Fierce King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (L.A. Ruthless Series Book 1)

Alejandro had left after his mom’s visit and had stayed the night at the hotel, which wasn’t unusual for him. He’d been true to his word about sending me some candidates though and I’d already interviewed four of his security personnel.

Well, I say interviewed, but it was more like me asking them completely random questions and them giving me monosyllabic answers while looking very uncomfortable. They were all very Hank-like, and I wondered if Alejandro employed anyone apart from Magda and Jacob, with any actual personality.

I checked my watch as I waited for the final candidate. It was almost 11am and I’d already spent my entire morning interviewing. I was due to meet the charity ladies for lunch at one and I needed to choose my outfit. I wanted to impress them, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard either.

I hoped that some of these women might become my friends and make my time here in L.A more bearable – not to mention doing something useful for charity too, which would give me some purpose even if I didn’t make any friends.

I looked up as the fifth candidate walked into the room and my breath caught in my throat. He was much younger than the previous interviewees by a good twenty years, and I guessed was closer to my age. He had the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen and the cutest dimples beneath his stubble, which were obvious because he was smiling as he walked in.

And that was what set him apart the most – he actually looked like he wanted to be there.

‘Hi,’ I stuttered.

‘Buenos días, Mrs Montoya,’ he said as he extended his hand in greeting.

I stood and shook it, noting how huge his hands and forearms were. He wore a suit, like all of Alejandro’s security did, but his muscles looked like they were about to burst out of it.

‘Please call me Alana,’ I said as I took a seat, fixing my skirt as I sat down. ‘You must be Hugo?’

‘Yep, that’s me, ma’am,’ he replied as he took a seat opposite me.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the formality.

‘Sorry,’ he laughed too. ‘Hard to shake the ma’am, it’s been drilled into me.’

‘You were in the forces?’

‘Yes, ma’am, I mean, Alana,’ he quickly corrected himself. ‘Navy SEAL for ten years.’

I smiled at him. ‘My grandpa served in the Marine Corps.’

‘He did?’

‘Yep. For almost thirty years. I used to love to listen to his stories. He was my hero.’

Hugo nodded. ‘Fourth generation of service for me.’

‘Why did you leave’ I asked him.

He blushed and I wondered if I’d overstepped. ‘Sorry, that’s too personal.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ he said as he leaned back in his chair. ‘On my last tour over in Afghanistan, I took a bullet to the shoulder. I was a sniper, and my aim was never the same after that. I was medically discharged and I got into private security instead.’

‘That must have been tough?’

‘Well, we’re kind of trained to handle tough.’

‘Did my husband force you to come here and apply for this babysitting job or were you given a choice?’ I asked with a flash of my eyebrows.

He laughed out loud at that. ‘The Boss told me to come here this morning and I do as I’m told. He definitely didn’t sell it as a babysitting job though.’

‘Oh? What did he tell you it was.’

Hugo narrowed his eyes at me. ‘He told me I was being given the opportunity to be his wife’s personal bodyguard. This is most definitely a promotion for me and the other four men who were in here before me, Alana. I don’t like to toot my own horn, but he chose his best men for this. This is most definitely no babysitting job, ma’am.’

I felt my skin flush pink. ‘I didn’t mean to belittle what you do,’ I stammered.

‘I know,’ he said as he smiled again. ‘But don’t underestimate your importance to the boss, is all I’m trying to say.’

I nodded. ‘What happens now then? Do you start straight away?’

‘I got the job?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ I smiled.

‘Then yes, orders were to start immediately.’

‘Good. I have a lunch at one. Is that okay?’

‘Of course. Wherever you need to go, I’ll take you. That’s the deal.’

‘So, how does this work. Do you work seven days a week?’

‘I usually have Wednesdays and every other Sunday off. I’ll be needing your schedule, but I’m also on standby whenever you need to leave the house, without Mr. Montoya obviously.’

‘So, who guards me when I’m with him?’ I asked.

He looked at me as though I had just asked him the stupidest question in the world. ‘He does, of course.’

Hugo held open the door of his car and I climbed into the back seat. I’d have preferred to sit in the front, but I didn’t know what the correct protocol was for having my own personal bodyguard.

On the one occasion I’d left the house since my fateful wedding day, I’d been in the back of a limousine with Hank and another man with a gun.

Hugo climbed into the front seat and started the engine. ‘Safer in the back,’ he said as though reading my mind. ‘The driver is always the first target. Although most of Mr. Montoya’s cars are bulletproof, so we’re pretty safe,’ he said with a flash of his eyebrows in the rear-view mirror.

‘I’m just happy to be out,’ I said as I leaned back against the seat and smiled.

A short time later, Hugo pulled his car up outside the exclusive yacht club. He got out first, checking up and down the street before he opened the door and reached for my hand. He remained hyper-vigilant as he escorted me through the club and to the room where the ladies of the charity committee were meeting.

‘I’ll have to come inside, but I’ll wait near the exit,’ he said quietly in my ear. ‘It will be like I’m not even here.’

I nodded and took a deep breath as I walked into the room with Hugo close behind me. Everyone in the room looked up as I entered, and I smiled widely.

‘Alana, dear,’ a blonde-haired woman, who I guessed was in her mid-forties, shouted and then she walked over to me and gave me two dramatic air kisses. ‘Ladies,’ she said as she took hold of my arm by the elbow and turned to address the room. ‘This is Alana Montoya, and she has come to join us in our work for good causes. I know you’ll all give her a warm welcome.’

The dozen women in the room all smiled as they looked me up and down, some of them barely able to hide their disdain. I noted the bottles of expensive champagne on the table. Perhaps this was a celebration?

‘I hope I’m not intruding,’ I said quietly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as I stood there in my simple wrap dress. There were enough designer labels in this room to feed a small community for a year.

‘No, we meet here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday,’ the blonde woman replied as she ushered me towards the table. ‘My name is Amelia, by the way. My husband is one of Alejandro’s investors.’

‘A pleasure to meet you,’ I replied as I took a seat.

Amelia sat on my right, but I didn’t have a chance to speak to her any further because the woman on my left grabbed my hand and started examining my ring finger.

‘I’d have expected a bigger rock than that from the King of L.A,’ she snorted.

I pulled my hand away. ‘It was my grandmother’s ring,’ I replied defensively.

‘Your grandmother’s?’ one of the other women squealed. ‘How quaint,’ she said and a few of them broke into laughter.

‘Take no notice of them, dear,’ Amelia said as she patted my thigh. ‘They’ve had far too much to drink already.’

I smiled at her and then listened as she gave me a rundown of everyone at the table. It seemed that I was fortunate enough to be in the company of the L.A elite. These women were the wives of the wealthiest men in L.A. If you wanted into a party, onto a list, or to be someone of any note at all, then this was the crowd you needed to win over. At least that was the way Amelia sold them to me.

I wasn’t so sure she was right. I listened to their conversation and didn’t think I had anything in common with any of them. When there was a gap in the chatter, I decided to ask about their charity work. At least that would be something I felt like we could talk about.

‘Oh, we’ve already chosen our charity for this year. We’ll be hosting a fundraising event in the fall, so we’ll start planning in the next few weeks. There’s no rush,’ Amelia replied.

‘What’s the charity?’ I asked.

‘The school needs a new wing. Their sports hall isn’t fit for purpose now that they have so many new pupils.’

‘Oh, okay. Which school is that?’ I asked.

‘Montlake Academy,’ Amelia replied dismissively, as though my questions were starting to bother her.

‘Oh,’ I said as I leaned back in my chair. Montlake Academy was the private school nearby. I bet that most of their children went to that same school. Their school fees were astronomical. That was the charity project they’d chosen?

I looked around the room and realized that I didn’t belong here at all. Suddenly, I felt that sense of aching loneliness again. Was there any place in L.A where I might fit in?

I checked my watch and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, ladies, but I have another appointment to get to. It was lovely to meet you all,’ I said, forcing a smile.

‘Oh, no. Really?’ Amelia said. ‘You’ll come back, next week though, won’t you? It’s quite the coup having the new Mrs. Montoya in our midst. The donors will love it,’ she giggled.

‘I’d love to, if my schedule allows,’ I lied. ‘Bye ladies.’

I walked towards the door and Hugo stepped out of the shadows and was at my side before I reached it. He held it open for me.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

I waited until we were outside before I answered. ‘Yes. That just wasn’t what I was expecting, that’s all. I was hoping to do something meaningful, but I don’t think I’m going to find it in here.’

Hugo nodded absent-mindedly as he checked up and down the street before leading me to the car and opening the door.

I climbed inside, leaning my head against the headrest with a sigh.

I didn’t realize Hugo was already in the car when he spoke. ‘Where to now?’ he asked.

I opened my eyes and suddenly remembered the article I’d read about the women’s shelter downtown that was about to lose its funding. That seemed like a place where I might be needed and somewhere my fundraising skills might be useful.

‘Do you know the shelter downtown on the corner of Maple and Fifth?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but I’m not sure Mr. Montoya would want you going there.’

‘But you work for me now, yes? And that’s where I’d like to go. And what Mr. Montoya doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.’

‘You want me to lie to the boss?’ he asked with a flash of his eyebrows.

‘No. If he asks you, tell him the truth. But he probably won’t ask. That’s all I’m saying.’

‘Hmm,’ Hugo said with a laugh as he pulled the car away from the sidewalk. ‘We’ll see.’

It was almost six pm by the time I got home. The women’s and children’s shelter had been exactly what I was looking for and they were in desperate need of a new fundraising coordinator.

I’d spent most of the afternoon with a lady by the name of Kristen O’Malley, who had set up the shelter eighteen years earlier after she had fled her own abusive marriage and found support from a similar organization. Once she’d been back on her feet, she had wanted to give something back and the Maggie O’Malley Center had been born. Kristen had named it after her mother, who had passed while the center was being established.

It seemed that Kristen worked tirelessly to help all of the women and children who came through their doors, but it was also apparent that she was desperately short staffed and that the center’s already limited funds were dwindling. Not to mention, the lease on their building was up for renewal and the landlord didn’t seem to be a very charitable person at all.

When I’d offered to help fundraise, she had accepted gratefully, but it was only when I told her my name that she really paid attention.

She didn’t recognize me as Alana Montoya though, but as Alana Carmichael, and that gave me a sense of pride like I couldn’t describe.

For a moment, I felt like me again. I’d promised I’d do everything I could to help and she had given me the warmest hug I’d had in months.

I smiled to myself as I walked through the house to the kitchen to see Magda busy near the stove.

‘Oh, Mrs. Montoya, I’m so glad you’re home,’ she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

‘Magda, would you please call me Alana?’ I asked her for what I thought must be the hundredth time since I’d first walked into this house. ‘Mrs. Montoya makes me feel really old.’

She gave a slight grimace but then she nodded. ‘Alana,’ she said with a half-smile.

‘Thank you.’

She cleared her throat. ‘Mr. Montoya will be home for dinner –’

‘Really?’ I interrupted her. He hadn’t been home for dinner in the almost three weeks we’d been married so far.

‘Yes. So, what shall I cook? What is your favorite dish?’

I shrugged. ‘Whatever he likes is fine by me.’

She smiled at me. ‘But he has instructed me to cook your favorite meal. So?’

‘I don’t think he’ll appreciate my tastes,’ I replied with a laugh.

She held out her hands. ‘That may be, but those are my orders.’

I chewed on my bottom lip. I supposed I could pretend that my favorite dish was something exotic and cultured. Or, I could just go with the truth? ‘Okay then. My favorite meal is a bacon cheeseburger and fries.’

Madga blinked at me and I wondered if she had ever made that meal before in her life.

‘I can cook if you’d like though? I like cooking,’ I said with a shrug.

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘There is no dish that Magda Hernandez cannot cook,’ she said as she patted her chest with pride. ‘You need to go and clean up for dinner. It will be ready at eight.’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Now go. Out of my kitchen,’ she said, swatting her hand in my direction.

I didn’t know what came over me, but perhaps it was my happiness at finally feeling like I might have something to do in this city. Or perhaps Kristen’s earlier embrace had melted the wall of ice I’d built around myself these past few weeks, but I ran over to Magda instead and gave her a huge hug.

She remained as stiff as a board and I wondered if I had crossed a line. Magda and I had become closer in these past three weeks. She was the only person I really spoke to and I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

But just as I was about to pull back, she placed her hand on my back and patted me gently.

‘Dulce niña,’ she said. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded nice and when I looked at her face she was smiling.