It’s around 3:00 p.m., and Patanza is helping me with decorations. They aren’t bad, but not the best either. Purple and blue balloons were brought in—Mrs. Molina’s favorite colors. The dishes are purple and blue as well. I fill each balloon up with the helium tank provided.

After taking my small escape and sitting on the terrace with a few glasses of white wine and one of those Spanish romances, I feel much better. I didn’t mean to lash out at Patanza, which is why I have her helping me now. I want her to know that everything is okay between us, and that I don’t blame her for doing her job.

The butlers stand only a few feet away, setting up small stations for finger foods and desserts. I can feel them looking at me, as if I shouldn’t be doing any work at all. They look at the door often, like they expect Draco to come storming in at any second to grill them for letting me help.

“How long are they going to be like this?” I ask.

“It’s their job to do this, not ours,” Patanza grumbles, tying the end of one of the blue balloons. I can tell she’s annoyed doing this. She didn’t want to help, but had to because . . . well, because I asked. “They aren’t used to the commanding people around here helping out with stuff like this. The guards, you, Mrs. Molina, Jefe—no one. They and the maids usually handle everything. It’s their job to.”

“I don’t mind helping. I can’t go into town so I might as well do something to pass the time.” I finish filling the balloon up and then pinch the end, handing it to her. She ties it, rolling her eyes at my last statement.

“Who says you can’t go into town?” a familiar voice calls behind me.

I twist in my seat at the dining table and look sideways, spotting Mrs. Molina coming in. And wow . . . she looks amazing.

Her streaked gray hair is pinned up, not a stray piece dangles. Her dress is like a gown for a goddess, yellow and billowy with a gold belt at the waist. Her leather sandals have jewels on the gold straps. A smile sweeps across her lips as she comes closer.

“Wow, Mrs. Molina,” I release a hoarse laugh. “You look great!”

She bows her head playfully.

I look over at Patanza and her eyebrows are furrowed as she sweeps her gaze over Mrs. Molina as well. She’s mildly shocked, like she’s never seen her dressed this way before, not even for her birthday.

“Why are you so dressed up?” Patanza asks, eyebrows bunching together.

“Because I want to be,” Mrs. Molina retorts. “And because it is my 60^th birthday. That’s a huge milestone in the Molina family. Most don’t get to live to see that age, you know.”

“I had no idea you were turning sixty, Mrs. Molina. It makes your beauty even more impressive.” I step around my chair.

A bigger smile graces her lips. Ever since that conversation I heard between her and Draco, I’ve grown to like her. She doesn’t stare like a hawk. She doesn’t treat me like some lost child anymore. She treats me like she’s known me my whole life, having normal conversations with me during breakfast, buying me clothes whenever she goes into town. The clothes are really not needed, seeing as I have way too many to wear as it is, but I don’t complain. It’s appreciated, and I’m glad to know she actually thinks of me whenever she happens to go out.

“Gracias, cariño.” Sweetie. She touches my cheek with a gentle palm. “But who says you can’t go to town?” she asks again.

“Jefe says so,” Patanza butts in, eyes rolling.

Mrs. Molina’s arms fold. “What does he think? That she will run away?”

Patanza cocks a stern brow, looking from her to me. She doesn’t say anything but her know-it-all glare shouts it all.

“I am not going to run away,” I groan, running my fingers through my hair.

“I’m sure you won’t. My son can be so overprotective sometimes. He has to give you freedom—let you breathe! You can’t stay cooped up in here or you’ll go crazy. Trust me, I know.”

“Exactly!”

“You should come out with me today,” Mrs. Molina insists.

“Did Jefe say you could take her off the property?” Patanza asks in Spanish, but it is more of a threat than anything.

“No, and he doesn’t have to because I can leave whenever I please, Patanza. My son cannot control me like he does with his guards and her.” She gestures at me. “It’s my birthday and she’s coming with me. There is a new brand of vino rojo at the market that I want to try. I told them to save me a bottle just for today’s special occasion. I want to make this a great night and my son has agreed that I can get whatever I want. All I have to do is call.”

Patanza drops her balloon, folding her arms. “I can’t let you take her.”

I frown at her just as Mrs. Molina does. “Should we call him then?” she challenges in her native tongue. She draws out the clutch from beneath her arm and pulls out a burn phone. When she flips it open, Patanza exhales.

“Whatever,” Patanza mumbles. “Call him.”

“No need.” Mrs. Molina looks over at me. “Amor, go change clothes. I will be waiting by the door when you’re ready. I’ve already asked Guillermo and Diego to take me. As long as we have guards with us—his eyes and ears—it will be fine.”

I beam, stepping sideways. “Are you sure?” I gasp.

She nods. “Go—but hurry. I have a few stops I want to make while I’m there.”

I do my best not to squeal but I can feel it in my throat, begging to be unleashed. I look at Patanza and she’s shaking her head, straightening her back with her hand on the handle of her gun.

“He’s going to flip shit,” she grumbles in Spanish.

But I ignore her and rush around Mrs. Molina, zooming up the stairs and into Draco’s bedroom. I change into a gray maxi dress and sandals, making my way into the bathroom to brush my hair and then toss it up into a loose bun. There are sunglasses in the closet and I grab a pair.

I noticed Draco keeps money in the top drawer of his dresser. There are five thick wads of them. I slide off the rubber band from one of them and unroll it, taking a few bills and stuffing them in the black leather satchel Mrs. Molina bought me. He never said I could use it, but also never said that I couldn’t.

I guess there’s really no point in my using it. He doesn’t expect me to go anywhere to spend it on anything. But with his guards with us, I don’t see the harm in going out for just a few hours.

I’m out of the bedroom in no time. As I waltz down the stairs, I spot Mrs. Molina standing at the front door with a tote bag now strapped on her shoulder.

“You ready?” She smiles broadly.

I nod when I meet up to her. “Yes.”

“Good. Come.” She grips the doorknob and opens it. Guillermo and Diego are already posted at the car, waiting for us. When I step out, the sun beams down on me, kissing my skin. I slide my sunglasses on as we walk to the black Mercedes. Guillermo opens my door as Diego opens hers and we slide into the back seat at the same time.

When the doors are shut behind us, I look over at her. “Are you sure he’ll be okay with this?”

She gives a small smirk that almost resembles his. “No.”

My eyes stretch.

“But he can’t stop us right now, can he?” she adds. “I’ve learned that with Draco you have to take what you want. Waiting around for him to give you permission gets you nowhere. If he doesn’t see you make a stand for yourself, he won’t take you seriously. He used to try and keep me trapped in there. Let’s just say we had one conversation over dinner one night, and he hasn’t tried to hold me back since, though he does make sure I take my precautions.”

Guillermo climbs behind the wheel as Diego gets into the passenger seat.

“Plus, I’m sure those two clowns up there have already told him.” She looks between them.

Diego huffs a laugh, but his mouth doesn’t move. Guillermo looks through the rearview mirror and gives a slight eye roll. Well, if they are still willing to take us, I’m guessing Draco is fine with it.

Good.

No more leashes.

I deserve freedom, and I’ve wanted to get out of the house for weeks now.

The ride is refreshing. Even though the air conditioner is on, I roll my window down and stare out at the road and tall palm trees. The palm trees transform into shrubs and the road turns into a dirt one as the car veers left and continues up a winding road.

I look back, watching the mansion grow farther and farther away. It’s a beautiful home, but it feels so much better being outside of it than in it.

I’m surprised he isn’t raising hell about this. Maybe he’s beginning to trust me. Maybe he knows where my best instincts lie.

We take a long dirt road past small, various colored stucco homes. Children are playing outside but when they see our car, they stop kicking their fútbols and stare. Some wave. Some don’t. They must know whom this car belongs to—or they suspect it’s trouble.

It takes twenty minutes to get to the city of Lantía. It’s a small city indeed. There are corner markets and Mexican food stands everywhere. The food smells amazing, and when I inhale, I feel a pang, remembering the ride on my wedding day.

Smelling all the food—the tortas and cakes—and then having it all drowned out with the scent of hot copper and being blinded by a black hood.

A chill shoots up my spine just thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Molina asks, and I shoot my gaze over to hers.

“Yeah.” I nod when she places a kind hand on top of mine. “I’m great. Just glad to be out of the house.”

She scans me, and I can see the worry in her eyes, but I force a small smile, then turn to look out of the window again.

The car finally slows down and I look ahead, spotting tall cream-colored and red tents. The area is busy, with men, women, and children milling around. It’s a market. A large one.

Guillermo parks the car and then kills the engine, he and Diego hopping out immediately. They don’t come for our doors right away, and Mrs. Molina sighs, peering out.

“Ay, ay, ay,” she groans.

“What are they doing?” I ask, watching them walk through the area, hands on the gun handles in their holders.

“Doing a small sweep. Making sure no one looks suspicious. Same routine every time we go somewhere.” They return several minutes later and finally come for our doors. Diego opens mine, and I step out onto the red dirt, the heat wrapping me up. The air is much thicker, and it’s way hotter out here than it was at the mansion; I guess that’s because we were closer to the water there.

Gravel crunches from somewhere. Before I can pick my head up, I see a pair of leather shoes step up to me and without meeting his eyes, I already know who the hell it is.

I carry my gaze up his black dress pants, the cream-colored shirt tucked in to the trim waist, sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong forearms.

His shirt is open at the top, revealing the crucifix again, the large Adam’s apple, and of course, the wicked smirk on his lips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I gripe when Diego shuts the door behind me.

Draco stands tall before me, shoulders broad. A gun is in a holder on his belt, an impressive silver watch on his wrist. “What? You thought I’d approve of you being out here without me?” When he quirks that cheek, I want to punch him right in the gut.

“I only wanted to explore—get a little freedom,” I tell him. “It’s already enough having your guards tail my ass all day.”

“You have freedom. I’m just tagging along and they are keeping you safe.” He steps toward me, clasping my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “My woman doesn’t walk these streets alone. It’s not safe.”

“I was wondering why they were being so lenient on letting us out,” Mrs. Molina calls from the front of the car, placing a pair of sunglasses on. “I was only bluffing with Patanza.”

“She is not happy, Mamá. You shouldn’t mess with her emotions that way.”

“Oh, please.” She waves a hand. “She should be glad she has the break. Poor girl works too damn hard. She deserves to be out here, too.”

He exhales and then looks down at me when Mrs. Molina walks to the nearest fruit stand. “What do you want from here?”

“I want to buy your mom a gift,” I tell him, turning to walk. He catches up to me without much stride. “Why didn’t you tell me it was her birthday?”

“Didn’t think it mattered. She normally isn’t this cheerful on this day.” He gives her a sideways glance as she picks up a papaya, grinning at the woman behind the stand. “But I won’t ruin it. She wanted you to come out with her, so I’ll give her whatever she wants today as long as it keeps the smile on her face.”

“Hmm.”

As we walk, I notice people are quick to step out of our way. Not one person stands in our path. They literally make a gap for us to walk through. Some of the women smile so hard at him I think their faces will break.

Some people shush others, while some scatter to different stands to get away from the walkway.

“Jefe! Jefe!” a child shouts, rushing our way with a grin. His mother panics, trying to cling to his arm, but Draco holds up a hand at her, giving a slight reassuring smile. She eases up almost instantly, and the child, a young boy with matted hair and shorts that seem years too small for him, meets up to us, breathing hard and grinning all at once.

“I made this for you,” he says in Spanish, tossing his long hair back. He opens his palm and hands Draco a carved flower made of wood. “I carry it around every day. I was hoping one day you would show up again.”

Draco takes it, studying it intently. “Do you?”

“Yes! I remember you bringing my mom flowers one day when she was sad. She still has them. She made a garden with the seeds. They make her room smell good.”

Draco picks his gaze up, looking at the older woman. She blushes. He huffs a laugh.

He leans forward and murmurs, “You did well on it, Mateo. I’ll put this in my art room back at home. Keep this up, and it will make you a lot of money later on.” He holds the flower up between his fingers.

Mateo bobs his head and steps back.

“Hold on.” Draco grips his shoulder and I can see the worry in his mother’s eyes. She steps forward, watching intently. Draco stands tall, pulling out a clip of money from his front pocket. He takes out six bills and then stuffs them in the boy’s hand. “Tell your mother to make something good for dinner and to buy both of you some new clothes and shoes.”

Mateo nods and Draco cocks his head, telling him to go on.

“Ma! Look!” the boy yells, running back to her.

The woman’s eyes glisten when the boy stuffs the money in her hands. She brings her fingertips up to her lips, whispering her thanks over and over again.

Draco walks to her, capping her shoulder and saying something. She nods her head appreciatively, saying “Gracias” even louder now. She gives him a tight hug and then pulls away with haste.

I’m shocked that he allows it, but that’s not what really catches me by surprise. It’s how quiet the market has become, like the spotlight is on him. Everyone is watching. Staring. Not only at him, but at me too.

“Bonita,” I hear a woman whisper as she stares at me. Pretty.

“Muy maravilloso,” another says. Very gorgeous.

“Quien es ella?” Who is she?

I see a set of shoulders shrug in the crowd near the voice. Draco returns, hooking his arm through mine and leading the way through the market.

“You gave him a lot of money,” I note. “How much was it?”

“Six hundred American dollars.”

“You carry American money?”

“It’s worth more here. Why not?” He has his head up, scanning the area himself, eyes peeled.

Makes sense.

“That was nice,” I finally say when he brings me under a tent to get in the shade.

“These are my people, Gianna. It’s my home. They respect me and I respect them. Some may be afraid of me, but most love me. I do for my people.”

“What kind of flowers did you give that boy’s mother? Chocolate cosmos?”

His smile is the answer.

“Why?”

“She used to be my tutor before my father died. She’s a single mother, but she had her mother to help out with her son. Her mother grew sick, passed away a few months ago. She used up all of the money she had saved for the funeral and I heard about it. She’d always loved the flowers. She was the one who introduced me to them in my books—said she wanted to have a garden of her own one day.”

A smile touches the edges of my lips.

“I gave her a bouquet to send my condolences and took care of her home. It’s paid for. She has no more worries. That woman was more than patient with me, kind of like your mother was with my violin lessons. They knew I hated learning, but stuck it out with me anyway.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, I can see that,” I tease.

He looks around the market, watching the patrons return to their shopping. “We can’t be out here for long, Gianna. Someone will call the police soon to report me, try and get the reward. I’m taking this risk for you, but I normally don’t do public places like this. Not often.”

“I understand. I just want to get her something—doesn’t have to be big. I want to show my appreciation.”

“Appreciation for what?”

“For . . . all she’s done and for always having my back when it comes to you, her own son.” I cock a brow at him and he raises his chin, glaring like he knows that I know something I shouldn’t. He doesn’t speak on it, though. Instead, he wraps an arm around my shoulders and twists me around, leading the way through the outdoor market.

“She likes books and jewelry. She collects music boxes, shells, and she loves drinking red wines and knitting. She’s not too hard to please. There is a place down here where you’ll most likely find something.” He doesn’t look at me and I’m curious as to why.

I don’t speak on it, though. I walk with him and enjoy my freedom—this place. It smells good here. I can smell meat grilling, tortillas browning. It all smells so delicious and fresh.

“Thank you, Draco,” I finally murmur, and he drops his eyes, focusing on me.

“Don’t thank me for freedom, Gianna. Whatever you desire is yours.”

My mouth twitches.

“Just don’t play me for a fool,” he adds on and I whip my head up, locking on his face. One of his eyebrows slides up, his face solemn.

“What happens if I do? You’ll kill me?” I ask softly.

“I could never kill you.”

“Why not?”

“I owe your father my life. Killing his only daughter would never settle with me and I wouldn’t take pride in it.”

“And also because he promised me to you.” I chew on my bottom lip, stepping over large rocks. “What all did he tell you to do with me?”

“To protect you. To make you trust me. To never shed any of your blood—well, not too much of it anyway.” He smirks at that. I roll my eyes.

“And you expect me to do the same for you?”

When I ask that, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips again. “Same goes for you, mi reina. For this to last, it must work both ways, no?”

We meet up to a stand with trinkets, books, and other small things. It’s tucked away in a corner, shelves built into the building beside it. It’s a much bigger space than the other stands have, and there is so much to choose from that giddiness courses through me when we step beneath the tent.

“Have your way, niñita. I’ll be waiting out here. Let me know when you finish so I can pay. I have a phone call to make.” He releases me, and I step forward, smiling a little. “Go,” he insists. “Before I change my mind.”

I playfully roll my eyes. He hates revealing that tender side, but I won’t dwell on it. If it’s what makes him feel good—keeping it only between us—then so be it. I won’t push or budge. Because I like him like this. On my side.

I like this mutual respect.

I like that he is willing to do whatever it takes to make the ones he cares for happy. He may not say that he cares, but I’m a firm believer in showing rather than telling. And he’s shown it a lot so far.

Draco Molina is a lot deeper than I thought. He isn’t the monster I assumed he was. He’s hardcore, tough, brutal—but it’s all for a reason.

And I’m realizing that perhaps he has every right to be the way he is.

He has every right to make everyone call him the boss. He owns who he is and he doesn’t back down. Everyone looks up to him. Men want to be him, the most wanted, most powerful man in the world, whether the rest of the world knows it or not. He defies all laws but his own.

The man I thought was a monster in the dark is everything I never knew I craved. I should get to know him. I should . . . try with him, at least, because he’s trying with me. Daddy saw something in him, and I think I’m seeing it now too.

He can protect me. He can help me. He is slowly but surely trying to heal me and repair the damage he caused. His effort isn’t invisible to me. I notice it, and like a fool, I know I’m taking it for granted.

Because despite all he’s doing, it’s still not enough.