As usual, we ate a large breakfast in the dining room. Mrs. Molina was there, and she seemed more upbeat than usual. I couldn’t figure out why, until I saw Thiago walking around the mansion.

He wasn’t cuffed or being dragged around. He was roaming at his own free will, with two guards trailing him.

Seeing him was strange. His face was bruised, lip busted, and nose broken, most likely from Draco’s wrath. I felt him look into the dining room as we ate. He stared right at Draco for a split second, and Draco glared right back. Of course Thiago pulled his gaze away first.

Their silent battle was interesting.

“I have some business to handle,” Draco announces when we’re back in his bedroom. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

“Okay.” I sighed, sitting on the bottom edge of the bed. “I’m sure I can find something to do to occupy myself.”

“What do you like to do?” he asks, like he’s really curious. “Your hobbies?”

“I used to write a lot. Most times just in my journal. I made up my own romance stories here and there. They were all so sappy and cheesy.” I shrug, taking off my earrings. “I kind of miss it—writing, I mean.”

“There is a library downstairs, across from my galería. There are a lot of books in there, though most of them are in Spanish. My mother loves to read. She used to spend all her time there. She hasn’t been in there in a while, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you using it. There’s paper, pens—whatever you might need to write.”

“What about a laptop or a computer? I typed a lot, too. I liked seeing the words on screen and then printing it off. Made it feel kind of real.” I flash a small smile.

His jaw slightly ticks. “If I give you a laptop, it won’t have any sort of connection to the internet.” His voice is gruff and firm. “Anyone could hack the system and find out where I am. I’ve been in and out of this home for years with no problems. Never been caught here because I keep most technology at bay. I don’t trust computers.”

“I don’t need the internet to write,” I laugh, even more so because I’m sure that’s not the only reason why he doesn’t want me to have a connection to the Internet. It would be way too easy for me to just log into some form of social media and post where I am—who I am. To snap photos to show proof and have someone come for me.

I could, but I’m not sure I see the point anymore.

I can’t face Toni’s family or his men after knowing what he did to my father—to Draco’s father. I can’t look into his mother’s eyes knowing she raised a monster that was much worse than I had ever imagined—than she’d ever imagined.

I would blame her for something she didn’t even know about. I would feel like a fool. All of us would. Perhaps she’s better off not knowing what he really was.

I should consider myself lucky that Draco took him out, but a part of me still doesn’t believe Toni could do that. Maybe it’s just my heart speaking, still remembering the times when we were happy. Trying to ignore the times when I really thought I hated him.

Draco presses his lips, observing me when the silence surrounds us. He’s been doing a lot of that lately—well, ever since taking me to the brown shed. “I will have Patanza bring you something.” He finally pulls his gaze away, taking down his pocketknife and the brass knuckles from the weapon wall.

“What are you going to do with that?” I nod at the weapons he has in hand.

Glancing sideways at me, he slides the knife in his front pocket and the brass knuckles in the shirt pocket. “You would like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

I quirk a brow. “Just curious.”

“Going to do a few things today. Handle business. These aren’t the only weapons I’ll be bringing. The rest are in the SUV.”

“The rest? How many?” I inquire.

“I’ve lost count,” he chuckles.

I laugh a little. “I remember Daddy promising to get me my own purse gun and one for the glove compartment of my car. Granted, I hardly ever drove my car because Daddy wanted me to ride with his driver—he had bulletproof windows—but whenever I did, I remember him having someone tail me. He always had someone watching me, and they always had way too many guns lying around.”

“And did he ever get you one?”

“No. Mom told him she’d chop his hand off if he dared.”

We both laugh out loud. It’s harmonious, his boisterous and genuine. Laughing this way with him feels strange. I haven’t laughed like this in a while. It feels good and wrong.

“She only wanted to protect me.” I stand from the bed and walk toward him, adjusting his collar. My eyes then shift up to his. “I would feel safer here if I had one.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“Why? So that one day, when you’re angry enough, you can shoot me through the back of mi cabeza?” My head.

“Draco,” I exhale. “I think if I wanted to kill you while you slept, I would have done it already.” I pull away from him. “You have guys like your cousin, Thiago, walking around and I don’t even want to know why, but I’m assuming it’s because of something your mother has said.” He shifts uncomfortably, pulling his gaze away. “I don’t trust him. And some of the guards—I don’t know. I know you rely on them, but I can’t trust them all either. The only one who treats me like a person is Patanza and even she can’t fully be trusted, because she feels indebted to you.”

“So you’re saying you don’t feel safe enough with me in charge?” he questions.

“No—it’s not that,” I respond quickly.

He raises a stern, serious brow, squaring his shoulders. “Then what is it?”

I open my mouth, but clamp it shut right away. I think of those days here—before he finally pulled his shit together and decided to treat me like a human. I was tossed around. Starved. Abused. Mistreated. He was supposed to be here that day when it all happened in the cellar, but he wasn’t.

“It’s nothing,” I murmur. “Just forget I brought it up.”

His eyebrows draw together, shoulders still tense, as he steps toward me. I sit back down on the edge of the bed, and he comes closer, closer, until his thigh is pressed on my knee. Bringing a hand down, he tilts my chin and looks me straight in the eyes. His whiskey irises don’t sparkle or shimmer. They are serious. Hard and dark again.

“You have to learn to trust me, Gianna,” he murmurs. “Trusting me is all you have. I won’t let that happen to you again.”

I cringe inside, pulling my gaze away.

He takes note of my silence, probably knowing I won’t speak on it anymore. “If getting you a gun will make you feel better, we will get you one. I’ll even let you pick it out yourself.” I pull my eyes up, and his have softened a touch.

“Seriously?”

“As long as you promise to never pull it on me, then it’s my word. When I’m back, we’ll discuss it.”

I feel my mouth twitch. I want to smile, but something is preventing it. Perhaps it’s because making that promise is one that I’m not sure I can keep. If something happens to me again because of him, I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it—living with this man. I’d blame him all over again.

I would try to run, he would try to stop me, and I know the only way I would be able to get through him is over his dead body. He would have to die.

He catches me off guard, pulling me from my thoughts by placing a warm kiss on the apple of my cheek. “I have to go. Patanza will be guarding the upstairs area. If you decide you want to go to the library, just let her know. She will show you where it is.”

I nod. “Okay.”

He pulls his fingers away from my chin and steps back. “I mean what I say, niñita. No one but me will ever touch you again. You will get whatever you want as long as you respect me. Everything you desire can be yours, just as long as you are mine. Remember that, mi reina.”

“Of course,” I murmur. He walks to the door, glancing back once before finally disappearing. When it’s shut behind him, I remain still, listening to his footsteps drift down the hallway. “How could I ever forget that?”

* * *

Draco returns when the sun is perched on the horizon.

The etching of my pen on the paper drowns out all sounds. It’s the only thing I can focus on, until I hear a throat clear to my left. I glance sideways, stopping the flow of my words. The first few buttons near his collar are undone, his hair not as sleek as it was when he left. It’s messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it.

He looks aggravated. On edge.

I drop the pen, peering up at him as he leans against the frame of the library door. “I take it you like it in here,” he says as I sit back in my seat. “Patanza says you’ve been in here all day.”

“I have. It’s peaceful.” I point to the window to my left. It’s arched at the top, a floor-to-ceiling window. The sunset is beautiful, its warm glow showering the oblong library. The books are all tucked away in alphabetical order. They are mostly romance novels and, like Draco said, all written in Spanish. No matter. I will still read them.

The wooden beams above give the library so much height and depth, matching the mahogany floorboards. A spiral staircase leads up to an open second floor, consisting of even more books, some of the shelves filled with antiques. A day bed with a brown headboard is set up in front of the window up there as well, decked with gold and white pillows. It looks comfortable enough to read and even sleep on, but I can tell most of this furniture hasn’t been broken in.

Down here where I am, there is a large curved desk full of all the supplies I need, recliners, and a coffee station set up in the corner.

“How was it today?” I ask when he shifts on his feet. He’s quiet. Somber.

He releases a heavy sigh. “Rough. Don’t want to think about.”

I pause, thinking of a proper response. “Do you need to talk about it?”

Walking closer, he plants his knuckles on the desk, still standing on the opposite side. His hair tumbles onto his forehead, curtaining his whiskey eyes. He focuses on me, lips mashing together.

“Draco?” I call when he pulls his hard gaze away and looks out the window.

“Tell me about your day,” he commands with a gentle voice. “What are you writing about?” He drops his line of sight to my paper, but I sit forward, covering most of the words with my elbow. His mouth twitches when he meets my eyes again.

“I don’t like to share what I’m working on so soon,” I tell him. “It’s still a work in progress.”

“A love story?”

“Hmm . . . no. Not really.”

“Figuring out ways to take me down?” When he says that, I can see the spark and challenge in his eyes, his mouth forming into a subtle smile.

I return a smirk. “If you don’t trust me, why do you even let me sleep with you?” I ask, flipping the paper over and then folding my arms, leaning back in my seat.

“I never said I don’t trust you.” He pulls up, spine stacking.

“You act like you don’t.”

“I don’t trust you away from me,” he says, and he walks toward the door. “Which is why we’ll be spending the rest of the night together in the pool, like I promised. Let’s go back to the room and change clothes.” He turns halfway, extending his arm, gesturing for me to join him.

“You’re serious?” I smile a bit, standing from my chair and walking around it.

He bobs his head slightly when I take his hand. “I told the butlers to bring my favorite tequila out. I could use a few shots. Couldn’t you?”

I grin. “I really could.”

* * *

In less than fifteen minutes we’ve changed clothes and are heading to the pool.

“Why were you so upset when you got home?” I ask as Draco and I walk through the gates to get to the pool. He’s not wearing a shirt or any shoes. He has on black swimming trunks, his gold crucifix necklace resting on the center of his toned chest.

“What makes you think I was upset?” he questions, placing his towel down on one of the chairs. I place mine on the lounge chair beside his.

“You were tense.” I gather my hair up and tie it in a loose bun. “It’s kind of easy to tell when you’re pissed.”

He looks at the pool water, taking a step forward. A butler comes out with a tray in hand and on top of it sits a bottle of Don Julio and two shot glasses with red jewels embedded in them. They look real, like rubies.

Draco bobs his head, gesturing for him to place it down on the table beside me. The butler does just so, taking off with a bob of his head. Several guards are outside the iron gate beyond the pool, their backs facing us.

Draco steps over, grabbing the bottle of tequila and the glasses and bringing them to the pool. He takes the steps down to get into the water, placing everything on the edge of the pool.

“Get in,” he orders.

I step out of my flip-flops, moving forward and dipping my feet in the water. It’s cold enough to make me shiver, but I jump in anyway, plunging beneath the water and swimming toward him.

When I rise, I’m only a step away from him. His chin is tilted, his warm eyes on me. Reaching over, he pours a shot into each glass then picks one up, handing it to me.

I take it with wet hands and he goes for his next.

“You like to show off,” he murmurs.

I smile a little. “Only enough to grab your attention.”

His eyes flash down, scanning my breasts in my white bikini top. He raises his glass in the air and I do the same. “To new beginnings,” he says. With a bob of his head, he brings the rim to his lips and tosses it back without so much as a wince.

I down mine, getting a strong, fierce burn that immediately sweeps through my entire body. He pours me another and one for himself, taking it back again. I toss mine back and the burn floods my veins.

One more shot and he finally sets his glass and the bottle down.

I sigh. Tequila isn’t really my thing—especially not without a chaser. What can I say? I’m a wimp, and I’ve never been big on drinking hard liquor.

Approaching me, he grabs my waist and picks me up. I lock my legs around his waist and wrap my arms around his neck, relaxing them on his shoulders. His mouth immediately crushes mine, his fingers running up my spine and up to the nape of my neck. He reaches for my hairband and tugs it, causing my wet hair to tumble down around my shoulders.

“This business isn’t easy,” he murmurs.

“How so?”

“I had to have one of my men kill someone today. Someone I thought I could trust to handle some of my cash.”

“An accountant?” I tip my head back to look into his eyes.

He nods. “One of them.”

“How many do you have?”

“Three.”

“Why?”

“To make sure my numbers add up the same every time. Can’t trust just one.”

Makes sense.

“That man had a family. A daughter and a son. His wife does food-catering jobs, runs her own business. She lost a husband, and those kids lost a father, because he stole from me. If it had been less than five thousand, I would have let him off with a simple warning and slight punishment. But he took over fifty grand. His numbers weren’t adding up. I got news that someone said he bought a new house. He made it so obvious that I almost felt stupid for having him ended. He probably assumed I wouldn’t catch on. He was taking small chunks week by week.”

I drop my gaze to his chest. “Why didn’t you just lock him up or something, like you do everyone else?”

“Thought about it. I don’t enjoy killing, but when it comes to my reputation, it happens. Just so everyone knows not to try to fuck me over. I don’t take stealing my shit lightly—especially when it comes to my money. It’s a privilege to even get the chance to work with me.”

I sigh.

“I want to forget about it for now,” he says, looking at my lips.

“How?”

“Distract me.”

I smile and then pull away from him, my feet landing on the pool floor. Half-swimming, half-walking to the tequila, I pour another shot for us and hand him his glass.

When he takes it, I come closer, running my palm down his chest. I continue down, even when he tenses up, untying his trunks. My hand slips beneath his trunks and I cup his manhood in hand lightly, my lips landing on his jawline.

His breath streams out, tattered, hard.

“Distraction enough?” I ask, fondling, teasing.

“For now.” He drinks his shot and picks up the bottle of tequila again. Man, he never quits. “How many men have you slept with, niñita?”

“How many men have I slept with?” I repeat, pulling my hand from his swelling cock with a light scoff. I toss my tequila back, letting it ride down my throat and glide through my veins. “I was only with Toni, before you. He took my virginity. He was my first at a lot of things.”

I rest my elbows on the edge of the pool as he pours another shot for himself. I’m getting a bit of a buzz. I’m definitely tipsy. “So you’ve only been in bed with two men?”

“Well, if oral counts, two men and a woman.” I don’t know why I say that. I should feel embarrassed or hate the thought of when Francesca ate me out, but I don’t, and when he realizes that I don’t, he flashes a crooked smile.

He circles the rim of his glass, watching me with heated eyes. “You think I regret making her do that to you?”

I laugh, swimming backwards. “Not at all, actually.”

“Good. Because I don’t.” He brings the glass up to his lips and chugs it down. After letting out a sharp gasp and putting the glass in its rightful place, he swims my way, collecting me in his arms and pinning his body to mine. “Making her do that showed me what you really are.”

“And what am I?” I challenge, feeling the liquor settling in now, boosting my confidence.

His face comes closer, full lips hovering above mine. He wraps his large hands around my waist and hoists me up. I ease my legs around his torso, arms slinking over his broad, wet shoulders.

“You’re a freak,” he rasps on my mouth, warm breath trickling over my damp skin. “You’ve always wanted to try something with a woman. It was a fantasy, I could tell. That’s why you didn’t fight back.”

“I didn’t fight back because you threatened me,” I laugh.

“No, niñita.” His chuckle is deep, sensual. “If I’m recalling that day correctly, you spread those legs good and wide for her and you moaned even louder when I forced her deeper. You couldn’t control yourself. And, fuck, seeing you like that made me so goddamn hard. Seeing how wet your pussy was—feeling it after she was finished . . . shit.” He swallows hard, and I can feel him growing harder, his cock pressing on my leg. “I may have spoken, but I had no real words to say to you at the time. You’re a naughty girl, but you play innocent. Every time we fuck, you reveal a glimpse of that naughty side. Every time my cock is buried deep inside you, I’m shedding a layer of that innocence away, exposing you for what you really are. A freak. And not just any freak. My freak.”

My breath goes unkempt as I feel his fingers slowly rolling my bottoms down. His mouth is still hovering over mine, only a hairs breadth away. I want to move, thrust or grind, but I can’t. I won’t make the first move.

But I do want him to kiss me. I want him to take me—fuck me in this pool relentlessly. I don’t care who hears or sees. I don’t care as long as I get the pleasure I’m aching for.

I don’t know why I want him so badly right now. It has to be the tequila. Only tequila gets me this way, desperate and hungry for more.

“Just say the words,” he murmurs, still peeling my bottoms off. “All you have to do is say it, mi reina, and it’s yours. Tell Jefe what you really want.”

I know exactly what he wants me to say. He knows how badly I want it.

“Jefe,” I pant, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Fuck me. Please. Right here. Por favor, Jefe.” Please, Jefe.

He lets out a low, quiet groan, my words his undoing. My bottoms are off in seconds, as well as his. We both release hard, heavy moans when our mouths finally connect, and when I feel his thickness thrust inside me, I pull my mouth away, gasping as my head falls back.

He grips the back of my neck with one hand, forcing me against the wall of the pool. His other hand is cupping my ass, his thrusts full and deep as he stares me right in the eyes—as he takes me like the boss he is.

The Jefe.

The one and only Jefe.

He doesn’t pull his eyes away for a second. He holds me tight on my ass and neck, watching as I willingly welcome it all, sighing with pleasure.

Bring his face closer, his tongue pushes through my lips, claiming, owning. I swirl mine with his, gluing our bodies, holding onto him as I feel the heat between my legs, building up for one momentous explosion.

“You are my freak,” he breathes into my mouth. “And it will be that way for a very, very long time, Gianna.”

I nod as the water sloshes and he brings his hands down, bouncing me up and down on his thick, long cock. I hold on tight, my mouth landing on his neck, sucking, tasting hints of chlorine and warm skin.

I’m wrapped up so tight around him, feeling my clit on his pelvis, so close to climaxing. He squeezes my ass harder in his big hands, bringing me up and down. I spot people walking from a distance, the guards at the wall. I don’t know if they’re watching and, frankly, I don’t give a shit. Neither does he.

All we care about is this.

The escape. The thrill.

Me owning him.

Him owning me.

My fingers slide through his damp hair, dragging down to his back, nails digging in. He lets out a small hiss, bringing me to the wall again, elbows planting outside my head. He’s still thrusting, my head falling back over the edge of the pool.

I open my eyes, staring up at the sky. It’s not completely dark. It’s the perfect violet color. The sun is somewhere close, but I can’t see it at this angle. And that’s okay because stars begin to fill my vision, tunneling in.

I imagine a violin playing. I imagine piercing blue eyes staring into brown ones.

Toni and Draco. A demon versus the devil.

Fighting for me.

I imagine what was and what is and, carelessly, I explode.

I squeeze my eyes so tight, holding on to him again, grinding on his hardness—on him—and I don’t let up, not even when I feel my body violently shaking.

Trembling.

My eyes feel damp, but I think it’s the pool water.

But it’s too hot to be pool water. Too hot.

My body feels just as heated.

Whimpers surround me. Darkness consumes me.

“Gianna,” a deep voice calls. It echoes in my brain, through every hollow, empty space.

I’m still trembling, but is it from the aftermath, or something else?

I can’t tell—that is until I hear water sloshing and realize Draco is carrying me out of the pool and my back has landed on a cushioned lounge chair. I look all around me, at the sky that’s still a silky purple, to the chair beside me, and then in front of me, at Draco.

His face is hard, as usual, but his eyes hold a trace of gentleness. He looks me all over before inhaling, then exhaling. His fingers thread through his damp hair, body going tense.

“What were you thinking about when you came?” he asks, voice low.

“I came?” I whisper.

“Yes. I felt you. Saw you.”

I pull my gaze away, looking out at the ocean through the thick, wrought iron gate. “I can’t remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He reaches forward, gripping my face in hand and forcing my eyes on his again. “Tell me.”

My lips quiver, eyes sliding down to his chest. “It was . . . Toni.”

He snatches his hand away and when I look up, he’s glaring. Hard. “What about him?”

“Not the good part of him. The bad. I was thinking about him and you. Comparing. You’re both . . . so brutal. So bad. And that’s what I’m drawn to. Like a magnet, I’m drawn and I can’t pull away, no matter how hard I try. It’s so fucking hard to fight it.” My head shakes swiftly. “There were many times when I saw Toni’s bad side, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt because that’s how badly I wanted him. And you,” I breathe, sitting forward. My head moves left to right as I become lost for words. “You are ten times worse than he was and yet . . . still . . . there is something about you I can’t pull away from. Despite the bad and all I’ve been through here, something about you lures me in. Dominance, brutality— it’s what I crave. It’s something I’ve craved my entire life.” My breath comes out shaky. “He killed both of our fathers, and if he was still here, and I knew that, I feel like I would still stay with him. I would have found a reason to forgive him, even the tiniest excuse, because I was that weak for him.” I tilt my gaze. “Does that make me stupid? Being weak for men like that?”

“Gianna, I—” I can tell he is confused. And I don’t blame him. Where is all of this coming from? What’s happening to me? I’m confusing myself. I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing anymore. Does he sense that? “No, it doesn’t make you stupid,” he finally responds. He hauls me over and plants me on his lap to face him. I wrap my legs around him and he grips the back of my head, bringing my forehead to his. “It makes you a Nicotera. Nicoteras are fearless and believe they can take on anything and anyone. They enjoy the challenge. You are fearless.” He strokes his thumb over my cheek, and that’s when I realize there are tears. Those were tears on my face while we were in the pool.

“You’re crying out of anger. You hate that he did it, I know. You’re trying to drown it out with the tequila, but it won’t work. The truth will always be there. You wanted to see the good in him, but he was no good for you.” I watch his eyes, how they soften for me when he speaks. “It had to happen that way. It is unfortunate, but I don’t regret anything except the fact that I wasn’t there to save your father myself. Had I known it was you he was marrying, I would have cut that shit off before you even fell for him.”

“I thought it was going to be a perfect day. One I would never forget,” I whisper, voice cracking.

“You will get plenty of perfect days with me, you understand?” He grips me tighter. “I will give you the world, Gianna, because you are mine, and you always have been. You just didn’t know it yet.”

I bob my head, silence consuming me for several seconds. “I’m sorry he did that to your dad.”

“Don’t stress about it.”

“If I knew his plans I never would have agreed to marry him.” Anger laces my voice now, just thinking of all the times he probably sat around, plotting ways to kill Daddy.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have. But it happened. It’s done. All we have is us and now. There is a target on both of our backs, so we might as well fucking live, niñita, hmm?” His mouth touches my cheek, a soft, damp kiss as he tips my chin. “You hear me?”

I nod, locking eyes with him. “Yes, Draco. I hear you.” I put on a subtle smile. “We live.”