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“You read what I left for you?” he asks in a deadly soft murmur.
I nod. Just like that, the high from tasting him wears off, making way for the unease left behind by the tale of Hamlet.
“I can’t tell if you meant for me to sympathize with Hamlet or Ophelia,” I say, picking a neutral topic to bridge the subject.
Or so I think.
His eyes flash, displaying that calculating gleam. “Ophelia was an innocent woman blinded and destroyed by love,” he explains. “You, Lupe, don’t strike me as such a naïve creature. No. I think you might be more insidious than that.”
My heart sinks. At least he waited until Franco was gone to confront me with his wrath. I can be grateful for that. Grateful and terrified.
“Oh?”
“Oh, yes.” One of his hands ghosts up my back and sinks into my hair, parting the strands at a leisurely pace. “I think you may be better described as ambitious to a fault, willing to do whatever it takes to further your motives, be it revenge or something else.”
“So, I’m Hamlet, then,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Does that mean you are my Ophelia?”
“No,” he says coldly. His grip on me tightens, snatching me to him. “It means I’m wondering if parts of you are merely an act you put on for the world’s benefit.”
“Like how Hamlet faked his madness?” I somehow maintain that playful tone.
Internally, I’m terrified. Does he still think I’m using Franco?
“Exactly that,” he says with a slow nod. “Only you fake something far more insulting to me, Lupe. In one breath, you pledge your devotion, but in the next? I see those shifty eyes plotting for the nearest exit. Tell me, why would a woman who claims to belong solely to me, seemingly be ready to run the second she gets the chance?”
Oh. Perhaps this is his way of easing into the more grievous aspects of my offenses. I know better than to brush off his concerns. He wants a real answer. To deny him that would be to misstep over an invisible sheet of fragile glass.
“Because men like you grow bored, Jaguar,” I blurt, hating how vulnerable the confession makes me feel. “You grow bored quickly and reliably. The second you do, I won’t waste your time by begging or clinging to something we never had. I will leave, out of respect for you—”
“Don’t fucking lie.” He snatches a fistful of my hair, tugging me closer to him. It stings. My eyes water, and I suppress the urge to pull away. “Don’t youeverlie to me. My respect? No, that’s not what you’re after. You’re after an opportunity. To go crawling back to your lover the second you sense he might gain the upper hand. That’s been your aim from the start, hasn’t it?”
Your lover.Not Braulio. My brain goes blank, and I’m silent for too long. His grip on my hair turns just short of painful. He’s holding back.
“You never intended to give yourself to me, did you?” he asks with a low laugh. “You merely aim to buy him time. Admit it now, and after what you did with that sweet tongue, I may go easy on you.”
“You think I’m working with another man,” I say carefully.
His eyes narrow to slits, burning like coals. “I can’t think of any other reason you get so cagey when it comes to me, chica. Care to enlighten me?”
There isn’t time to come up with a good lie or funny quip to distract him. The only defensive weapon I have is the truth.
“I gave myself wholeheartedly once, without understanding the whims of powerful men,” I tell him, my throat tight. “I promised myself that I would never make that mistake again. I didn’t lie to you. You have me for as long as you want me, but when you don’t—”
“When I don’t?” He loosens his grip but holds my gaze. I feel his stare down to the core of my being. Like he’s raking over every piece of me at his disposal.
“I don’t recall giving you that impression,” he says softly. “Perhaps I didn’t make my intentions clear before? You could carry my child, should you ask. Say the word, and I’ll call my doctor to take that implant from your arm and fill you with my seed tonight. I don’t make that offer lightly, Lupe. And yet, you don’t do the one thing you promised me you would. You haven’t given me your loyalty.”
My brain reels with too many chilling realizations that I can’t possibly process them all. Not with my throat still raw from taking him and my body at his mercy.
All I can do is fish for a response that isn’t faked.
“I’ve been hurt before,” I confess. “It nearly killed me. I think a part of me finds it hard to open myself up again, even if I think I’m ready.”
“That’s a pretty sad story, Lupe.” He drags his knuckles down my cheek, tilting my face for his inspection. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I… I don’t know—”
“I’ll tell you why.” He brings his mouth to my ear and nips at the lobe. “Because I’ve seen how you love, Lupe. I’ve felt how you fuck when you drop your guard. Fear isn’t what holds you back when it comes to me. Love is. For him. You think I can’t see that?”
