Page 139 of Damián

“When I was a kid, I used to spend hours playing in my father’s office, reading whatever books I could get my hands on. One day, I grabbed a black one, but it wasn’t a novel; it was a ledger. At first, it made no sense to me, but after understanding the numbers, I realized that while the individual figures were correct, the totals were deliberately off. Specific amounts were repeating every second Tuesday, paid out to a company I’d never heard of. Also, it looked like deposits were being transferred to other accounts just so the same money could be recycled.”

“You figured out he was laundering money?” Damián asks, his fingers curling through strands of my hair.

“Yes, but I had no idea what that meant at the time. I took the book to my dad and showed him what I’d found, thinking someone had just made a mistake, but he went completely quiet, just staring at me. Then he gave me a hypothetical problem: he said he needed to bring Ship A to Port B, but the ship couldn’t cross a specific line. I asked for a map, studied it, and told him his route was wrong. I showed him how to fix it…”

I lazily trace my fingers over his arm, where it rests across my waist.

“And he just kept staring at me,” I say. “The whole office was dead silent, and I thought he was going to be furious… But instead, he looked delighted, so happy, in a way I’d never before. He then started bragging to everyone in the room that his son was a fucking prodigy.”

I risk a glance at Damián, half-expecting him to look horrified or scared. But he is just watching me, listening to everything I say.

So I continue…

“After that day, my father started taking me to every country, every meeting, anywhere he went. He’d bring me along and ask me to solve problems for him. At first, it was fun. I was traveling the world, and I was making my dad proud. But one day, about a year after I started helping him, we were in a meeting in France, and one of his associates made him angry. My father took out his gun, shot the man in the head, and just continued the meeting.”

“Fuck…” Damián breathes.

“Yep. No one even flinched… So, after that, I stopped focusing on the numbers and researched everything I could about the routes until I found out what the cargo actually was. That’s when I realized I was helping them smuggle drugs, weapons, and… people.”

“Mi cielo…” Damián caresses my cheek. “You said you used to go there to play… How old were you when this happened?”

“I was thirteen.”

Damián’s eyes go wide with absolute horror.

“Yeah.” I chuckle, though it’s entirely devoid of humor. “Let’s just say my childhood ended that afternoon.”

“I read in your file that at the age of fourteen, you went to study in Switzerland. How did you get away?”

“I lied. I told my father I was too green for the real business, but that I could be an incredible asset to him if he sent me to boarding school. I told him I wanted to get a degree in Business with a master’s in International Logistics.”

“That was smart, nene.”

“It kept me away. I still had to help him from time to time, but I used my workload as an excuse to only take on the hardest cases. I also used that time to study computer science. I learned how to crack into his networks, pull the intel I needed, and use that information to make people disappear from my father’s kill lists. That’s how I met Zara. I saved her family, and after shipping them to safety, she stayed with me.”

“Until he called you to come back?” Damián interrupts gently.

“No, I came back on my own. Three years ago, Rafael went on a massive murder spree, trying to prove to my father that he had what it took to take over, and I knew he had to come back and remind my dad why he picked me in the first place. It was the only way I could keep Rafael on a leash.”

“Is that why you treat him the way you do?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, the only way to keep Rafael from gaining power and to keep my father proud is through a constant display of violence and humiliation.” I let out a breath, my fingers curling around his arm. “Are you angry I didn’t tell you the truth?”

“Not at all. Given your family, I completely understand why you had to be cautious. But… I do feel guilty.”

“Why would you feel guilty? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oliver, I kept shoving you against walls, grinding against you… Groping you,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I had known it was your first time—”

“I love the pushing and the groping,” I interrupt instantly, and my cheeks turn hot. “Please, for the love of God, do not let that stop.”

Damián laughs, leans down, and gives me a quick kiss. “I spent so many nights sick with jealousy, thinking you were out hooking up with other men.”

“Yeah… I thought about telling you my drug benders were fake, but I couldn’t exactly explain that over a text message right before going off the grid. I promise I’ll let you know if I have to stage any more.”

“Please do. And also if you can—Wait…” He pulls back slightly, narrowing his eyes. “So back at the club, when you said I was in your ‘top ten’… you lied?”

I bite my lip, completely unable to hide my smile. “I mean, you are number one… and only.” I look up at him through my eyelashes, shrugging innocently. “And number one is still technically in the top ten. So I didn’t lie.”