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He’s just as beautiful as the Devil, and just as deceitful.
“You took a long time,” he says when I approach. “I was about to come searching.”
“I’m here now. Just as you wanted.”
Taking me into his arms, completely unaware that his touch is like a knife twisting in my gut, he says, “Dance with me.”
I’m dying as slowly as the rhythm of the love song. My throat tightens as a sob lodges there, but I hold on to it, unwilling to show him how much more damage I’ve allowed him to do.
“Tell me again about the first time you asked me to marry you,” I murmur near his ear.
“I’ve already told you the story.”
“Yes, you have. So maybe I should tell it to you instead.” Tears well in my eyes as I look around at everyone enjoying themselves. All of the people that are obviously in on this lie because he owns them too. His cousin, the guards, the doctor. Everyone under his employ.
“All right,” he says, his tone stiff because I’m sure he senses something is very wrong by now.
“We’d just made love on a bed of lies,” I say. “You told me beautiful stories and I believed them because you’re the Devil, and that’s what you do. You lie beautifully.”
His arm tightens around my waist as he tugs me harder against his body. “Sonia.”
“I know. I know you made me believe I was your wife,” I hiss resentfully.
“Who told you?” His question comes out hard and laced with anger.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I clench my jaw at the sheer fury I feel at myself for crying. I wipe at them as I laugh. “It doesn’t matter how I found out. The point is, I did. You lied to me.”
“I had to. It was the only—”
“I don’t care why or how you managed it,” I cut him off. “Three months,” I whisper to myself as my head spins. “Three months.” Pulling away enough that I can peer into his eyes, I grind my teeth. “I want to leave.”
He glances over my shoulder, toward his men. “You can’t. The only thing keeping you alive is that we don’t know where your father is.”
Laughter erupts from me. Crazy, mad laughter. “And you thought I’d give away some secret location he might be hiding in. Oh my God!” I attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t let me go.
“Fernando Beltran has done things you’d kill him for yourself,” he growls. “He must pay.”
“Stop trying to cram anymore of your bullshit down my throat,” I seethe. “I’m done here.”
Once again, I attempt to pull away, but he stops me. “If you leave, my men will kill you.”
Grazing my lips against his, I murmur, “Then till death do us part.”
I move away, and this time, he does let me go. I turn my back to him and walk through the mass of dancers, then off the stage and to the main gate. The armed men there look at me strangely, and for a moment, I expect them to take out their guns and end me on the spot.
But instead, one of them opens the gate, allowing me to leave. Diego is waiting for me not far from the entrance, parked in the dark. I get into his car and shut the door.
“Get me away from here,” I say.
And without a single glance back at the hell the Devil convinced me is my home, we go.
