Episode 2

UNDERWORLD LORDS TRILOGY

BOOK I: Lords of the Underworld: The King

BOOK II: Lords of the Underworld: The Prince of Sin

BOOK III: Lords of the Underworld: The Executioner

*WARNING* ⚠️

This book is about the mafia; it is the continuation of the first book, "Lords of the Underworld: The King."

It contains explicit scenes of violence, sex, inappropriate language, and sensitive themes. It is an intense, raw, and uncensored story, where danger and passion walk side by side.

If you like an intense romance, full of tension, desire, and chaos… then, welcome.

Read at your own risk.

Enjoy the read!

The San Sebastian heat was infernal that afternoon as I drove my Porsche like a demon down the road. The engine roared, fierce, as I headed towards Riviera Auto Group, formerly the Sanchez's, now the Martinez's.

I was the new owner of that shit. But of course, only on paper.

The company was just a well-kept façade for something much bigger. The real money came from what ran through the dark alleys of the city, what came out of hidden ports, from private jets that crossed borders without raising suspicion. Drugs. Power. Control.

Gabriel, my middle brother, and I had been in charge of this part of the business since we finished off those traitors. But at the top of the chain, there he was. Cristian Martinez. The Don. The boss. The man to whom we owed unquestionable loyalty. Our older brother.

I parked in front of the company and tossed the keys to the valet without even looking at him. My cell phone vibrated in my suit jacket pocket, and by the ringtone, I already knew it was my brother.

Damn.

I grabbed the phone and answered, huffing before I even spoke.

“Hermano, how are the preparations going?” Cristian’s voice sounded firm on the other end of the line.

“The preparations?” I let out a dry laugh. “This damn wedding, is that it?”

“Obviously, carajo (fuck). The wedding doesn’t organize itself.”

“I left nuestro padre (our father) taking care of that, cabron (bastard). I don’t have patience for this shit. I’m a criminal, not a wedding planner.”

Cristian let out a long sigh, one of those that meant he was pondering whether to tell me to go to hell or to keep his patience.

“And your fiancee? Have you gone to see her yet?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Cristian, we’ve already talked about this. I’m not going after that girl. I only want to see her on the wedding day. Don’t pressure me, carajo.”

“Mierda, Ramon!” he growled. “It’s been two years since you’ve seen that girl. How are you going to recognize her, joder (damn it)?”

“I don’t need to recognize her. She’ll be the only one wearing a white dress at the altar, won’t she?” I said ironically.

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Escucha (listen), Ramon... You promised me you’d do this right. That you wouldn’t screw everything up.”

I took a deep breath, holding back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Cristian was my brother, I revered him, but this damn wedding? That was another story.

“Cristian, don’t fuck with me. You got me into this mess, now let me deal with it my way.”

He let out another sigh and changed the subject.

“And the shipment to France?”

“Gabriel is taking care of it. The operation is running perfectly.”

“Good. I don’t want any problems with the French.”

“Neither do I.”

We ended the call, and I threw myself into the leather chair in my office, letting out a heavy sigh.

In ten days, I would be a married man.

Me. Married.

The biggest absurdity I’ve ever heard in my life.

I liked freedom, fucking as many women as I wanted, living without ties. And now? Now I would be tied to a weird, traumatized girl who didn’t want this wedding any more than I did.

The last time I saw Luna Sanchez, she was sixteen. Small, fragile, irrelevant. Devoid of beauty.

Cristian, that son of a bitch, didn’t feel an ounce of pity for me.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

Camila, my personal assistant, came in.

My gaze slid over her body. Tight skirt, clingy blouse, eyes that screamed desire. I’d fucked her before, and she wanted it again.

“Ramon,” she murmured, approaching, biting her lip.

Ah, I knew where this was going.

I was just about to pull her on top of me when the damn door opened again.

Simon, my good friend, stopped at the entrance. His gaze went straight to Camila’s ass as she hurried out of the office, frustrated.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Bad time to come in, cabron.”

He laughed, closing the door behind him.

“My timing has always been shit. But I came for a good reason.”

I crossed my arms, waiting.

“Masquerade ball. Tomorrow night. My family is organizing it. I want you to go.”

“A party, huh?” I tilted my head, considering. “I have a busy life now, responsibilities, a fucked-up company to manage. I don’t have as much time as before.”

But the idea of a night of fun before they hanged me with this forced marriage…

“Don’t give me that, Ramon. You need a bachelor party.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Bachelor party?” I let out a bitter laugh. “This wedding will just be an agreement, joder. I’ll continue to be a free man… you understand me.”

Simon arched an eyebrow.

“You can think that. But what about her?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Are you talking about my fiancee? To hell with her, she’s irrelevant.”

He just smiled.

“Then come to the ball. It’ll be a great opportunity for your last night of fun.”

I leaned forward.

“If you guarantee some hot women, then you can be sure I’ll be there.”

Simon guffawed.

“Consider it done.”

He left the office, and I let out a sigh, running my hands over my face.

Whatever was to come…

Let it come.

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