Page 59 of Secrets of the Six

Rogelio rings a tiny bell sitting on the end table beside him. "Our attendant will take our order momentarily."

I nod before allowing my shameless gaze to dart across the vast space and observe who else is in attendance this evening. Peeking through the archways of the private boxes I recognize Dons and Doñas from the ball and when they spot me, I dip my head and smile, before continuing to scan the room.

At the far end of the theatre, opposite the stage, is an enormous booth with what appears to be a throne. "Who does that booth belong to?"

Rogelio quickly glances in the direction I'm motioning before his vibrant smile fades to a somber forced one. "That is the Soberano's personal box. He doesn't frequent the theatre often, but when he does, he has the best view in the house."

His reaction has me puzzled. I understand Rogelio doesn't want anything to do with politics and has no interest in claiming his father's seat at the Soberano's table, but I believed it was due to his passion for the arts. Now, I'm beginning to question his feelings and support of the Soberano in general.

Rogelio and Remus are the same age – at twenty-five, both of them have the world at their fingertips and would remember just enough of the Mass Execution to have shaped their worldview. Remus lost everything that night. I wonder what Rogelio lost, or what he discovered, that turned him off to being the proud Murrieta heir.

"The Soberano funded the remodel?" I ask and he nods. "There is gold everywhere. He must be very wealthy, considering he used to be the Minister of the Saints."

His brows pinch together, and I fear I've overstepped, but instead of shutting me down or chastising my loose tongue, Rogelio says lowly, "There is talk the Soberano acquired his wealth by questionable means. I prefer not to ask my father about it because I fear my suspicions might be confirmed."

"What do you mean by that?" My interest is thoroughly piqued, spurring me to lean closer to him. "How do you think he filled his coffers?"

Fear suddenly fills his eyes, and he scoots away from me. "Forgive me, Elena. I think it best not to discuss such matters in public."

I want to press him further, knowing damn well I could convince him to spill all his secrets with one flirtatious touch, but my scheming is prematurely interrupted when our attendant slips inside our box.

"How can I be of service, Don Rogelio?" The male's voice sounds familiar but with him standing directly behind me, I don't want to make a spectacle of myself by turning around to get a glimpse.

"The lady and I would like some wine." Rogelio speaks for me, which I'm sure would please most women with his decisiveness, but the urge to order for myself rears its ugly head.

"Of course, Señor," the waiter sounds pleasant. "Would you prefer red or white?"

I can't help myself. I know his voice. I shift to look up at the attendant and suppress my surprise when I see Olli in a waiter's suit. He smiles down at me but acts as if he has no earthly idea who I am which propels me to compose myself enough to say, "I would like the red, please."

Rogelio smiles. "I'll have the same."

"Of course. Would you like an appetizer?"

As Olli and Rogelio go back and forth over food options, I tune them out, remembering Doña Otero ensured me I wouldn't be here alone. So, Olli is who she sends to protect me? No disrespect intended to Olli, but from his thin frame and lean arms, I would be more likely to protect him should danger arise.

Maybe his scrawniness is his greatest strength. He's plain but not unattractive. I would describe him as perfectly ordinary and forgettable despite his fiery red hair. People, including me, underestimate him, but he could very well be the most lethal man in the room. Brute strength doesn't make a cunning and elusive killer; intelligence and swiftness does.

Suddenly, I feel eyes on me, and I narrow my gaze to discreetly glare around the vast auditorium. I start with the general audience, but no one seems to be staring up toward us, all of them too excited in their chatting in anticipation for the show to begin.

My eyes scope out the remaining boxes. I'm unable to see who is seated in the boxes directly to my left, so I begin with the Soberano's empty booth and make my way around the opposite side of the auditorium. A couple rooms are empty, their patrons clearly loving a delayed entrance. But finally, my eyes settle on the box directly across from ours and spy a familiar face.

Remus – or rather Don Rafael – smirks at me, offering me a seductive finger wave that ignites butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

Perhaps, he is my true protector, and Olli is merely back up. Either way, it will be difficult to concentrate on flirting with Rogelio when in the back of my mind I'll be conscious of Remus' commanding and unapologetic presence. He is shameless in his blatant staring. If Rogelio catches us eyeing one another, he might get the wrong idea. Or the right one, but that would be extremely unfortunate for this scheme to work.

My heart suddenly lurches when a woman enters Remus' box and claims the chair beside him. Though she's grinning like a damned fool and talking his ear off, his eyes have not left mine once. I wonder if she's noticed.

I frown and peel my gaze from his. A twinge of jealousy sparks within my chest at the thought of his hands on another woman and I can't stomach to watch them interact. I refuse to be subjected to him any longer. If he's here to keep an eye on me, so be it. He can watch as I charm the pants off Rogelio Murrieta.

"Elena?" Rogelio's voice snaps me from my thoughts as Olli stands patiently waiting for me to grab my wine from his extended tray.

"Oh, thank you," I smile, grab the glass, and take a long sip.

Once Olli is clear of the room, Rogelio reaches for my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. "Is everything alright?"

"Forgive me, Rogelio," I say sweetly, ignoring the temptation to glance across the way at Remus and his lady friend. "I found myself momentarily overwhelmed. This theatre is breathtaking. I'm honored you brought me with you."

His ego sufficiently stroked, he beams, accepting whatever bullshit I spew as infallible. "I reacted the same way my first time." He gently lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. "And I'm happy to share this evening with you, Elena."