of his throat using his full strength.

In a sleek movement, Mateo easily knocked Cristiano's chokehold.

"I am your true-born cousin, Cristiano.  You can't kill me."  Mateo panted, deflating his relentless blows.

"Lie!"  Cristiano spat.

"My mother, your father's sister had an illegitimate child in secret before your parents married.   Your father's former lieutenant and his wife struggled to have a child for years.  You see, once I was born, I was given to them to spare the crown scandal.  I was brought up as their son and grew up beside you as your closest friend.  The secret died with your parents and my adoptive ones.  I found the letter years later after their deaths.   I am your cousin by blood whether you want it or not. 

Cristiano had gone quiet, staring at him with raw hatred.

"I'm sick of being second best.  I'm sick of hiding behind you.  I'm here to take what should have been rightfully mine before you were ever born.  Once your dead, everything will be mine!"  Mateo shouted. 

"No one will ever believe you."  He stated in a low voice, shaking his head. 

Mateo took out a document out of his back pocket and waved it at him.  "This will be sufficient evidence to take what should have been my birthright!  Not you, your sister or any army on earth will take this from me.  I've waited years for the best opportunity.  I've planned for years.  Your life will end today and mine will be reborn!" 

"Where is Sofia?"  Cristiano asks, eyeing the document with doubtful eyes. 

The men continued to circle one another. 

Mateo smirked.  "Dead."

Cristiano flinched and visibly paled. "No–"

"She and I had an affair.  I used our secret to keep her in line.  I told her to keep her mouth shut or you'd kill her.  I made her believe you would never accept me.  I used her love for me, urged her to lie to you."  He taunted.  "To accuse another man.  It sent her over the edge ready to kill herself.  You sent her away hoping she would get better.  When your infatuation with your captive turned and you were now the one blinded by love, I made my escape, freed her from the prison you sent her to and ended her sorry existence."  He shrugs.  "She was never part of my plans but a pawn and only a simple causality that needed dispensing of."

Jasmine glanced at Cristiano, open-mouthed.  He was reeling from the onslaught of information, staggering.  He let out a wordless bellow of fury and hit him alongside the head with his fist. 

"I trusted you with her! You couldn't leave one innocent young girl alone!"

Mateo dodged his punches, leaping effortlessly to the side and coming into closer range to get to Jasmine. 

Remorseless, Cristiano's only reaction was to press him farther back across the wall and away from Jasmine.  Their fight raged around the living room.  Every time Mateo tried to rush forward, Cristiano was right there to stop him. 

Jasmine watched helplessly as they relentlessly fought one another.  They tore each other apart with the ferocity of savage animals.  Her ears rang with the noise as it hammered into her head.  Cristiano slams Mateo against the wall.  The wall shuddered and shook as he slammed him with enough force to cause a crack. 

It momentarily knocks Mateo out of his rage but not long enough as he pulls out a knife from his boot and lunges at Cristiano.  His blade flashed, stabbing at him.  Cristiano ducked back, grasping his right wrist and kicked him in the ribs. 

She flinched every time their blow connected.

After four or five blows, Mateo's face was half covered in blood.

Just when she thought Cristiano was winning the fight she saw the blood seeping from the wound at his shoulder.

The blade had sliced his shoulder and the small stain of blood was growing as the fight continued.  She was sure he couldn't feel the cut, full of adrenaline.  But she could clearly see the injury was causing him to lose the battle even if he was not aware. 

She quickly scrambled to her feet until another round of contractions hit her unaware.   It was so intense it knocked her off balance and she landed sideways on the sofa.  She clutched desperately at the cushions, grinding her teeth.  Her groan of pain escaped passed her lips and she cried at the intensity of the pain. 

It felt like a knife was sawing through her body. 

She couldn't keep it in any longer and screamed.  It was agonizing and tortured filled.  Tears seeped from the sides of her eyes as she gasped for air, gripping her shirt tightly.  She felt like she was going to die from the labour pains. 

"Yasmina!"

It was Cristiano.  His tone was full of worry and just beneath the surface she heard a note of agony.  

Panic quickly filled her, overriding her pain.

The last thing he needed was a distraction and she may have very well cost him his life. 

__________________________________________

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