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“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
I finally looked at her, meeting her earnest brown eyes. She didn’t appear tearful or distressed; she was resigned, bleak. This was our reality, and she had already learned the lesson many times over.
“I didn’t know you wanted to leave my estate,” I told her, desperate for absolution. “I thought I was protecting you. I know I was cold toward you, but I didn’t want anyone to think I cared about you. I still don’t want that. Do you understand? I need you to hate me.”
Her rosebud lips pinched, and she nodded grimly. “I do understand. And I can pretend to hate you. For both our sakes.” She gestured at my bandaged feet. “You should sit down. I’m sure that’s painful.”
“No,” I protested, wanting to atone for all the times I’d coolly ordered her to clean up after me. “I can help.”
She fixed me with a level stare. “If you’re going to pretend to be a cold bitch, you’ll have to try harder. Sit the fuck down.”
I managed a wan smile. “And if you’re going to pretend to be meekly accommodating, you’ll have to stop cursing at me.”
Her lips curved in a small, sad smile of her own. “I make no promises about when we’re in private. Seriously, sit down. I’ll work around you.”
She gestured at me impatiently as she wheeled a large, empty laundry hamper into the room. “Once I get these sheets stripped and ready to wash, I’ll get out of here. Duarte won’t see us interacting. I know better than to risk that. Your new clothes are in the closet.” She waved toward the closed door that I couldn’t reach. “There’s a second entrance on the other side. The closet is enormous. It’s obscene for a man to own so many clothes.”
A vindictive, mocking laugh bubbled from my chest. “Stefano is definitely vain.”
She paused, her delicate features dropping to something more serious. “Let him do what he wants. It hurts less.”
Ice wrapped around my heart, the frigid chill chasing my dark humor away. She understood men’s true natures all too well.
“He’s not forcing himself on me,” I admitted, trying to allay some of her worry. “That’s not how he operates.”
“He will eventually,” she countered with the cold fact. “All men do.”
“What about you?” I pressed. “He promised me that you would be protected. Has anyone touched you? If he hasn’t honored his word, I will make his life hell.”
Her brows rose. “And you aren’t already doing that?” She shook her head, knowing my answer. If she was being abused, there was nothing I could do about it now. “No one has touched me. That scary guy, Raúl…” She shivered. “He made it crystal clear that no man is to come near me.”
I decided it was best for her emotional state if I didn’t ask why Raúl frightened her. All that mattered was that he was enforcing Stefano’s promise to me.
Marisol was protected from further harm until I could get both of us out of here. We would have our freedom, and these evil men would pay.
Chapter 7
Stefano
“What exactly did that succubus to do you?” Arturo jibed, eyeing the bandage on my neck.
I leaned back in my leather armchair, taking up more space under the guise of relaxation amongst friends.
The sharks that surrounded me weren’t my friends. They were my allies, which I would take over friendship any day. Friendships necessitated emotional bonds, and I found that men who allowed their emotions to become involved in business relationships ended up making foolish decisions. I had no use for fools in my inner circle.
Despite my true feelings on the matter, I cultivated an air of jovial camaraderie. Other, weaker men were easily lured into altered states of mood by a celebratory atmosphere, and that made them more malleable. They let their defenses slip, leaving them open to either manipulation or elimination. Whichever the situation called for.
It seemed Arturo Flores might have fallen into the unfortunate delusion that we were friends, because he dared to make a cutting joke at my expense.
Feigning nonchalance, I waved away his incisive question. “Carmen is far from a succubus. Even sweet little kittens have claws, and they use them when they’re scared.”
Arturo’s teasing smile dropped, his brown eyes losing all pretense of humor. “You’re off your game.”
I kept my features arranged in a careful genial mask to conceal just how close Arturo was dancing with death. At least he’d waited until our enemies weren’t listening to begin this little challenge to my authority.
My closest associates and I were alone in the library for the first time in hours, since the tense string of meetings had begun this morning. The only reason we had a private moment now was because my final appointment was daring tardiness. That didn’t bode well.
It also didn’t bode well that Arturo had noticed my distraction throughout the day. My mind kept drifting back to Carmen, plotting how I would seduce my precious captive into submission.
