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“Wait…”
He’s gone before I can fully question him, not that I can find the voice to. In one go, he’s rattled so many of the fragile tenants of my life I’d been clinging to. Pedro. Franco. My soul. I feel battered irreparably, left to navigate the aftermath of a wild storm alone.
But I am not alone. I brought two innocent people along with me into this mess. Thinking of them now, I finally wash myself clean.
Focus, Pita.Jaguar thinks he’s startled me into submission, but he hasn’t. I’m not willing to lie down just yet. There is a way out of this mess. I just need to find it.
My first instinct is to rush downstairs still dripping wet—but I stop myself. With renewed determination, I rinse off and get dressed in the red ensemble Jaguar picked out. My shaking fingers can barely grip the material, but I force myself to keep moving. More important than my, or even Pedro’s welfare, is one promise I make to myself then and there—I can’t let Franco know we’re in danger.
To maintain this fragile balance, I must play my role in Jaguar’s twisted game. So, I take the time to dry my hair properly and arrange it into a low bun. Then I pinch some semblance of color into my cheeks.
The woman gaping at me from the mirror is unrecognizable. She seems fragile with her sallow skin and delicate features—but there is a fire in her eyes no one can deny. She isn’t broken yet. With a deep breath for courage, I finally leave the bathroom.
The bedroom is empty, devoid of a mocking Jaguar. He isn’t in the hallway either, and as I descend the stairs, I spy a figure that makes me stop dead in my tracks. An unfamiliar man, dressed in a gray hoodie and sweats, is waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase. Instantly, all my resolve goes out the window.
Jaguar, that bastard, lied to me, and I fell for his trap like a fool. He’s toyed with my patience and taken Franco away while I dallied and sent one of his goons to beat me into submission. I’ll never see my poor boy again. I’ll…
“Pita?”
I flinch at the use of my name and grip the banister while eyeing the figure below. Rather than approach me menacingly, the stranger has his head angled in my direction, allowing me to see his face. He’s surprisingly beautiful for hired narco muscle. “Is that you? Thank God!”
That voice… I squint and recognize a familiar beauty lurking within those masculine features. While they’re not caked in a layer of makeup, I’d know those green eyes anywhere.
“Pedro!” I run to him, nearly tripping down the stairs. He’s there to catch me, already wrapping me in his arms. I submit to the embrace, blinking back tears—until I remember the sore wounds on my lower back. I pray he doesn’t see me wince as I pull back. Desperate to maintain contact with him anyway, I paw at his hoodie, hunting for any wounds he might sport beneath it.
“I was so worried. Did he hurt you? Pedro, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry—”
“I’m okay,” he insists, cupping my face in his hands. “Slow down, honey. I’m a bit worse for wear due to having to travel incognito, but fine otherwise. Frankly, I think I look better than you do. You look like shit, Pita.”
He’s right—but doesn’t even know half of it.
“I don’t understand.” As I examine him, I grow increasingly confused when I don’t find even a scratch. “He said he questioned you.”
I know firsthand the danger that can entail.
“He did,” Pedro says carefully. When I reach for his arm again, he gently seizes my wrist. “I thought I was meeting with a client of mine, only when I got to the venue, Julian fucking Domingas was there instead. To say I almost shit myself would be an understatement.”
His eyes show fear his voice doesn’t. God, I can only imagine what he’s been through.
“I thought I was dead, to be honest, Pita. I’ve heard the rumors, you know?”
Rumors I’d had confirmed with painful certainty.
With more fervor than before, I tear at his clothing and start to lift his shirt. “Did he hurt you? God, I’ll never forgive myself—”
“No. No…” He shrugs me off. “He did confirm something for me, though. Pita, do you have any idea what the hell is going on? Tiena is a selfish bitch, but she doesn’t cut and run unless shit gets too hot. Like with—” He breaks off with a grimace, but my mind finishes that statement for him.
Like with Diego.She saw the danger coming before I ever did. Rather than warn me, she left the damn country. She left me.
To be fair, I’m sure Pedro saw the horror coming as well. The difference? He stayed by my side to face it with me, and for that, I will never forsake him.
“Tiena is the least of my problems right now,” I admit, grabbing his hand. “All I care about is you and Franco—”
“The point is, I should have seen it before, but the signs are there, honey,” Pedro says with a tremor in his voice. “It might be crazy, but I think… Honey, I think Diego could be back.”
“Great. Fucking great.” I choke out a watery laugh and find myself wandering into a nearby room, desperate for fresh air. By chance, I’ve stumbled toward the doors to the terrace and step outside with Pedro on my heels.
“Christ,” he remarks, impressed. “This place must be at least several mil. Life-threatening danger aside, you think you can get me in touch with his agent? I’ve been working on my latest conquest, and if he bought me a house like this, I’d do all the freaky shit he wants me to. There’s this thing with a hair dryer and jump rope that he’s been begging to—”
