I decided to sleep in the library instead. I didn’t know if Draco would come to bed soon, and, frankly, I didn’t want to sleep with him. Don’t get me wrong, I feel bad—guilty, because I did wrong, and he left Henry alive, for now at least.

I don’t know why, or what he was planning on doing, but I can’t face him. Not until I’ve processed my thoughts, so I write until nearly four in the morning, letting the words of remorse flow.

I can’t stop. Not for a while. When I do, I read over it a hundred times and then I fold it up, taking it with me to the daybed. I don’t want him—or anyone else—to walk in and see it.

Before I can get comfortable, there is a knock on the library door . . . at four in the morning. I frown as I stare at the door. Draco would walk right in. So would Patanza. Who the hell is it?

I cautiously walk down the steps and to the door. When I crack it open, Thiago is standing on the other side, looking at me beneath his eyebrows. I frown when he flashes a small smile.

“What the hell do you want?” I mutter.

“Thought you might need some company.”

“And why would I need that? From you, of all people?” I respond with snide.

He smirks. “Okay. I lied. I actually came to get a book. I left it here a long time ago. Has some important stuff in it that I need.”

“At four in the morning?”

He shrugs carelessly. “My days never end.”

I look over his shoulder, down the empty corridor, and then I sigh, stepping back. “If you try anything, I’ll kill you myself,” I tell him when he walks past me.

He scoffs lightly, treading past and walking right up the stairs.

I watch him carefully before walking up the staircase myself. He’s scanning one of the shelves by the wall, eyes narrowed, when I make it to the top. I walk to the day bed, reaching beneath my pillow for Draco’s pocketknife. I took it from his weapon wall several days ago . . . just in case. He’s been too preoccupied to notice its missing.

I keep my hand beneath the pillow, my fingers curling around the wide handle. I pretend to relax as Thiago finally comes across a leather-bound book.

“Ah, aquí esta,” he sighs. Here it is.

He flips through the pages and, assuming whatever he’s looking for is there for him, he nods graciously. “What is it?” I ask, wary.

“Coordinates.”

“For what?”

“Where I bury some of my American cash.” He comes closer and I grip the knife even tighter. Sensing my tension, he releases a low laugh, leaning his lower back against the guardrail. He’s only about six steps away.

“Why do you need it?” I narrow my eyes.

“It’s my money.”

“Why would you keep the coordinates in a book in this library? Let alone, let me see which book you keep it in?” I study the front of the book, the word Biología written across the front in a dusty silver.

He laughs. “What the hell are you going to do with the money? I’m sure Draco will give you enough of it if you need it.”

I cock a brow. “You never know when I just might need some of my own to run away with.”

He looks me over. I’m still wearing Draco’s button-down shirt. It reaches the middle of my thighs. I look down, noticing the red marks on my ankles. I try and cross them, but they’re still visible

“I’m sure you won’t be running anywhere.” He pushes off the rail and I go still when he comes closer. “Can I sit?” he asks, sitting anyway.

I tense my jaw, the handle of the knife hard in my palm now as I slowly inch my hand from beneath the pillow.

“I know you think I’m some kind of traitor or backstabber. Hell, Draco thinks I could be too. I don’t know why he stopped trusting me out of nowhere. I used to be his right hand man. Now? Well, I’m more like his errand boy.”

My eyebrows draw together when he places the book down.

“What I wish he would understand is that I’m not my father. To be honest, I never liked the son-of-a-bitch. He was arrogant and got what he deserved from Draco. I’m sure you know the story.” He waves a hand, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I would never betray Draco. He may not think so, but he’s still like a brother to me. He was all I had growing up and he’s saved my life more times than I can count. I don’t care about being a fucking Jefe or the king around here. All I care about is the money. When it comes to my life, family is first. Power? That means nothing to me, but it means everything to Draco and sometimes that is his downfall. I’ve told him letting that power get to his head might kill him one day. He always tells me he’s not afraid of death. I’m sure he’s not. Fucker isn’t afraid of anything.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, scanning him suspiciously.

He shrugs, staring down at the book. “He likes you. Too much. That’s not usually something I can say about Draco to a woman.”

I ease up on the pocketknife when he looks into my eyes, earnestness filling them.

“I don’t know how you got under his skin, or how you got him so wrapped up around your finger, but if I were you, I wouldn’t fuck that up. Do you know how hard that is to come by? Getting Draco to do whatever you want him to do? That shit is fucking hard, believe me. Unless you are his mother, it doesn’t happen. Even with my aunt, he’s not always so lenient. If I would have smashed that sandwich on his expensive table he would have cut off several of my fingers for it. But not Gianna Nicotera. No,” he shakes his head with a light laugh. “Not you, little rebel.”

I swallow hard, unsure of what to say.

He holds my gaze for a few seconds before placing the book beside him. His eyes drop down to my lips and I frown when his chest comes forward. His eyes, they’re still connected to my lips, his hands gripping the edge of the daybed as he slides in closer.

I snatch out the knife and flip it open before he can get too close. The edge of the blade lands right at the center of his throat, right below his Adam’s apple, and he freezes, but that doesn’t stop the deep chuckle from bubbling inside him.

I bare my teeth, leaning closer. “Back. Off. I’d hate to kill you and then have to explain it to your cousin, or worse, Mrs. Molina.”

He holds his hands in the air, playing innocent. I keep my hand leveled, ready to slice at any time, if need be.

“Whoa, calm down, Nicotera. It was just a test.” He draws back completely, but I keep the point of the knife aimed at him. “You like him just as much. Crave him, don’t you?”

I don’t have an answer for that question, so I say nothing. Do nothing.

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “You do. The answer is written in your eyes. You can’t hide it. You like that twisted fucker, probably a little too much. Even after all the shit he did to you. I guess that’s a good thing. Someone who can handle the havoc he causes. If you would have let me kiss you, I would have had to tell him. Or I would have had to kill you myself.” He flashes one of his sharp, smug smiles.

I frown, wondering deep down if Draco told him to do this? But why would he? He doesn’t want Thiago anywhere near me. Draco is too selfish to even think about sharing me in any way.

Thiago is just a prick. He’s full of himself, for sure, and I’m certain he probably would have told Draco if I’d done something. He’s just as intimidated by me as everyone else. Good.

I guess it’s better to try and get rid of me altogether than constantly have to face me.

“Go, Thiago,” I demand, voice low.

He holds his hands in the air innocently. He stands and walks backwards, toward the winding staircase. “I’m gone. No problem.” He sighs, dropping his hands. “But before I go I have to ask . . . are you going to tell him about this? My little test?”

“Should I?” I quirk a brow, folding my arms.

“Only if you want me to die.” His upper lip quirks up. “You’re thinking he sent me in here to do this. No, he didn’t. Even if you’d done something, he would have beaten my ass for it, but he would have believed me. I always bring proof.” He grins.

I roll my eyes. “For the sake of your life, no, I won’t tell him. There’s no point. It was a stupid test. It didn’t work, and now I’m over it.”

He grins again, pointing a wagging finger at me. “I like the way you think.”

I stand up. “Get out.”

He laughs, that annoying laugh that can get under anyone’s skin, picking up his book and then taking off. I watch him from the railing upstairs as he makes his way to the door. Before he can go, I call after him.

He peers back, meeting my eyes.

“Why does Patanza hate you?” I ask.

He turns completely, this time with a full-blown, cheesy grin plastered on his face. “She hates me, huh?”

I nod subtly.

“Long story short . . . she got drunk during one of her first nights here, was all over me at a party and wasn’t doing her job. Draco told me it was okay to be with her, just as long as I protected myself. He didn’t want one of his best guards getting pregnant. So, of course I fucked her. Out by that dirty ass shed in the back. Shit, she was so fucking loud. She was a good fuck, too. Rode me like she was riding a fucking bull.”

I grimace a little.

“The next morning she sees where we are—we passed out outside the shed—and she told me I took advantage of her. She said she never would have done anything with me. She said she was going to tell Draco that I raped her.” He scoffs. “Good thing I recorded it, huh? I wore a camera that night. I always do to parties and on my shipment runs. Sometimes just for the hell of it.” My eyes stretch wide. I realize he must have been wearing one the night I freed Henry. It’s how Draco knew for sure it wasn’t him. He filmed it all. He had proof. He’s probably wearing one now. “She saw the tape, begged me to delete it, but I said no. It was my proof, just in case Draco didn’t believe me, or might have thought she changed her mind. She’s hated me ever since, all because she was ashamed that I, the annoying cousin, let her fuck me like the animal she is, and all the other guards found out. I’m hoping one day she’ll get over it, though. Would be nice to have some of her pussy again. She’s aggressive as hell. Drained my balls good and dry that night with her mouth and her pussy.” He laughs out loud, and it sounds more like a snicker. “What you should know about me is that I always, always have proof, Nicotera. You have to have it when it comes to working for ‘The Jefe.’” He makes air quotes with his empty hand. “Remember that.”

I press my lips when he takes a step backwards. He turns, and when the door is shut, I slouch back down on the daybed again.

Thiago is an arrogant shithead, but from what I’m gathering, he’s no fool. He doesn’t want to feel like a traitor. He looks up to Draco, in a sense. I can tell.

For some reason, I believe him when he says family comes first, but I can tell he can be selfish if it comes down to it. I believe they left him alive on purpose—whoever this Hernandez person is.

It was a power move. Keep the closest person alive and unharmed, just to cause a fuss and make Draco paranoid. This Hernandez person knows him well. Almost too well. They knew exactly what they were doing to Draco by setting Thiago free—and unharmed at that.

* * *

I feel someone tapping my arm. I roll over with a groan and an extremely sore ass. Patanza is standing above me with clothes in hand.

“Get up. Draco wants you down for breakfast,” she says, tossing the clothes beside my head.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“You have thirty minutes,” is all she says, and then she looks me over twice before shaking her head with a scoff.

I frown. “What the hell is that for?”

Taking a step back, she scans me again, like she’s wondering what could possibly be wrong with me. “He was just starting to trust you, and you fucked it up,” she finally spits at me and I straighten my back, peering up at her. “You don’t realize how hard it is to gain his trust. You had it, Gia, and now it’s gone.”

“I understand exactly how hard it is,” I retort, standing. “It’s not easy for him, and I get that.”

“No, you don’t.” Her voice is a little louder. “Because if you did, you would have left that man in chains in that basement, and let Draco handle it the way he wanted to, whether you liked it or not. You think you proved something by going against him, but the only thing you really proved is that you don’t want him to trust you. You want him to be wary of you. You want him to have a reason to watch his back while he’s around you. And, Patrona, if that’s what you want, then by God, keep doing shit like what you did down there. But don’t expect me or anyone else around here to defend you when the day comes that he decides you’re not worth it anymore, because we won’t. He is our Jefe. He pays us well, takes care of us, and he has never lied to us or gone against his word. He takes care of the other guards’ families—he pretty much gives us whatever we want, and the only thing he asks for in return is our loyalty. All he wanted was your loyalty!” Her head moves from side-to-side as she takes the first step down the staircase. “The sad thing is, I don’t even know how you can make up for what you’ve done. We got him back, yeah, but he’s still going to lose a lot of sleep over this . . . but I guess it doesn’t matter because if he’s losing it, you are too.”

Before I can speak, she’s storming down the spiral staircase and marching for the door. It doesn’t close, so I know she’s waiting for me outside of it, probably an order he gave.

I look down at the clothes. An orange dress with spaghetti straps and a pair of gold sandals. She also brought my toothbrush, the toothpaste, and my brush.

Walking down the staircase, I make my way out of the library, past Patanza who ignores me at her post, and enter the nearest bathroom. This bathroom doesn’t have a shower, but there is a large basin and a wide mirror. It’s decorated with gold and black.

I freshen up and get dressed in no time, taking note of the cut on the middle of my neck.

When I walk out, Patanza is already standing in the middle of the hallway. “Let’s go,” she says, turning before I can catch her eye.

She troops up the marble stairs and I follow behind her, raking my fingers through my hair. Once I’m inside the dining room, she takes a few steps aside and stands posted at the doors. I look at her for several seconds, but she merely ignores me.

Whatever.

I walk to the table and take my seat, making sure to sit carefully. I realize I’m close to the time deadline because Draco walks in right away, avoiding my eyes as he takes the seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Molina comes strolling in as well with a yawn, taking her seat across from me. The butlers approach the table with hot food and we eat in silence.

Well, Draco and I do.

Mrs. Molina perks up after her first cup of coffee. She’s talking about some movie she watched late last night with some of her favorite Latino actors in it. I smile at her when she looks at me, but the smiles are forced. Since she’s talking to me, I figure she doesn’t know what I did, and Draco probably wants it that way for a reason.

Why?

Does he not want her opinion of me to change? Or is he holding back because if he tells her, she’ll know he punished me in some way, after promising he wouldn’t?

“What are your plans today, hijo?” she asks him, digging her spoon into her hot cereal.

He shifts in his seat. “I will be going to town today,” he responds, and I pick my head up, looking at him.

“Really? To do what?”

“Run a few errands.” He drops his spoon. “Thiago will be joining too. He has a lot of making up to do.”

“Making up?” she asks, laughing. “So you were wrong? He is not against you?”

“I didn’t say I was wrong. But he’s proved himself worthy so far.”

“How so?” she asks.

“Phone was checked, as well as the tapes we received. He had the cameras in the SUVs running and Guillermo and Patanza looked over the tapes. He was held at gunpoint, as it seems, and they let him go but took everything. They’re trying to get under my skin now. Trying to get me out of hiding.” He drums his fingers on the table. “I still don’t trust him completely.” His eyes swing over to me. “Can’t seem to trust anyone lately though.”

When he says that, I cringe inside. Mrs. Molina doesn’t pick up on his snide remark. Instead, she flags the butler down, asks for more coffee, and then she says, “Well, I told you, Draco. You have to give people chances. You assumed something and he proved you wrong. Thiago is your cousin. You boys grew up together. He trusts you.”

Draco scoffs lightly. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, Mamá.”

She shrugs. “It was worth a shot.”

After we wrap up on breakfast, Draco takes off without a word said to me. I slouch back in my chair, finishing up the much-needed coffee before trudging up to the bedroom and taking a shower.

After I’m done, I look into the mirror, at the red marks still on my right butt cheek. I hiss as I run a finger over one of the welts. I could do something to help it heal, but I won’t.

Somehow, I feel like I deserve the pain. I deserve to see it.

He only wanted my trust.

He only wanted me.

It’s a shame.

I sleep in the bedroom, hoping he’ll come up so we can mend things, but I don’t get the chance to. I know he’s here, most likely in his galería painting, but he’s keeping his distance from me . . . and for some reason it causes an ache to build in my chest.

It’s there because Patanza is right.

I can’t sleep. Not with how heavy my conscious is.

As I start to doze off I swear I feel someone watching me. I feel their fingers running through my hair when they’re close, a soft caress on my cheekbone. I feel them there. Him there, but I don’t move. I curl up even more, sighing when his finger traces the scar on my throat.

I hear him let out a deep sigh when his palm runs down to my hip, squeezing lightly. I don’t know if he can tell that I’m not asleep yet. But I’ll pretend to be if it means he’s close—If it means he feels safer with me this way.

But, before I know it, he’s gone and it’s cold again. The bedroom door clicks shut and I don’t see him again for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next day, around noon, there is a knock on my door. Patanza is standing on the other side when I open it and she exhales, seeming agitated.

“Jefe wants you to get dressed to go out. Meet him downstairs.”

“Go out where?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Just hurry.”

I get dressed and ready in less than twenty minutes and follow her down. Draco is standing by the door with tan slacks on and a light-blue button-up shirt tucked in. The pants sit low enough on his hips to look comfortable, but still formal.

He spots me and watches me walk down in my burgundy jumpsuit. It’s a sleeveless V-neck with a collar around the neck. The cleavage is wide open and cuts down, just below my navel, showing off the curves of my breasts. It’s revealing, and most likely makes a man wonder what’s beneath the outfit. I wore it on purpose, along with strappy, open toed heels, so he can stare like he’s doing now.

But, just like the typical Draco Molina, he forces his eyes away, focusing on one of the paintings on the wall.

“We’re going somewhere?” I ask when I’m close.

“Out,” is all he says, and he opens the door to walk outside. Guillermo and Diego are standing beside a black SUV. They open the back door for us when we get closer. Draco steps aside, letting me in first. As I slide across the bench, he puts on a pair of sunglasses before climbing in as well.

I sit by the opposite window, glancing sideways. He’s dialing a number on his burn phone. He brings the phone to his ear, speaking in Spanish about someone meeting him at a certain place and someone else not answering the phone. I assume he’s talking to someone about Thiago with how aggravated he’s becoming. He ends the call, finally putting his attention on me without a word.

Guillermo starts the car up and Diego straps himself into the passenger seat. There is a Mercedes in front of us, black of course, but there is also a silver car in front of that one.

“Are your guards in those other cars?” I ask, still feeling him staring.

“Yes.”

“Where are we going?” And why are there so many of them?

“To town.”

“For what?” I inquire, treading as lightly as possible.

“Business.”

I know he won’t say more than that. Honestly, I don’t care. It’s nice to get out of the house after all the hostility.

We ride along the dirt road, passing by those familiar little houses again. Kids are playing, but this time they don’t stop to watch the expensive cars go by. They carry on with their lives without a care in the world. They are younger kids. The older ones are most likely in school.

We ride for nearly an hour. I shift in my seat repeatedly, keeping my gaze out of the window. Draco has been quiet the entire ride. I keep staring out, on the verge of falling asleep, but then I see something I don’t expect.

The car slows down but I keep staring.

A blue field. A field full of them. The Blue Betrayals.

Water sprinklers are running, refreshing them, keeping them hydrated and healthy. I realize this area is secluded, protected by a gray fence. It’s shadier here somehow, perhaps because it’s almost on a hill, slanted. There are trees, too, big and bushy, which is unusual for this kind of land.

I look back at Draco who tucks his phone into his pocket and then opens his door. “Get out.”

Blinking rapidly, I pull the door handle and step out. Diego pops up beside me, his handgun gripped between his fingers. He doesn’t look at me, which isn’t surprising at all. Draco steps around the front of the car and looks out at the field of flowers. It’s massive, way bigger than the garden of chocolate cosmos.

“It’s the only place away from home with grass that doesn’t get too dry,” he says to no one in particular. “The hill helps. The sun can’t shine directly on them. They are meant to be in cooler zones. With the sprinklers and my gardeners, they have lasted a long time.” He walks through the gate and begins down a dirt path. Diego steps behind and nudges me, and I look sideways at him before following suit.

As I walk through, I can really see the thorns. Some of them stick out in the walkway, sharp like blue claws. If I fell, they would cut me—pierce right through the skin.

Draco continues walking along the path, and I notice there’s an outhouse about a yard away, at the end of the path. It must be where he’s going.

Diego and Guillermo are behind us, the other guards posted along the street to keep watch. I try to keep up, but Draco’s strides are longer. I get the feeling he doesn’t want me catching up.

So I keep walking, taking in the Blue Betrayals. I can smell them when the wind blows, hear their petals whispering. A few more steps and we are here, standing less than a foot away from the outhouse.

Draco moves over, as do I when he cocks his head at the guards and they come rushing forward. Guillermo unlocks it with a key, and when the door creaks open, I gasp.

Inside, there is a man. And not just any man. It’s . . . Henry. He’s surrounded by a cluster of the blue flowers, as well as their thorns, body propped on the dirty toilet. I have to cover my nose, the stench is so strong.

Henry isn’t alone in there. There’s another guest, with yellowish-white scales and beady red eyes. It’s hanging off his shoulders, the head moving up around his hair, the tongue making a soft hissing noise as it flickers.

He’s been bitten several times by it. An albino snake. There are marks on his arms and thighs. He’s sweating like a pig. He’s absolutely filthy, and there is blood crusted all around his swollen mouth like he was punched repeatedly.

Henry groans in agony, and I step forward, but Diego holds a thick arm up, keeping me back with a stern brow. Tears build at the rims of my eyes. I feel so sorry for him. This is my fault. I only made matters worse.

“What did you do to him?” I bark, turning to face Draco.

“Her name is Silvia,” he announces, ignoring my tantrum.

I clench my fists as he maneuvers around me. “Draco, this is ridiculous. I’m the one who let him go. Why are you punishing him for it?”

“She lives here, in these fields. She loves these flowers. She can slither right through them and hardly get pricked. It’s fascinating really. We saw her one day and I was about to behead her, but the way she moved through these flowers, like the thorns were feathers or something, well, I figured I’d keep her alive. She was fearless, and, surprisingly she hasn’t left yet. She’s a gorgeous snake, too. I don’t think she’s from here, though. Might’ve escaped from the zoo that’s less than a mile away.”

“Draco,” I breathe, switching my gaze from him to Henry. “He’s dying.”

“Exactly. She’s poisonous. And she can sense a coward and a liar just as well as I can.”

Henry’s head falls, hitting the wall.

“Just kill him, then. End it. Stop torturing him!”

“Why would I do that?”

Anger blinds me. I step forward, shoving past Diego and snatching the gun out of Draco’s holder.

Guillermo immediately draws his gun on me, Diego following suit. But they are wary, because I’m not pointing at Draco. I’m pointing at Henry. His eyes are sealed. I’m sure he doesn’t even know I’m here. He can’t go out so slowly. It’s better to end it.

Right now.

“Do it then,” Draco murmurs, head tilting. “Go ahead. Kill your coward friend.”

My hand trembles, finger barely squeezing the trigger. But I keep it aimed, right at his head, like Daddy taught me at the gun range when I was sixteen.

One eye open, level my hand, steady my arm.

I stare at Henry for a long time, my eyes burning with remorse. I try and level my hand but I can’t. I can’t kill anyone else. I want him to stop suffering, but not like this. Not like this.

A hand drops down on the gun and Draco lowers it, standing close, focused solely on me. “There is no need to kill him. I’m sending him to Brazil.”

“What?” I look up, eyes damp. “Brazil? Why?”

“He’ll live there. Live, Gianna.”

My eyebrows furrow. I look from Draco to Henry, hands still shaky. He takes the gun from me, placing it back inside his holder and then holding up a hand at the guards. They lower their weapons in an instant, but they keep their eyes on me.

“Why?” I ask again.

“Because it’s what you want. And if it will give you some kind of peace, fine. But he doesn’t get to go back to the United States. He’ll be in Brazil on his own and being watched after. Tabs will be taken. He won’t be completely free. I will still have eyes on him at all times, no matter what he does.”

Relief hits me, swelling in my chest like an inflated balloon.

“Draco, I—” I don’t get it. I seriously don’t.

“Silvia has been devenomized, but that doesn’t mean she won’t bite.” He smirks. He’s drugged up, but he will be fine . . . unless he does something stupid.” Draco snaps his fingers and Diego walks forward, picking up Silvia and returning her to the fields. And just like he said, she slithers away without a care in the world, practically invincible to the thorns.

I look up at him, speechless.

“You made your call, and now I’ve made mine. Together. King and queen.” He holds my face between his fingers. “Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you. This is a huge risk for me, but that’s how much I want this to work. I thought about it. About Lion. About what he promised me long ago. He wouldn’t send a threat my way. He would have told me to let Henry go, too, or made it happen himself.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “He would have.”

“I see so much of him inside you. How the fuck am I supposed to ignore it?” He digs into his back pocket as Diego and Guillermo drag Henry out of the shed. Handing a black and white photograph to me, he says, “Your proof.”

The photograph is old. But in the picture is a man with a beige fedora. His skin is really tan, and he has a thick, black moustache. I feel like I’ve seen him before. He has a cigar pinched between his lips, and his arms wrapped around a young, familiar-looking boy. Beside the boy is Daddy. My Daddy. He has a cigar as well, but he’s holding it up in the air with a wide smile on display for the camera. He looks both relaxed and elated, like he loves them. Like he cares about them. Like he trusts them.

“This was taken the first time ever I met Lion. I was twelve, and I trusted him right away. He came here, to Mexico, one summer. He helped my father get a visa into the country. They set up deals together. They were almost partners—Lion ran shit in the United States, and my father ran Mexico. That was the order, plain and simple, and it worked.”

I look up at him slowly, but I can’t read his eyes. Not behind those dark sunglasses.

“Read the back,” he murmurs.

I flip it over and there are words in red ink. Holy shit. It’s Daddy’s handwriting. Sloppy and masculine. I remember it well. Mom hated it.

The words are: Keep this with you forever, kid. And always stay strong.

That’s all it says, but I can hear Daddy saying those words, almost like a whisper in my ear, echoing.

“He gave this to you?” I muster.

He nods, just barely. “Proof enough?”

It is. This one picture alone shouts a thousand words. There is love buried in the ink. There is respect. These men were close. Draco looked up to him; I could tell. The way he’s leaning toward him, but still making sure his Dad is close.

“Are there more?” I ask.

“Several, in my father’s storage.”

Grunting pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see Diego and Guillermo carrying a naked Henry to the SUV. Draco touches my cheekbone, and when I look at him again, his sunglasses are gone.

“He wanted this, Gianna. You hate me for some of the shit I do, but it’s time to stop fighting it. This is what I do. It’s how I live. I’m done with these games. I’m not trying to hurt you anymore.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Then don’t hurt me.”

He lets out a deep breath when I hand him the picture back. He tucks it into his back pocket again and then presses a hand on the small of my back, guiding me back to the SUV.

“You still don’t trust me,” I say when we’re halfway there.

He doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t trust me.

“No more bullshit,” he says, voice firm and deep.

I start to speak when we’re closer to the SUV, but just as I open my mouth, something booms, and the ground shakes around us. Gasping, I look to the right and see that the silver Mercedes has exploded. Fire shoots up, smoke billowing in the air instantly.

Guns cock, and the guards begin to shout as they rush around the cars. Guillermo and Diego drop Henry on the dirt path in a heartbeat, rushing for the vehicles.

But in a matter of seconds, the second car explodes too, sending three of the guards flying back into the field of blue.

A scream slips out of me as I’m tackled to the ground.