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But Cristiano had fed these doubts in my head. I’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t play with my mind just like Diego would. Neither brother was innocent.
“He’ll tell you I took your virginity to get back at him instead of the truth—I wanted one night with the woman I love. He’ll say I plotted against your family.” Diego was most handsome when he was pained—or acting like he was. His eyebrows met, wrinkling his bronzed forehead as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Fuck. If Cristiano can kill your mom and convince Costa he didn’t—I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tried to pin that on me, too. Just like he blames me for all the hardships he endured after he had to flee from here.”
I had to look back out the window to keep from giving into him. With his serious, pouty frown and disheveled hair, still in the rumpled clothing he’d worn the day before, he was made to look tormented.
Cristiano had said, or insinuated, some of the things Diego accused him of. I doubted Diego’s words now more than ever, but that didn’t mean I trusted Cristiano, either. Who could I believe? At this point, I couldn’t even put my fate in my father’s hands.
“Cristiano said Papá and I were never in true danger—that he was willing to make a deal with the Maldonados so only you would pay the price.”
“Of course he did. A convenient lie.” Diego didn’t even seem ruffled, as if he’d expected such a brash accusation by his brother. He approached my back. He gathered my hair in a hand and moved it over my shoulder before running a knuckle down my spine. “Please turn around. We don’t have much time together, and I don’t want to waste a moment not looking at you.”
I closed my eyes. “Don’t touch me.”
“I have a plan.”
I hadn’t known I’d been expecting those words until he voiced them. I glanced at the ground, inhaling and exhaling through my nose. Diego had a plan—sure. But for long had it already been in play?
I suspected Cristiano would tell me it was time to join the game if I had any chance at winning. Diego’s deception stung worse because I’d loved and had planned a future with him, but I had to recognize that things had changed. I could mourn the loss of him another time. Now, I needed to get my emotions in check, or else they’d consume me, and I’d never get my freedom back—from any of them.
I turned to meet Diego’s soulful green eyes. “There’s my girl,” he said, smiling as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened. He took my hands, slouching as he studied them.
This time, I didn’t pull away. If Diego was as smart, cunning, and patient as Cristiano made him out to be, then he likely had either knowledge or a plan that could help me dissolve this marriage. Whether that meant finding a way to get Cristiano to lose interest in me or bringing him down from the inside, there had to be a way out.
Diego ran a thumb over my wedding ring. “It was my mother’s.”
I drew back. I’d assumed it was meaningless. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m surprised he kept it.” He frowned. “It means nothing to him, and it has no real value to a man of his wealth.”
“Maybe it’s sentimental,” I said.
Diego squeezed his hands around mine. “He had her killed. I prayed to her, to Bianca, to my dead ancestors to keep you safe from him.” He clenched his jaw. “My prayers have been answered. You remain mine. Your heart, soul, and body.”
I wasn’t his. Not anymore. It hurt for me to admit that, but his betrayal had been too thorough. It was also liberating in a way. I had only myself to look out for now. “Belonging to Cristiano leaves no room for anyone else,” I said. “You must know your brother has a possessive side.”
“But you are mine, first and always. It’s written right here on my body.” Diego shifted our grip to expose his small tattoo, our initials along the inside of his ring finger. “You’re what I want, Tali. Try to hold my brother off. Make sure he knows you don’t want to sleep with him, and he’ll keep his distance.”
“What do you think I’ve done?” I asked, slipping my hands from his. “Begged him for it?”
Except, I had. And I might’ve rubbed it in Diego’s face if I wasn’t so ashamed of it. That not only had I begged for my life, but also for a man who’d traded me, who’d used me.
But worst of all, I had fallen into Cristiano’s kiss. Nearly melted at his touch. And then begged for his destruction. His desire had incited my own.
I’d felt Cristiano’s carnal need against me more than once, and it was undeniable. Diego might think Cristiano would wait, but there was a line, and Cristiano would cross it. The question was who would be in control when he did—him or me?
