Two hours have passed and Draco is much more relaxed than he was when we first entered the room. I guess I can give credit for that to Mrs. Molina. She kept bringing drinks to him, probably knowing how much more lenient her son is while under the influence.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still like a hawk on me. He has me on his lap at one of the round tables, holding me close to him, a firm hand on my hip. He’s laughing and joking, playing a tequila shot game with one of the guards named Simon.

I noticed Thiago came in about an hour ago. He was late, but dressed in a clean black suit. Draco saw him as well, and he’s been watching him ever since. He still doesn’t trust him, and I don’t blame him. There’s something sneaky about him.

The way he looks at me is an issue. He stares at me like he owns me—or like he could. I can’t lie and say the sight of him doesn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, he makes my skin crawl. I see why Patanza doesn’t like him. He’s not easy on the eyes, and doesn’t seem like a nice person either.

However, Mrs. Molina is happy to have him here, and I don’t want to complain and ruin her night. I know if I say even a peep about it to Draco, he will handle it in his typical Jefe fashion. He would cause a scene in front of all the guests simply because he could. Just because there’s a party going on doesn’t mean he won’t prove who calls the shots around here.

Mrs. Molina opens her gifts one by one, and when she comes across mine, her eyes grow as wide as discs, her smile stretching. She looks up at me, and I tip my wine glass, a small smile on display.

“I can’t believe it,” she sighs. She holds up the knitting needles made of gold, carved delicately with vine and leafy designs. “They are so beautiful,” she coos.

“I knew she’d love it,” Draco murmurs. I’m glad she does. It wasn’t cheap. I was surprised they were even selling it at the market, but they had special gifts behind the counter, for the patrons looking for the more exquisite things. I’ll have to remember it the next time I go out—if I ever get the chance.

After Mrs. Molina opens all her gifts, thanking each person profusely for them, the cake is cut, the music picks up again, and people go back to the bar for more drinks. They really know how to party here. Shot after shot. Bottle after bottle.

I’ve only had three glasses of wine. I can’t do hard liquor tonight. I’m still bothered—feeling guilty about Ronaldo. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I made him a promise and couldn’t fulfill it. Whatever’s happened to him feels like it’s at least partially my fault.

“Want me to get you another drink?” I ask Draco, twisting in his lap.

He looks toward the bar, noticing it’s pretty vacant. Most people are dancing or mingling. “Yeah, reina. Go. Get yourself another, too.”

I press my lips and nod, standing up. Before I can get away, he grabs my hand and folds it over, bringing my knuckles up to his lips. He kisses them, warm brown gaze heavy on mine. I feel the hot swirl at the pit of my belly and smile.

“Hurry back,” he says.

“I will.”

I take off as Simon picks up a card from the deck and then curses through his teeth, picking up a shot glass and downing the tequila. I’m not sure what game it is, but he has to take a shot every time he plucks certain ones. Draco is winning. He’s only had two shots so far, and they’ve been playing for over an hour.

I make my way toward the bar, feeling several eyes on me. I don’t look to find out who is staring. Of course they’ll stare. They don’t know who I am, or why Draco has me so close to him. It must be an unusual thing to witness.

I stop at the bar, asking the butler for a whiskey for Draco. I decide to get another glass of wine for myself, hoping it will cool my nerves. It’s the red wine Mrs. Molina wanted from the market, and it’s delicious, not too bitter or too sweet. Just the way I like it.

“I don’t think I officially introduced myself to you,” a deep voice says behind me.

I turn quickly, meeting wicked, dark eyes. Thiago puts on a crooked smile, a neat whiskey clutched in his hand.

My heart thuds in my chest, but I keep my face even, remaining calm.

“You speak English well,” I note, turning to him after the butler hands me the drinks.

“I know just as much as my cousin,” he assures me. “Learned young, just like he did.”

“I see.” I glance over at Draco. He’s watching already, but he hasn’t made a move. Yet. “We haven’t officially been introduced, but I sense Draco has made it that way for a reason,” I continue.

“Probably,” he laughs. “He’s a greedy fucker. Always has been. Doesn’t want what’s his being talked to or touched.” He peers over at Draco, who has his forearm on the table now, fists clenched tight. “He’ll be making his way over here at any moment, I’m sure.”

“Why is he letting you walk around freely?” I ask, frowning a bit, and he drops his head to focus on me, his dark eyes flashing from the lights. “I heard what you did—how you’re stealing his things. How can he possibly be okay with that?”

“Oh, he’s not okay with shit like that. But I didn’t steal his stuff. It was stolen from me by that fucking cartel.”

I huff. “And you expect anyone here to believe that, with the way you walk around—all high and mighty, like you own the place too?”

He shrugs, like he really doesn’t give a shit. “He’s never fully trusted me. If my aunt didn’t have my back so much I’m sure he would have killed me a long time ago.”

“Like he killed your father.” I hold his gaze.

His cocky smirk fades, lips growing thin. “He’s told you about that . . .”

“Much about it, yes.” I smile, a sly smile that I’m sure gets under his skin. “The thing is, Thiago, if I were you, I wouldn’t cross him the way your father did. I wouldn’t push him. You of all people should know what’s he’s capable of. Right?”

His upper lips peels back to reveal a full row of straight, slightly sharp teeth. “I like you,” he chuckles. “And I see why my cousin likes you, too. You’re feisty. Smart. You know how to get under a man’s skin, even if his skin happens to be pretty damn thick.”

I quirk a brow, holding the drinks tighter in hand.

“But, Gianna Nicotera, I think what you fail to realize is that I am not the monster here. I’m not a traitor. I do what I have to do to survive, but when it comes to my family’s reputation, I don’t believe in tarnishing it. They assume I work with Hernandez, but he’s the one who sends me on the larger shipments every time. He’s looking for a reason to kill me. They fucking robbed me, killed those guards, and left me alive to deliver the message. Of course Draco doesn’t buy it.” He steps closer, towering over me. My eyebrows draw together, but I keep my eyes on his, unwavering. “He thinks they left me alive because I promised them something. But there isn’t anything they can give me that Draco can’t. He asks, why didn’t they just cut my head off and send it in a box to deliver their message? I say, because I’m a smart motherfucker who knows how to talk himself out of any situation. I did it with him just the other day, and I’m still alive for it. He won’t give me credit for that though—being the smart one. The one that thinks on his toes during the worst of circumstances.”

He looks at Draco, who’s standing now, picking up his shot glass and bringing it up to his lips. “You should go on back to him. He told me to never talk to you. I just couldn’t help myself. I always end up breaking his rules.” He laughs at that, and then he turns around, giving Draco a solid stare before walking out of the room.

I sigh and turn, but Draco is already coming for me. He takes the whiskey out of my hand, roughly setting it down on the bar station. “What the fuck did he say to you?”

I step sideways. “He was being a smartass. Says he would never betray you.”

He scoffs. “Bullshit.”

“He seemed serious, even if he’s a smart ass,” I tell him, handing him his drink. “Do you really think your own cousin would risk the family business like that?”

“His father did—my uncle, remember?” he seethes, eyebrows stitching. “He can’t be fully trusted.”

“You grew up together. Mrs. Molina still trusts him, too, even after everything she’s been through. Why can’t you?”

His jaw pulses. “I don’t trust anyone. This world is full of fucking traitors just waiting to put a blade in my back.”

When he says that, I feel my heart drop. “You don’t trust anyone,” I repeat.

Just hours ago he said he wanted to trust me—that he wanted to make me his partner and do this right. He doesn’t trust anyone now? He’s just drunk. Drunk and stupid, and saying whatever will feed his bloated ego.

I grip my glass and pull my eyes away from his. “I’m going to get some air,” I mutter. “Don’t send your guards after me.”

I walk off before he can say anything. I’m surprised he doesn’t stop me, but I won’t give him a reason to. Instead I keep going, leaving the room and turning to get to the corridor that leads to the library.

Mrs. Molina is standing outside the door with a piece of cake on a plate. She’s nearly finished eating it. When she spots me, she sucks the icing off the tip of her thumb and smiles.

“Oh, Gia.” Her eyes light up. She’s a bit tipsy, too. I can tell when she starts to giggle. A butler walks by and she flags him down, handing him the half-eaten cake. “How are you liking the party?”

“It’s fun,” I lie with a smile.

“It is. I’m so glad you are here. My son has never behaved so well.”

My mouth twitches. I don’t want to talk about him right now.

“Come on,” she insists, grabbing my wrist. “Walk with me. I need to sober up a bit before getting to bed.”

I laugh. “Almost drunk, huh?”

“Almost?” She laughs, and then sighs, our heels clicking across the marble. I look back, glad none of the guards are following us. He can at least do that for me—leave me alone. “I don’t know if Draco told you, but his father would take me to Spain every year for my birthday. We would drink and party so much, no matter how old I felt. We used to have such a good time together. I miss those days with Carlos.”

I look over at her as we stop right where the stairs that lead to the galería are. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

“Every single day. And so, so much,” she says, rather painfully. “I wanted to drink tonight to remind myself of him. To imagine him here with me in spirit, enjoying this night with me. It may not be Spain, but it has been a good night, with great music and delicious cake.”

“It has.”

She looks me over twice, gripping the guardrail. It’s quiet for a few seconds. I shift in my heels, looking down at the galería door. “Do you think my son can make you happy?”

That question catches me way off guard. I tilt my head to look at her, opening my mouth, but then clamping it shut in an instant, realizing that I don’t know the answer to that. “I—I don’t know,” I finally respond.

“I hope that he can,” she says in a near whisper. “And I hope that you can make him happy, too. I hope that one day he will quit all of this, because the riches and the power don’t matter. It’s what his father thought—that it mattered most—but it doesn’t. Draco deserves to have a life. I hate that he’s a wanted man. I fear for his life every single time he steps out of the door. I fear for my own life sometimes, but I don’t so much mind the thought of leaving this world. It’s just being in this world without him that would kill me. Losing my son—my only son . . . well, I wouldn’t want to live. Every day would cause suffering. I just want him to do the right thing one day—quit this so that he can go far away and enjoy his life.”

“He seems to love what he does.”

“He does. And I don’t blame him.” She looks down at the galería door, sighing. “After all he has been through, all he has seen, I can’t blame him at all. Sometimes I wonder why he isn’t angrier.” Her head picks back up and she locks eyes with me. “I hope he can make you happy one day. Maybe not now, but someday soon. I hope Lion was right. I hope you two become inseparable.”

I press my lips, wanting to smile broadly, but unable to. Daddy talked about us with her, too. Of course he did.

“Well,” she yawns, stepping away from the rail. “I thought I could make it to midnight but I am exhausted. I think I should go to bed.” She rests a flat palm on my cheek. “Tell my Draco that I love him.”

“Okay.” I smile.

Her gaze is gentle when she pulls away. She walks past me, in her purple gown, and continues walking without a glance back. I look after her until I can’t hear her steps anymore.

I turn and look down the steps, at Draco’s galería door. I don’t want to go back to the party. I really don’t want to face him just yet.

He’s drunk right now, but I’m hoping he’ll sober up soon and return to his regular Draco self.

I place my wine glass down on the corner table and then take the steps down, going to the door. He’s been going in there a lot lately, almost every other day. I’m curious what he’s been painting.

He said he doesn’t mind me going in there, just as long as I don’t touch anything. I’ll make myself useful and see what I’ve been missing. It’s been a while since he’s brought me here. He’s had no reason to bring me down to this room that makes a statement, either by punishment or by pleasure. Or a mix of both.

I make it down and reach for the knob. To my dismay, it’s locked.

“Damn it,” I mutter, rattling the door like it will magically open. I guess he doesn’t want people in it tonight. Understandable.

I step back and look to my right, but then my eyebrows pinch together, spotting another door. It’s smaller, all black with a black doorknob.

I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but seeing as it’s nearly tucked behind a column and blends into the shadows, I don’t think I was supposed to.

I walk toward it cautiously. This is one room that I haven’t been taken into. I grip the doorknob, but it too is locked.

Releasing a heavy breath, I take a step back, looking it over. I hear the guests upstairs, still boisterous, the music playing loudly, proving the party won’t be ending anytime soon.

But then I hear something else.

Something that isn’t the guests at all.

It’s a heavy, loud groan.

It transforms into a deep, long moan, almost like a cry for help. It’s coming through this locked door. In there.

Leaning forward, I press my ear to it again, listening harder. I don’t hear anything for a few seconds, to the point that I think I’ve imagined the sound, but as I start to pull away, I hear it again.

It’s a man.

What the hell?

I reach up, rapidly searching the top frame of the door for a key. He usually has them around. To my luck, there is one taped to the top and I snatch it down, stuffing it into the lock and stepping inside. I check over my shoulder before shutting the door behind me. When it’s closed, I’m engulfed in darkness.

My heartbeat doubles in speed. I don’t know what I’m walking into, but the person sounds like they’re in terrible pain. I need to see who it is.

I tip toe down the wooden steps, but each one creaks, giving me away. Whoever it is, they already know I’m here. I hear chains rattling, the groaning becoming louder. When I hear the chains, I know no one is hurt by accident. This is for a reason.

Chains mean punishment here.

With each step down, a small light comes into view. It’s dim, reminding me of a nightlight.

My breathing becomes chaotic as I take the last step, the click of my heels giving my presence away even more. At first I don’t see anything. The light shines on small things that are stored down here. Baskets. Buckets. Towels. Boxes stacked in the corner. Garden tools and hoses. The built-in shelves carry over to a darker corner, cutting off all access of light there.

“Please,” I hear the voice croak, and I gasp.

I stop where I stand, knowing this isn’t a good idea. Someone’s here. Someone I probably don’t want to see. What Draco does to people isn’t my business anymore. He handles people his own way for a reason. I don’t need to interfere . . . well, that’s what I tell myself, but I don’t turn back.

“Please,” the crackly voice calls again. “Water. Anything. Please.”

That voice. It’s so familiar. My eyes narrow. I walk to the shelf to pick up the LED lantern at the top. When I switch it on, it illuminates the dark corner.

I’m in a basement, but not the same one Draco killed Kevin in. This one is smaller, the air dryer.

But that’s not what surprises me.

What surprises me most is seeing the man sitting against the wall, wrapped up in chains. As I remember, he has no arms. But now, he has no clothes either. He is completely naked and even skinnier than he was before. His lips are cracked beyond anything I’ve ever seen, and his face is bruised, eyes blackened, hair a damp, sweaty mess.

I wince at the sight of him, my heart dropping.

“Oh my God! Ronaldo!” I whisper, rushing his way. I drop to my knees in front of him. He looks horrible. The chains are wrapped up so tight on his body that they seem to be squeezing the air from his lungs. “What are you doing down here? What happened? I thought you were dead!”

His head moves from side to side. I can tell it hurts to talk, to move his damaged lips at all. “The Jefe . . . is what happened. That fucking jackass.”

I sigh. At least he still has his wits about him. “Why is he torturing you again?”

“He assumes I know something.” He swallows hard, in pain. “Shit.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip. “Water? Over there.”

I pick up the lantern and look in the direction he’s looking in. I keep looking, stretching my arm out so the light can fill the dark spaces, and that’s when I see the cases of purified water against the far wall.

“He leaves it there so that I can see it. Beg for a drop,” Ronaldo rasps.

I mesh my lips together, pushing up and walking to them. Taking a bottle out, I rush back for him, set the lantern down, and then twist the lid off.

“Here.” I bring his body forward and he groans in agony, but doesn’t resist. “Open your mouth.”

When he opens it, I pour the water in. He doesn’t stop drinking until the entire bottle is empty.

“Fuck, I needed that.” He slouches back again and I put the cap back on the bottle. He looks me over thoroughly in my cocktail dress. “I see you did what I said. You made the king notice you.” He smirks.

I shrug. “I did what I had to do to survive here.”

“I hear them talk about you. La Patrona,” he mocks. “How did you gain such a solid position here?”

I look down, studying my red toenails. “Long story.”

His smirk fades and his eyes grow a few shades darker. “You have to get me out of here.”

“I’m not even supposed to be down here.”

“You promised,” he grounds out.

“I know I did, but it’s not that easy. This is the first night where none of them are on my ass. He’s starting to trust me. I can’t break that. I’ve been trying to think of ways—hoping to convince him to let you go. I thought you were in the shed but when I didn’t see you that day—”

“They took me out of there when they brought that white-haired guard and his whore in. Brought me here. What are they in there for?”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “They aren’t in there anymore.”

He frowns a bit, and when realization hits him, he sighs. “Shit. Dead?”

“Yeah.” I look him over again. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Toni? He’s your cousin, and in the shed, when we first met, you acted like you didn’t know him at all.”

His mouth twitches. “I didn’t trust you.”

“Do you now?”

“Well, seeing as you’re the only person that can get me the fuck out of here, I guess I have no choice, huh?”

“Why should I break you out?” I stand, picking up the lantern. “I mean, you did lie to me. I’m on good terms with the boss. You knew Toni—knew exactly how he was. What else do you know?”

“I don’t know shit,” he spits out. “All I know is that Toni was fucking stupid for crossing The Jefe. He shouldn’t have gotten so goddamn cocky. He brought whatever happened to him on himself.”

When his eyes glisten, I ease up on my temper, but not completely. “Did you . . . did you know he killed my father?”

When I ask that, his eyebrows shoot up, as if he’s really shocked to hear it. “Lion?”

“You know that name too?”

“Of course I do. He’s the reason I’m even here, in Mexico. He gave me the job, to look after The Jefe. To watch him and make reports, make sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid. I never understood why he had me tailing him, but I wasn’t going to ask questions. He paid me too well for that.”

“But you got caught.”

He looks away.

“That doesn’t explain why he still has you here and is doing this to you.” I gesture to him. “What does he want to know?” He doesn’t speak. He keeps his gaze away, focusing on the shelves above. I frown down at him, taking a step back. “I’m not even supposed to be down here, Henry, so you better start fucking talking or I’ll leave you down here to rot.”

When I take another step away, he panics, his only chance at survival slipping away. “Shit—fine! He thinks I work for someone named Hernandez.”

“Why?”

“He saw some old pictures on my camera of me with that crew but I don’t work with them. I don’t care about that stupid fucking wannabe cartel—hell, I didn’t even know they were organized for that shit. I was with them one night at a fucking bar, hung out at their penthouse because they invited me, and that’s it. I got drunk, got lots of pussy that night, and went back to watching Draco Molina. I never even met anyone named Hernandez. I went back to doing my fucking job. He caught me a week later, saw the photos I took with them, and thinks I’m one of them too. I’m not with them. I don’t know shit about them, all right? I don’t know what plans they have or what they’re trying to fucking do. I don’t know anyone by the fucking name of Thiago either, so I wish he would stop asking me that shit!”

“Shh!” I hiss. “Keep your voice down. I’m not even supposed to be down here—let alone walking around freely. They’ll notice I’m gone soon.” I release a thick breath, lowering to a squat. The LED light causes his eyes to glisten. I can’t tell if his tears are from rage, fear, or both.

“Do you swear?” I ask. “Because if I find a way to get you out, I have to be sure. He will threaten me for it, maybe even punish me, but he won’t kill me. That I know for sure.”

“What makes you so sure?” he grumbles.

“Because my father promised me to him a long time ago. Another reason he hates Toni.”

Ronaldo scoffs, dropping the back of his head on the wall. “I just want to be free, Gia. I want to live my life. I don’t care about Toni or Draco Molina. I will run to the ends of the earth if I have to. I will hide for as long as I need to. I don’t care as long as I get the fuck out of here. I won’t tell anyone where the hell I’ve been or anything. I just want to be free. I’m tired of being tortured for something I didn’t even do. Can’t you see what that motherfucker has done to me? He won’t stop until there is nothing left of me but my head. I can’t take anymore. I’m being punished for nothing, and he’s so fucking paranoid that he doesn’t believe me. He probably knows it too, that I don’t know shit about what’s going on, but he doesn’t care. He wants someone to take his anger out on.”

“He has every right to be paranoid,” I whisper, recalling that conversation with Thiago, how sure of himself he was. And now me. Down here with a man he believes is another enemy.

I run my fingers through my hair, glancing over my shoulder at the steps behind me, and then focusing on the shelves above. There is a kettle up there, a hand shovel, and a large pair of pliers.

Holy shit. Perfect.

I stand up and hurry for the pliers, taking them down by the handles and going back for him.

“I’m risking my life by doing this,” I murmur, bringing them down and squeezing one of the chains. It pops and I hear Ronaldo release a ragged breath of relief. “But no matter what Draco thinks, I believe you. Daddy trusted you to look after Draco for a reason. I’m going to stick with my gut and believe it’s because he knows you wouldn’t have betrayed him . . . not like Toni did. Plus Daddy obviously didn’t want Draco dead. He was keeping tabs on him for a reason . . . until he died.”

He scowls. “I’m nothing like Trigger Toni. He betrays anyone he meets. It’s why I never wanted to work for him.”

“You have a smart-ass mouth like him.”

He chortles.

“There’s a party going on tonight. Most of the guards are drinking so they’ll be slacking a little. I can’t help you get out of here. You’re on your own with that. I will do my best to keep Draco occupied. There’s a library right across the hallway. You can get out through the window. None of the guards should bother you tonight but you have to be gone by morning if you want to make it out alive.”

“You’re putting your head on a platter for me,” he says.

“Yeah.” I grunt, squeezing the handles. “A thank you would be nice.”

His mouth twitches when I pop the last chain. “Thank you.”

There is something about his gratitude that makes the heart I thought had frozen solid, fill with warmth again. I don’t know why, but I believe him. I really do. I don’t think he has anything to do with this Hernandez person. Toni never mentioned anyone by that name while I was with him and neither did Daddy.

Draco is just so consumed by his own paranoia that he feels he can’t trust anyone that even spent time in the same room as this person. I guess I don’t blame him. He didn’t become who he is overnight. He worked for his title. He has to be cautious. But sometimes being too cautious and too prideful can make a person foolish and reckless. It can cause innocent people to lose their lives.

“You defy him, and he likes that,” Ronaldo says when I put the pliers back. He shakes his body a little, loosening his joints and allowing the rest of the chains to fall off. There are red marks on his skin, chain patterns. “It’s why you’re in the position you’re in now.”

“He’s making up for his wrongs. I’m only being myself,” I tell him, picking the lantern up.

He grins. “Are you? Or is everything so normal and boring right now that you’re hoping he actually does something to you when he finds out what you’ve done? He’s spoiling you. Pampering you. He fucks you good, I’m sure. I can tell by the way you speak about him. So highly, like you owe him or something. But you want the old him back. The brutal one. The one that tossed you around and made a fool out of you. That’s the kind of man you want—the kind of man you crave so that you can have a reason to fight back or even kill him if it comes down to it. You’re just too afraid to accept that godawful truth.”

My eyebrows stitch together. What the hell is he talking about? He doesn’t know shit about me. Before I can speak on what he’s just said, I hear voices growing louder. Someone’s coming down the corridor. I listen harder and it’s one of the guards, shouting at another

“Shit.” I hurry to the steps, listening to the guards speaking rapidly in their native language. “They’re about to do a perimeter check. Draco will come looking for me soon. I have to go.” I shut off the lantern, putting it back in its place. “Tonight is your only chance to get out,” I whisper-hiss. “Wait for about thirty minutes. You better make it count, and you better run as far and as fast as you can. I would wish you good luck, but luck doesn’t seem to be on your side much right now.”

He chuckles dryly. “Luck is probably the only reason I’m still breathing, Gia.”

I purse my lips and rush up the steps. I grip the doorknob, the voices becoming distant. Good. They aren’t coming downstairs yet. I have time to make it back and pretend I’m coming from the library.

I hurry out, pulling the key from the lock and placing it above the banister again. I purposely leave the door unlocked, my heart beating a mile a minute. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I hope that I’m right. I hope that Henry gets out and he gets somewhere safe.

I’m not sure if the part of me that feels guilty is the part that still cares for Toni or for Daddy. What Toni did—it was wrong. Unforgivable. But it doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring about him altogether. I remember everything I shared with him. Every moment with him felt like bliss, but that bliss has become shadowed by the troubling truth.

I don’t know how Henry will escape without arms. Maybe he won’t at all, but at least I tried. If he’s caught, it will be his own fault. My conscious is clear and my promise to him has been fulfilled. I did my part. He is on his own now.

Giving a thorough look around the hallway, I turn around and make way for the marble staircase. I get halfway down the hall before Patanza appears ahead of me, shouting, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Bathroom,” I shout back, pretending to adjust my gown.

I enter the dining room with her again. The music is still playing and Draco and Simon are still downing shots of tequila.

He spots me, head cocking. “Where is my mother?” he asks when I’m close.

“She’s tired.” I take the seat beside him. “She went to bed.”

“Oh.” He tosses his shot back, not even wincing as he slams the cup down. “Did she say if she had a good time or not?” he asks me, leaning back and planting his elbows on the arms of his chair. He runs his thumb over the skull ring on his pinky finger.

“Yeah. She said it was a good night,” I respond.

He nods and then stands, grabbing my hand. “Good. Let’s go.” I stand with him and we leave the dining room. But as we walk out, I look down the hallway, feeling my chest tighten. As we walk up the stairs to get to Draco’s bedroom, Henry’s last remark really gets to my head.

It rings.

Chimes.

Echoes.

“Are you? Or is everything so normal and boring right now that you’re hoping he actually does something to you when he finds out what you’ve done? He’s spoiling you. Pampering you. He fucks you good, I’m sure. I can tell by the way you speak about him. So highly, like you owe him or something. But you want the old him back. The brutal one. The one that tossed you around and made a fool out of you. That’s the kind of man you want—the kind of man you crave so that you can have a reason to fight back or even kill him if it comes down to it. You’re just too afraid to accept that godawful truth.”

Am I bored?

Am I stupid?

Am I both?

Perhaps it’s not about the promise I made to Ronaldo. Maybe it’s something much deeper than even I want to begin to understand.

But for now I can’t think much about it. My back lands on the soft bed. His lips drop down to my neck and he sucks on my skin, trailing down, kissing each breast while his hands shove my dress up.

Fingers wrap around the waistband of my panties, tugging down. His mouth moves south, lower, lower, lower, until his face is centered between my thighs.

I can still hear the music—the guests partying and laughing.

Warmth coats my sacred area, swirling on my clit. His tongue plunges in and out of me, his hand resting on my belly to hold me still before I can wriggle.

I gasp, threading my fingers through his thick hair, looking down into his hot eyes. “Fucking mine,” I hear him growl and he wastes no time finishing me off.

I sink into this abyss of pleasure, allowing him to do what he wants with me.

I have to enjoy this now because I’ve just done something I shouldn’t have.

I’ve betrayed him.

And if I know Draco, betrayal is something he doesn’t take lightly at all.

He will punish me for this when he finds out the truth, and the sad thing is, I’m ready for it.

I’m ready for all he has to give me.