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The scent of his cologne was musky and rich, but it was masked by a layer of perspiration and the sharp smell of something metallic. Like blood.
He did not blink when looking at me, though he wore a polite smile. The wrinkles of his brow grew deeper as his expression changed.
I was haggard and reeking of blood. Fear should’ve been coursing through my veins; I killed his cousin’s wife, but he had killed my whole family.
“What wicked things you must’ve done to yourself to wear a table cloth during a party like this,” he said with a wink.
He could kill me on the spot, and the way my heart was racing was another confirmation that I was still not ready to die.
I curtsied deeply, my heart picking up speed in my chest, as I heard Martina shout,The time of your kind is over.
“Canciller. It is an honor to finally meet you. I have so much to thank you for…” the words dried up completely. It wasn’t a pleasure, and I would rather pull out my eyeball than thank him for anything else.
He seemed to know it as well. A smirk tugged at that polite smile. But then I watched his eyes travel down my bodice.
My skin crawled as my chances of a clean escape rapidly diminished.
“My–my dress,” I stammered. I could feel the fabric tighten around my stomach. “It… it was ruined. Wine…”
The smirk was gone, but he raised one eyebrow. “Si, que pena. It was quite the sight.” Another cool smile on his aged face.
How did he know what it had looked like before?
There was something violently dangerous about that smile. He was too calm and knew too much. He didn’t even need to threaten to inspire fear.
I was a fool to think I could get away with murder, but I still scanned the surrounding area for an escape route.
“You do not need to be frightened,” he said, extending his hand out to me. “You’ll find there are few things I cannot resolve. Why, just last week I suppressed a story with some very compromising photos of you and that Monroy boy.” He raised his chin a little, but my stomach was plummeting.
There had been cameras there, taking pictures of Isaac and I.
Isaac meant blood. Isaac was—
“Some of my advisors say I have a soft spot for you. I recently lost a daughter, and you have no father. Quite the pair we make.”
I stared at him in shock.
He took a step forward, his hand still outstretched. “As my family, I would, of course, be expecting you to return my generosity from time to time.”
He wanted to own me. Harness the power that I held.
I looked at his hand, at what it promised, and stepped back.
“What are you doing?” he asked. His face remained impassive, but his eyes swallowed the surrounding light.
I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t trust him, knowing I wasn’t safe.
Canciller Agustín Duarte had offered me his protection, but it was like making a deal with a devil.
I had known enough of hell in my lifetime.
I took another step back and collided with a solid chest. I looked up, shaking, to see a bodyguard. My gaze slid back to Agustin.
The Canciller nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “How about you reconsider while I check on your little mess?”
“Wait,” I pleaded.
He did not stop, just looked at me with a dark, bemused expression, and opened the door.
