“Alright. Fine. Apology accepted.”
“You want to play this game?” I don’t miss the thinly veiled threat in his voice.
“I’m not playing any game,” I tell him. “I don’t know what you planned on accomplishing tonight, but if it was to apologize, congratulations. You’ve done it. I accept. You can go now knowing that all is forgiven and your conscience is clear.”
His jaw tightens, and the next thing I know, he’s hoisting me over his shoulder and stalking out of the club.
Blood rushes to my face. “What are you doing?” I all but screech. My hands press against his lower back, and I struggle to steady myself as he walks with purpose out of the club.
Three men close rank behind him. One is the same man who earlier blocked my escape, and it’s his stony expression I meet while fighting to shove my hair out of my face. He has to be one of Andres’s brothers. The resemblance is too close not to be. From what I remember, Andres has three brothers. All younger. But the man in front of me looks close to the same age as Andres, so this must be — “Adrian!”
His brows rise.
Yep. This is the oldest of Andres’s baby brothers.
“You know this is a bad idea. Get him to put me down.”
His mouth tightens, and he looks away, saying nothing. I thought he was supposed to be the level-headed one in the family. Why then is he letting his brother all but kidnap me in the middle of enemy territory?
“Andres!” I snarl. “Put me down.”
His only response is to pat my ass, making my vision go red.
Fuck this and fuck him. I am not some sack of potatoes for him to haul around however he pleases.
“I swear to god, Andres. If you don’t put me down right this instant, I will —”
“You’ll what?” he deadpans as he steps through the club’s doors. The cool night breeze kisses the backs of my thighs and I push harder against his lower back, levering myself enough to see a black SUV pull up where Andres has stopped on the curb. The door to the club closes behind us, blocking out the noise, and a man rolls down the window, signaling for Andres and his men to get in.
Oh no. Hell no.
I hear the doors open just as powerful hands grip my waist. Andres lowers my feet to the ground, keeping me close as I slide down the hard planes of his chest. My body is flush with his, but as soon as he releases me, I jerk my arm back and swing.
Slap.
His face jerks to the side with the force of the blow, and a red imprint blooms across his jaw. Everyone freezes. The tension in the air thickens with growing hostility, and I know everyone is waiting to see what Andres will do. How he’ll respond to the offense, but not me.
“You have no right—“
“I have every right,” he snarls. “You are mine, Leticia Castro.”
His eyes are blazing, and for the first time since the day our paths first crossed, a trickle of fear slithers down my spine at what he might do next.
“Or did I not make myself clear?” Andres crowds me, using his size and strength to herd me backward toward the vehicle. “You are to be my wife.”
WHAT?!
“Giving me every right to do whatever the hell I please where you are concerned. Now get in the car.”
My mouth twists.
“Now!”
7
ANDRES
My cheek stings from the slap Leticia delivered only moments ago. I didn’t know she had it in her. A sense of pride blooms inside my chest. These years apart have not broken her. If anything, they’ve made her stronger. Good. I was worried before, but it looks like I didn’t need to be.
