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She has long black hair falling down her back in heavy waves. The bright light shining from the ceiling reflects through the wavy, silky strands that reach her bottom.
Her blue eyes remind me of the clear sky on a summer day and stand out like two diamonds against her tan skin. The flowery red dress she wears wraps around her body, showing the generous curves of her breasts, butt, and…the slight bump of her stomach, which is almost invisible to a passerby. I would have missed it if it wasn’t for my assertiveness due to my profession.
She’s pregnant and does her best to hide it. However, judging by the bump size, she has a month, tops, to keep it a secret.
The dress ends slightly above her knees, revealing her long legs, and as she steps closer, her scent, roses mixed with orchids and lavender, washes over me. “Oh, please continue. Didn’t you hear how protective he is of her despite being angry?” She pats my shoulder. “I grew up around these men. He doesn’t want to kill you. Fuck you? Absolutely.”
Jimena Elena Cortez.
The infamous heiress to the throne and the Four Dark Horsemen’s princess they all love to dote on. Even Octavius’s sister doesn’t get as much attention as this girl does.
Maybe because she’s eleven years younger than them, they all feel protective of her, especially her older brother Santiago.
“I wouldn’t have stalked him if he just listened to me and agreed to help me.” I run my fingers over my dress that stands out in a bad way among the four of us, bringing attention to the washed-out fabric, and all the girls grimace. Their faces do little to hide their internal thoughts. “Why is it so hard for him?” Oh God, I sound desperate again, but truly, why is it so hard to cooperate with me on this one? It’s not like it was my choice in the first place to seek his help—the rules of the game dictate my actions.
“Well, these men are difficult,” Jimena states, and I wonder if that’s supposed to reassure me. Because it does exactly the opposite! “Let’s go to the terrace. It’s has a nice view and a small gazebo where we can talk while all this madness is happening.” She swirls her finger in the air. “And maybe you can share your little problem with us. We are pretty powerful too, you know.” She winks at me, and I relax a bit in her company, as with each word, she proves her reputation true.
Kind, gentle, and warm despite the beauty and status life has granted her, and I hope whoever the baby daddy is, he mans up quick as Jimena would have never hid her pregnancy otherwise.
And good luck to the dude because her father and brother would kill him.
Besides, blending in the party sounds like the best solution, allowing me to scan the property and await the unexpected from the Church Killer while in good company. “Sounds like a plan.” I grin. “I miss talking to someone. My best friend got married and lives in Houston.” I hate phone conversations but learned to love them due to the distance. Nothing will stand between Giselle and me. “You probably met her husband, Callum.” A beat passes. “So I could use new friends.” When what I implied registers in my mind, I correct myself. “Not that I expect you to be my friend. I’ll just shut up now.” At this rate, even they might ditch my ass for being a clingy weirdo who assumes friendships and relationships based on one encounter. I might be stupid, but I’m not that naive.
Everyone laughs, and Jimena hooks her arm through my elbow, bringing herself closer to me. “Let’s start with a talk.” She pulls me in the opposite direction of the ballroom and to a narrow hallway. “We should drink some tea too.” Jimena grabs Briseis with her other arm.
“Whatever you say, sister-in-law.”
And all the way, I feel a burning feeling in the back of my head, the drilling possessive stare of a man who haunts my dreams, but I don’t turn around to try to find it.
Because he can stare all he wants.
But unless he intends to do something about it, he can go to hell.
Octavius
“I know you’re lacking experience but generally, when you want a woman, you don’t go around choking her at parties and acting like a dick toward her on most days,” Florian says when I reach around him and grab a whiskey bottle, flicking it open and pouring myself a glass while the music echoes through the space mingling with the hum of people.
One of the greatest tragedies this society faces, no one knows when to shut up and listen to their thoughts because their thoughts are way more painful and agonizing than any other boring conversation could be.
That’s why I prefer to fill the silence with screams and cries of my victims.
I take a large sip while my best friend continues to talk, oblivious to my warning glare thrown his way. “There are more practical ways to woo a woman.” He taps on his chin. “You could, for starters, buy her a new apartment and move her there.” I sip my drink some more. “God knows it would have been cheaper than bribing her entire neighborhood to act nice and give her a wide berth.” He sighs, placing his hand on his chest, and his voice turns high-pitched. “Although it’s so romantic.”
My hold on the glass tightens, any more pressure and the damn thing will crack in my grip. I keep the indifferent expression on my face, despite the whiskey tasting bitter on my tongue, an inferno erupting inside me, ready to burn everything around me because the woman who consumes my every thought just got hurt by me.
A-fucking-gain.
Madness still swirls all over me just thinking about how she endangered herself by coming here with the prick almost kicking her out, and the idea of her being hurt by anyone, let alone some staff member…it awakens the rage so strong, I can barely contain it.
Isla is mine, and no one has a right to upset her or make her feel anything less than.
No one.
Which is ironic, considering no one hurt or disrespected her more than me in the past twenty-four hours.
I have no other choice, especially not after last night when I watched the surveillance video from her apartment where she got a strange message. She paled so much, I quickly hacked her phone and read the message myself.
The fucker is playing with her and brought her here for a reason, and I want to strangle her pretty neck for playing along and putting herself on this unknown path. But then I crave to kiss every inch of her skin, apologizing to her flesh for ever bruising it, and if that doesn’t show how insane I am about her and the fact that I need to stay away from her, nothing else will.
