Stolen Dove: Stolen Hearts Series Blake, Carina (e reader books .txt) 📖

of my half brothers hate us and would love to take the spot they feel they deserved. Blood or not, if they overstep their bounds, I pop all those assholes.

“I’m glad we buried that fuck.” I’d gladly do it again. I haven’t regretted it and never will.

“Damn right. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Guadalupe.” Lupe’s our winery manager who lives and breathes wine. Our last manager bailed out shortly after the bombing, claiming it was too dangerous for him. I was glad to see him go. Weak men like that bail when shit gets real, and I don’t have time to deal with people like him. I let him go, but he’ll never work for my family again.

“Make sure everything is running smoothly. I’ll tell Mama you’ll be around later.” He constantly checks in on her because like me, he wants to keep her safe while giving her the independence she craves.

“Gracias.” We stand, and I pull my little brother in for a hug.

“Take care. Call me for anything,” I remind him. It’s not like I can do a lot from the States, but I want to know my mother’s okay.

“You know I will.” We walk out, and my guards go with me while my brother’s men follow him out. Fernando meets me in the garage with more information that we need for our trip.

“Are you ready?” I ask, tucking my keys in my pocket. The weather’s not bad today, but it’s fucking shit in the States.

“Yes. Your bags have been loaded, and the weather is finally clear for travel.” We were supposed to leave two days ago, but first we were hit with some torrential rain, and then they were slammed with threats of hurricanes and large swells. I have a short window before the next storm comes knocking on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States. It’s now or never.

“Please stop at my mother’s before we go to the airport,” I tell him, although he already knew I’d want to stop there before we leave.

“Of course, Victor.” I drop my head back on the headrest and relax. Having this conversation with my mother isn’t something I want. I hate having to leave her when she’s so sick. The fear of losing her is real for my brother and me. My phone buzzes with an email from my lawyer. The acquisition of a property in Calabria was successful. I plan to build another restaurant and brewery in that spot. Bringing a smile to my face, I inform Fernando of the news. “The spot in Calabria is ours.”

“Congrats, Victor. Maybe this deal with the Americans will be necessary.”

“It will save us a lot of time and money without having to go through customs.”

“And other suppliers. They’ve been known to bust up shipments ‘by accident’ to help their other connections.”

“You make a valid point.”

“Sir, we’re here.” I nod, glancing out the window before stepping out of the vehicle. That woman is going to be the death of me. I see her out on her swing, and she’s on her feet in a flash. I adjust my suit jacket to hide my gun and then walk to greet my mother.

“Mijo,” my mother says, throwing her arms out for a hug as I step up to her portico.

“What are you doing outside by yourself?” I grumble, hugging her tightly and lifting her off her feet. With a kiss on her cheek, I set her down. My mother is petite, maybe five feet tall, and just a waif of a woman now. She needs someone cooking for her.

She leans back in my arms and slaps my chest. “I have Vicente here. I’m fine. No one has come or gone up that road until you pulled up, so you must relax. You won’t need any enemies to take you down when you give yourself a stroke.”

I surrender and release her. “Fine. You know I don’t like you staying here all alone.”

“Don’t start. Come inside for some coffee and some food before you leave.” She pats my chest and takes my hand, dragging me along like a little boy into the house.

I stop just outside her front door. “Mama. Tell me you didn’t cook for me.”

“I’ll always cook for my baby.” She pinches my cheek and walks inside. Standing guard is Vicente. He’s one of my younger guards, but he’s been with the family for eight years.

“You don’t have to cook anymore. We have a cook waiting to make you anything you’d like. You should be resting and enjoying only the best life has to offer,” I say, watching her work by the stove stirring some eggs into a pan.

“I know you mean well, Victor. Pero estoy contenta.”

“It doesn’t change how I feel about it. You are all alone.”

“Well, when you bring me some babies to care for, then I won’t be alone.”

“If I ever give you grandbabies, you can move back into the house.”

“The day you do, I’ll consider it. That house has memories I wish to forget.”

I nod, knowing that she has a great point. Her scars run deeper than mine. I take a seat with a cup of coffee as she prepares a plate of breakfast for me. I’m grateful that I haven’t eaten yet today because I could never pass up her cooking. She flits around the kitchen cleaning up and then brings her coffee to the table and sits.

“You must be leaving soon, si?”

“Yes. I only intend on staying in New York for two days to settle business with a shipping company.” I blow on my papas con huevo before taking a bite. I can never resist her cooking.

“Take your time. Take a vacation, find a wife,” she presses. Breakfast always comes at a price. The same price, actually. A family. She wants me to find someone that makes me happy and start to build on it, but it’s not like she’s going to fall into my lap and I’m gonna trust her with my