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“¿Que le digo?” he asked uncertainly.
I took a long, deep breath. “I’ll speak with him.” I stood up, and I could see the relief written across the Trabajador’s face.
We took a different path down to the first floor, and I sucked in a breath when I saw Isaac waiting. His arms were crossed, and he was casually leaning against the arched doorway.
Antonio hadn’t seen me yet. He was watching Isaac with such contempt it almost made me feel better.
“Isaac,” I said slowly as we neared.
Both of their faces snapped onto me and I fiddled with a button on one of the pockets sewn onto my top. It was hard to breathe, and I swallowed all the sadness building in my throat.
Isaac finished turning around, and he smiled. It was shocking how dazzling and vibrant he looked; how alive he was.
“Rena,” he said and Antonio scowled.
A shadow darkened behind me, and I looked back to see Javier and Manuel.
I took a deep breath. I could do this. The new Carmen would.
Lifting my chin high, I said, “You want to speak?”
Isaac’s face clouded when I didn’t come any closer, but he said, “Yes.”
Short and to the point. If that was how we were going to play, then no problem. I turned to Antonio and asked, “Where can we speak?”
After a few long moments of him staring at me with his jaw continuously clenching and unclenching, he nodded. “There’s a dining room right there.” Then he gestured to a room with one of the largest interior doors I’d ever seen.
Feeling unsure of myself, I walked straight to it, my hulking shadows following closely behind. I took in the enormous space with a table long enough to accommodate fourteen people. At least. This wasn’t just for casual dinners, this was more elaborate than anything I had seen in Rosa de Oro.
I let out a breath and walked the long distance to the window.
The door shut behind me and I resisted the urge to run away by staring out the window, my legs shaky beneath me. I was trying to make sense of it all. The sun cast long, twisted shadows on the pavement, mirroring the distorted reality I found myself in.
"I struggle to know what to call you,” Isaac said, but I did not turn around. It seemed like he wanted to bait me. “Renata, the mysterious girl who showed up on one of the most important days of my life and shattered the vision I’d had of my future. Carmen, the woman that stole my heart and accepted my kisses only to poison me with them.”
When I didn’t speak, he continued.
“You are the reason my mother is dead,” Isaac said and Manuel took a step forward. If Isaac noticed, he didn’t react. “I wish that I did not want you, even now.”
My hands went limp at my sides. For the first time, I turned around and got a good, long look at the only boy I’d ever met taller than me. I studied the waves of his blond hair, and his brightly colored eyes.
He seemed sincere, which made me believe he was insane. I killed his mother. Why did he want me? “Are you delusional?”
Isaac recoiled. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you ask that?”
I would never be used to seeing his face without seeing him lying on the floor, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t challenge him. My hands clenched into fists as I tried to suppress the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me—fear, guilt, and anger, all fighting for control.
“Because I killed your mother after she tried to stab me. How could you even look at me after something like that? Why would you want to marry me after all the ugliness between us?”
He tilted his chin up. “I know only what I feel. My mind cannot make sense of my erratic heart.”
"Isaac," I whispered. "I don’t believe you. You don’t love me. There has to be some other reason.”
He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. “You said you loved me once. Even after…”
I stared at him, shocked. “I never said that.”
Something dark passed in his expression. “You told my mother you loved me. And she believed you would be a good match for me, but please, understand me. I was drawn to you long before that. If we did this, we would fulfill her dying wish… and my living desire.”
