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“You promised Carmen that you’d bring Marisol safely back to her,” he reminded me silkily. “You made an oath to me that you would ensure no one would harm her.
“Don’t bother lying to me about what you’ve been doing with her. If you’ve been keeping Marisol in secret, it’s not difficult to guess why.” He paused again, and I could practically hear him seething. “Carmen will not be happy about this. She will want you to pay. She’ll want to get Marisol away from you immediately.”
“You’ll have to kill me if you want to take her.” I spoke the flat, absolute truth. Traitor or not, I wouldn’t let Marisol go.
Before, I’d wanted her sweetness and tenderness.
Now, I wanted her suffering. I wanted her delicious body that she’d denied me for so long. She’d toyed with me, drawing out my torment.
She would not escape my wrath.
“So, are you going to kill me, or not?” I snapped when Stefano didn’t reply right away.
“No. I’m not going to kill you.” This wasn’t a reassurance; it was a judgment. He didn’t bother to explain his reasoning, no doubt withholding it from me intentionally to keep me on edge. “But I won’t be able to tell Carmen about this. If I did, she wouldn’t stop until Marisol was safely returned to her protection. You are making me lie to my queen.”
It was an unspoken declaration of my debt. One day, he’d call on me to repay him, and he might ask me to do something I didn’t want to do.
I shoved the potential fallout from my mind. At least our conflict had been pushed to a later date. For the foreseeable future, I would have Marisol all to myself. Trapped for my retribution and my pleasure.
The awful truth was that my lost little lamb had always been a venomous snake. She would pay for trying to poison me.
Chapter 21
Marisol
The front door slammed so hard that it sent a shockwave throughout the entire house. A flash of Gehovany kicking down the door to my family home sent a pulse of remembered terror through my body. My stomach flipped, and I pressed myself deeper into the corner, wrapping my arms around my middle as my knees went rubbery. I sank to the floor, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible.
Boom! A heavy body smashed into the locked bedroom door. I’d barricaded myself in the room that comforted me most—the room where Raúl’s earthy, calming scent was strongest.
I didn’t know what threat had arrived at his gates, but he’d been nearly out of his mind with rage and panic when he’d run off to face it. He’d ordered me to stay inside the house, and I’d protected myself as best I could, following his snarled command.
A second boom of a massive form colliding with the locked door drew a whimper from my chest.
My mother’s dark eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. The blooming, crimson flower staining her yellow dress.
A feral roar rent the air, punctuated by the door splintering around the hinges.
Although the beastly sound should’ve struck terror in my heart, I recognized Raúl’s fierce shout.
My hands dropped from where they’d covered my face, reaching for my savior.
His rough-hewn features twisted in a savage snarl, and his thick fingers bit into my upper arms as he yanked me to my feet. He crushed me to his chest, but there was nothing tender about his embrace. And icy knife scraped down my spine when I registered the hard flash of light over his opaque jade eyes.
Instinctively, I cringed away from the monster who trapped me in his immensely strong grip. He jerked me closer, wrapping iron bands around my chest. His white teeth flashed, snapping together a mere inch from my lips.
“Wh-what’s happening?” I squeaked. “What’s wrong?”
He snarled in my face, his heated, heavy breaths burning my cheeks. “What’s happening?” he echoed me on a hiss. “You betrayed me!”
“No!” I gasped. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t betray you, Raúl. Please, tell me what’s happening. I don’t understand why you’re—”
“Stop lying!” he bellowed. The fine lines around his eyes drew deep with anguish, and the scar on his lip turned stark white as his mouth twisted in a fearsome scowl. “Do not lie to me.” His voice dropped lower, a seething warning. “You will only make things so much worse for yourself.”
My insides turned to jelly, but I managed to muster up the courage to reach for his face. When he was enraged like this, my tender touch calmed him. This rabid fury was a defensive wall around his true feelings: pain and fear.
Before I could make contact, his fingers flexed into my upper arms, digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise.
“Do not touch me.” He bit out each word. “From now on, I touch you. However and whenever I want. And how I want to touch you right now will have you begging for mercy.” His face lowered, until his forehead nearly rested on mine. “You will suffer, Marisol.”
