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When we neared my room, voices filtered up through the open space.
“Go home,” Antonio said. “There’s no one here that wants you.”
My eyebrows furrowed. Who was he talking to?
Then, like a ghost back from the dead, I heard Isaac speak.
“I think my future wife might like to see me.”
I halted, and Javier bumped my shoulder. He looked down at me, and then back to the open space before stepping in front of me, shielding me from view. I should’ve told him I didn’t want him to do that, but it wasn’t true. I needed someone in my corner after reading that I was at least partially bound to Isaac.
My whole body convulsed. Isaac was forcing me to do something antithetical to my nature, and above all,we didn’t work.
“You think this is a joke? Leave before things get unpleasant,” Antonio said, his voice was almost gravelly.
“So, she is back. You wouldn’t be so territorial if she was still missing.” I could hear Isaac almost smiling when he spoke—could almost see his face.
He knew I was missing. Was it because…?
I leaned forward, supporting myself against Javier’s arm before glancing over the railing. Thinking about Martina was dangerous, and I shoved the poisonous thoughts from my mind. I couldn’t see them well, but I recognized Antonio’s rigid spine and Isaac’s golden hair.
My skin prickled and I blinked.Blood. The smell of blood. Ash. Isaac dead in my arms, and me begging him to stay.
“Antonio, I know you feel pretty powerful these days. I mean, just look at this place. The Canciller has rewarded you for becoming his little pet, but you think we haven’t noticed that you stopped wearing your mourning clothes?”
There was a heavy silence. Isaac had always been obsessed with mine and Antonio’s relationship, but what did he think was going on? Did he think we were spending time tangled up tight while Isaac mourned the death of his mother?
I wouldn’t let myself admit how nice it sounded to have Antonio touch me again, because I needed to eavesdrop.
“There is nothing between Renata and I aside from my mentorship. But that doesn’t mean I will let you stake a claim on her. I’ve already written the Canciller.”
I frowned, a part of me disappointed he didn’t claim me, didn’t tell Isaac that he couldn’t have me becausehewanted me. Getting married to Isaac would be a disaster. Antonio wasn’t an option—but when he had held me in the car, something changed inside of me.
It was completely impractical and romantic, but I would let my mind wander wherever it wanted as long as it didn’t stray back to the last week.
“Let me see her, then. I don’t think I need to remind you I know what happened in that room. I know who she really is, and I will tell everyone.”
Fear pierced my heart, but Antonio said, “I will send for her.” Then, he was growling when he added, “If she says she doesn’t want to see you, I will throw you out on the street and make you regret you ever came here.”
Hearing that was like feeling warm water run down my spine.
Isaac, however, laughed. “I don’t think you are in a position to make threats like that. You better encourage her to say yes.”
Antonio responded. “Go find Señorita Valarde and tell her who has come to visit.”
Footsteps followed his command, and I nestled further behind Javier. My heart was threatening to pound straight out of my chest.
I would say yes when the servant came because I didn’t want anything to happen to Antonio, but I didn’t want them to hear me when I spoke. I slinked out from behind Javier, and headed back towards Antonio office. Standing in front of the oak door, I sank to my haunches.
I should’ve felt foolish for looking like that as the Trabajador walked toward me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
The Trabajador looked at me, hunched over, and frowned. After a moment, he said, “Señorita, Señor Isaac Monroy está aquí.”
My heart clenched at the mention of his name, a mix of relief and fear swirling within me. The image of his lifeless body lying on the ground haunted my thoughts, and I couldn't help but wonder how this boy I had once considered as a potential husband could still hang onto the poisoned embers of us. I didn’t speak, so he continued.
“Quiere hablar con usted.”
I nodded, head in my hands. Of course he wanted to talk—to see me.
