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Ace scowls at me once we’re out of the hotel and crossing the parking lot. “Man, what the fuck is up with you lately?”

I shrug off his question. “Nothing is up. Same old shit, just a different day.”

“Why’d you push Arturo’s son like that?”

“Easy. Arturo wanted to see how his baby boy would deal with difficult partners, and I played the role perfectly. Like you said, Rojas needs this deal more than we do, and he’s not going to let his snotnose son fuck it up.”

The weight of Ace’s gaze on my face almost pisses me off, but I know his tricks. He won’t get me to talk. “You’re sure that’s all it is?”

“Positive. Those motherfuckers have no idea how the world works, Ace. Arturo has paved the way for them, and they think all that’s required in this world is a few threats. Fuck that. If Benedicto and Emili-fucking-ano want to be part of this game, then they need to learn how we work.”

Ace and I stare at each other for a long time, and I wonder if this is how he wants to have this talk.

Eventually, his shoulders relax, and he gets on his bike. “If you’re sure, man. I trust you.”

No other words could have hit me harder in the chest than those three. Of course, Ace trusts me. I have never given him or the club a reason not to trust me or question my loyalty, and I never will.

I take a deep breath and rev my engine. “One hundred percent, brother.” I take the long route back to the clubhouse because I need to clear my head and figure out what the fuck I’m doing with Valentina Rojas.

This can only end badly, but even as that thought comes to me, it’s accompanied by more thoughts of her.

On her knees, sucking my cock.

Bent over my bike, her ass in my hands pumping into her like the world is on fire.

Pulling my hair and gripping my head while I suck that sweet cunt into oblivion.

“Fuck!” I’m totally fucked. I’m in too deep with Valentina and her wicked ways, and it’s becoming a goddamn nightmare.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Valentina

I sift through my lingerie, looking for something special to wear for Jake. The door to my suite slams open, and Emiliano storms in, angry as ever.

“What is it now, Emiliano?” I ask, already tired of his daily complaints.

“You need to get back to Columbia and make the arrangements for Alejandro’s funeral. He needs a proper burial, and it’s not right that you’re here gallivanting and shopping.”

“Gallivanting? Look who’s learned a new word.” I laugh and shake my head at his impertinence.

“I’m serious, Valentina,” he scoffs.

I drop the deep purple babydoll dress because it’s too demure for what I have in mind. I turn to my brother. “I don’t care, Emiliano. Please mind your own fucking business.”

He rears back like I hit him. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“I could ask you the same question. I’m not going anywhere until I’m ready. If you care so much about your friend Alejandro, you go back and plan his funeral.”

His brows knit into a disapproving frown. “How can you be so cold?”

“Oh, fuck off, Emiliano. I did my duty and married Alejandro for Papa, so please don’t act like he was the love of my life. My duty is finished, and now I am free of it and Papa’s expectations.”

Emiliano surprises me by grabbing me by the arm and yanking me toward him. “You callous bitch!”

I struggle against his hold, but he has the height and weight advantage. I do what Papa taught me and pull my leg back and knee him in the balls. “Get the hell out of my room. And next time you want to speak to me, knock.”

My brother is furious, but he knows if he pushes it further, Papa will choose me over him. Instead of replying, he glares at me, his hands on his crotch and breath heaving before he storms out of my room.

With my little pest gone, I focus on what I will wear tonight, deciding on the strapless yellow minidress. I can already see the heat flaring in Jake’s eyes when they see me with so much skin on display.

I can’t hide my excitement anymore, and I reach under my mattress for the burner to text him that I’ve found our next meeting place. But before I can complete the call, Papa knocks and enters my suite. I slip the phone under my pillow and turn to him, smiling.

“Papa, what brings you by?” I ask, trying to sound innocent.

His serious expression tells me there’s something on his mind, so I sit on the edge of the bed and cross my legs, waiting patiently for whatever warrants this rare visit.

“What do you know of this man, Jake Dixon?” he asks, getting straight to the point.

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