Halfway during the ride to the airport, Draco tosses Henry’s phone out of the window.

After doing what I did, I expected to be trembling with paranoia. I expected myself to question what I’d just done—especially after crushing Toni’s skull . . . but I haven’t. Honestly, I don’t think I ever will. I’ve changed. I realize that now.

I am not the woman who was kidnapped, tortured, and trapped in that shed. I am stronger. Smarter. Colder.

Power intrigues me. Death no longer affects me. The crown is so close to my fingertips—I feel like I can already feel the smooth gold and the precious jewels. Once we get rid of Hernandez and her crew, the crown will be mine. Ours.

We arrive at his villa in Puerto Vallarta again after a flight that was a little chattier coming back than when we left.

As soon as Guillermo parks, everyone climbs out of the car, I with a sense of triumph. I’m still pissed she wasn’t there. We need to find her and get this over with already. Such a coward she is, hiding away.

I follow Draco’s lead to the door. He retrieves a key from his pocket and sticks it into the lock, leading the way inside. I glance over my shoulder and Patanza is behind me, Clark only a step behind her, looking at her ass.

“Look away before I stab your eyes out, gringo.” She rolls her eyes, entering the house.

Clark chuckles, but definitely doesn’t stop his staring.

Draco walks into the living room, heading for a corner table set up with tequila. A heavy sigh escapes me, and as badly as I want to toss my body on the couch and rest, I don’t bother. I need a shower. I need to think.

Draco pours himself a shot of the tequila, releasing a long sigh.

I start to walk to the stairs, to the bedroom I was staying in for the past four nights, but Draco calls my name, stopping me in my tracks.

I look over my shoulder at him. He’s in front of the wide glass door now, shot glass in hand, ready to be taken in one smooth gulp.

“To my room,” he commands without looking at me.

I could question it, but I don’t.

His room means privacy.

All I can think about is how much we need it right now.

I turn and go up the stairs to my room for a change of clothes. I walk back down to his bedroom afterward, which is much nicer than mine, set up with a king-sized bed and draped with a Mexican-styled comforter and throw pillows to match. The headboard is wide and thick, and seems to be made of glass and wood.

The floor is made of copper Mexican tile, and there is a wraparound terrace that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. A table is set up out there, topped with unlit candles and clean plates, merely for decoration.

There is a lighter on one of the nightstands and I pick it up, sparking six of the candles in the room.

I then walk to the terrace and let the wind sweep over me. It feels amazing. Too bad I can’t fully enjoy these blissful moments. This paradise. I catch it when I can.

With a sigh, I turn around and walk to his bathroom, starting up the shower and scrubbing the blood off my body, the hot water soothing my sore muscles.

I scrub hard—so hard my skin starts to turn a light shade of red. I don’t stop scrubbing until I hear a noise outside the bathroom.

I rinse and then grab a cotton robe, stepping onto the glossy tile floor and walking out to the bedroom.

Draco stands in front of the entryway of the balcony, his back to me. His hair is a mess—disheveled and wild. He’s grown facial hair, which doesn’t look bad on him at all.

I have never seen him like this. He always used to look so well put together. Clean, neat, and shaved. Now, it seems he couldn’t care less. And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he’s too focused and determined to worry about his appearance at the moment.

“Why did you kill him today?” he asks without looking back.

I study him for a split second. His breaths are steady. He doesn’t seem hostile. When his head turns, eyes sparking and expecting an answer, I say, “He wasn’t going to tell you anything useful. He kept his mouth shut for months because he was loyal to her.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Draco, you had him tortured and dismembered, and he still didn’t talk. Not once did he waver or crack. That’s loyalty. He wanted to protect her until his dying breath. He loved her more than his own life.”

He turns fully, looking me all over. Grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head, he reveals his solid body. The beautiful ripples of his muscles glow from the candlelight, the curves and dips in his back impossible to look away from. He seems so soft, smooth, and perfect on the surface, but deep inside, he’s a battered, broken-down beast with a thousand walls and a soul harder than steel.

After a brief silence, he says, “I know what you’re trying to do, Gianna.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to gain my trust back. Believe me,” he says, peering over his shoulder, “it’ll take more than a few kills to gain that back. What you did was unforgivable.”

I feel my throat tighten, my eyes shifting to the terrace. “How long?”

“How long what?” he asks, slightly irritated as he unbuttons his jeans.

“How long until you can trust me again?”

“Trust is not something I just hand out. I started to trust you, and you betrayed me. No matter what I feel, trusting you again won’t come easy.”

I don’t know why that pains me so much to hear. My beating heart seems to slow in speed, the thumping a somber beat in my own ears as I study him.

Pulling my eyes away, I walk to the terrace, stepping out, the coolness of the cement kissing the bottoms of my feet.

I grip the rail and stare ahead at the ocean. The moon is perched at the end of the dark horizon, the milky light rippling with the calm waves.

Heat presses against my backside seconds later, and a strong arm closes around me. His mouth presses on the back of my neck, and he gives me a soft, simple kiss. Warm. Slightly damp. Enough to send a gush of heat tunneling through my entire body, pinging me right in the core.

“Like I said,” he whispers, dragging his lips up to the back of my ear. “I want to hate you just as much as I want to love you right now. Nothing about that has changed.”

“I don’t know what else to do to get you to trust me, Draco.” I turn in his arms, meeting his brown gaze. “I’m here with you. I came back; I found you.” I press a palm to his chest and push a little to get a deeper look into his eyes.

“Forcing it won’t make it any better.” He tips my chin when I start to drop my gaze. “But what you did today made me proud.”

A smile tingles the edges of my lips. “Me killing someone made you proud?”

“You did it for me.”

“And I would do it again.”

His face turns serious. He lifts his head, looking over me, at the ocean. “When we find her, she is mine to kill.”

I nod, twisting to look at the moon. “I know.” I sigh. “I would say I’m sorry again, but like you said, apologies are useless. They don’t help anything.”

“That’s right,” he responds, voice husky, deep.

“I missed you,” I whisper.

The pads of his fingers tickle the curve of my neck, his lips on top of my head. “How can you miss a man like me?” he asks in my hair, his fingers pressing into my skin. “After all that has happened to you because of me…how?”

That’s a good question—one I constantly have to ask myself. I have no idea why I missed him. I should have left this world and never looked back.

Meeting Draco Molina changed my life drastically, and I really am not sure if it was for the better or for the worse. My life was once so simple, so stable, but now, at every turn, there is someone or something lurking. Someone will always be out for me. To the world, I will always be a target, because he loves me, and if anything ever happens to me, he will let it be known how important I was to him.

“I can’t deny what I feel,” I finally say. “We met before, as kids. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was meant to happen this way.” I pause, shifting on my feet. “Maybe you aren’t a monster to me. Maybe you are my hero instead.”

He breathes harder, and I hear the small groan bubbling in his chest. “I am far from a hero, Gianna. I am still the villain. You may see the good, but I am not a good man. The people have seen the damage I’ve done. They know it’s me against the world. To them, I will never be a hero. To them, I will forever be the devil in expensive suits. A lot of innocent people have died because of me—because of what Yessica did to Thiago. And a lot more will probably die soon.”

“We have to do what we have to do.”

“Many months ago, you wouldn’t have been saying this.” He raises a brow.

“Things change.”

His eyes drop to my cleavage. I almost forget I’m standing in only a robe. He runs his tongue over his lips, eyeing me briefly before focusing on my bosom again. Grabbing the loosely tied rope around my waist, he tugs on it, causing it to fall.

My robe falls open, but I don’t waver. I don’t cower or cover myself up. He takes a step back to absorb what he sees, and I stand there, letting him take it all in.

“Some things may have changed,” he rasps, “but there is one thing that hasn’t.” He steps closer, cupping a large hand around the back of my neck and applying pressure to make my chin tilt.

“What’s that?” I ask when his lips barely touch mine.

“Your body is still the same. Especially your pussy. Tight and so fucking wet.”

I clench with need as he runs a palm over my hip, swiveling it around and sinking it between my legs. His middle finger presses into me, applying gentle pressure to my clit when he’s found it. His eyes are locked on mine, lips parted, breathing deep and heavy.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, voice a near growl.

“Yes,” I whimper when he slowly massages my clit with the pad of his finger.

“Beg me.”

“You know I don’t like to beg.”

“Then you don’t want me to fuck you.”

I stare into his hard eyes, trying to challenge his statement, but I feel so weak. So vulnerable. So ready.

He stares right back, and before I know it, his finger is absent. He picks me up, forcing my legs around him and walking inside again.

Tossing me on the bed, he flips me over, bringing my ass up in the air. His belt buckle jingles, and when I look to my left, at the oversized mirror that gives full view of our reflection, I watch as he folds the leather belt in half and brings his arm in the air.

A sharp sting bites my ass, and I let out a soft cry.

“Beg,” he demands.

I clutch the sheets, pressing my cheek to the comforter, studying him at this angle. He looks so hostile and angry, but still so wickedly delicious. The candlelight flickers, revealing his pulsing jaw.

He’s still upset with me. I can see it—feel the quiet rage radiating off his already hot skin.

He grabs my ass with one large hand, lifting the folded belt in the air again.

“I won’t ask again, Gianna,” he growls.

“Please,” I finally whisper, giving into his demand.

He tosses the belt aside, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Through the mirror, I see his pants and then the briefs come down, his hard, thick cock appearing.

He fists himself and pumps with ease, using his other hand to grip my waist. He moves forward, barely an inch, his thick, heavy cock still in hand, and slides the head of it through my slit and up to my clit. He does it over and over and over again, making me writhe, ache—need so much more of him.

“Beg again,” he groans.

My mind is spiraling now, my body overheated. Seeing him like this, how he stares down at me like he wants to own and dominate every inch of me, leaves me no choice but to beg.

I breathe raggedly, my damp hair falling over my face. His cock slides back and forth, toying with my clit. He barely dips the head into my entrance. He does it just so I can feel it—know he’s there. Teasing me until I break.

“Está panochita está bien mojada,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. This little pussy is so wet.

I breathe my pleasure, loving the way his native language rolls of his tongue.

“Say more,” I beg. “In Spanish.”

“Ruégame,” he demands with bite in his tone. Beg me.

“Please,” I beg again.

He lets out a sharp, stilled breath, still gripping his cock, lightly pumping. His other hand rides up my spine and clutches the back of my neck. The head of his cock presses on my entrance, and finally, he sinks into me, tightening his grip on my neck with each inch inside.

Nothing about this is gentle.

None of it is sweet or nice.

He holds the back of my neck so tight, I’m sure it will leave a bruise.

This is dangerous and angry. He’s still not done hate-fucking me yet, and frankly, I don’t care.

His hips thrust forward, and he slams into me, forcing my face down on the comforter, making my back arch.

“Ruégame,” he commands again through clenched teeth. “Ahora, niñita.” Now, little girl.

“Cojeme más fuerte, Jefe,” I beg, my breaths rapid now. Fuck me harder, Jefe.

I throw my hair over my shoulder, but he catches it, pulling on it like one would the reins of a horse. His lips come closer to my ear. “Again,” he groans, pulling out, making me ache all over again, more now.

“Fuck me, please,” I sigh, plead.

And he has no problem doing so. He flips me onto my back, spreading my legs wider apart. His cock is buried inside me again in no time, and he folds my legs, clutching my hips as he stands in front of the edge of the bed. He lifts me up, angling my pussy just right, and as he holds me tight, he slams into me again.

Over, and over, and over again.

He watches me with fierce, wicked eyes, not once wavering. Not once does he pull his searing gaze away from me.

He wants me to know that he owns me—mind, body, and soul. He wants the whole fucking world to know I belong to him.

Him and only him.

He bends over, his mouth coming to one of my nipples, and he sucks it into his mouth until it’s supple and pebbled, his hips still grinding. With the sensational tug of my nipples, and his cock hitting my most tender spot, I can’t help what happens next.

My thighs shake around his waist, my eyes rolling backward. It’s too much. He’s too much. Too amazing. So fucking good.

God, I come. I come so hard around his delicious cock.

I hold him tight, my fingernails sinking into his skin as a hard moan rips right through me. He groans from the pierce of my nails, but he doesn’t stop moving. “You are squirting all over my cock, niñita,” he says in my ear, voice deep and raspy. So sexy. So bad.

He curses beneath his breath as his strokes become unsteady, a hand sliding down to hitch my knee up to my chest, plunging deeper, gripping the meat of my ass as he pounds away. Before I come down from the high of my orgasm, he’s pulling out and sliding down, his mouth hovering over my pussy.

I look down and his eyes are trained on mine. He seals his mouth around my clit first and then slides his hot, smooth tongue down and around, licking up every drop.

My fingernails sink into the comforter, my back bowing. I beg him, “…please…please, Draco.” It’s too much. Too powerful. I feel like I’m going to explode and shatter by a million tiny orgasms.

But of course he doesn’t let up. He eats me hungrily, sucking and licking my pussy, taking it all in, until I squeal so loudly I’m sure everyone can hear it.

It’s impossible for my body to die down, especially when he’s deep inside me again, his mouth claiming mine. I taste myself on him. My body is writhing beneath his.

His hand cups the back of my neck, and he presses my forehead to his shoulder, our bodies completely molded. Becoming one. Merging. Syncing. His other hand is on my hip, and as my orgasm continues shooting through me, his body stills, his head turning to look down at me.

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip before releasing it, holding on tight to him, his savage groan vibrating on my bosom.

His hips work hard with each spurt of release. When he finally collapses, I twitch and clench my walls around his satisfied cock, breathing way too hard. My hair is slick with sweat, as well as my body.

I don’t know what the hell that was or how it happened so quickly. I don’t know how he knows my body so well or how he did this to me—how he always does this to me—but it was exactly what I needed.

His hate and his passion: a mix of the two always leaves me craving more.

“Eres toda mía, Gianna. Para siempre.” You are all mine, Gianna. Forever.

I release my last sigh, shutting my eyes, and giving him a simple nod. “I’m all yours, Draco, for as long as you’ll have me.”