He lifts his hand again. This time he doesn’t touch my mouth. He slides his knuckles lightly along my cheekbone, careful of the swelling, almost gentle.
The tenderness wrecks me more than the violence.
“You walked into my world,” he murmurs. “You don’t get to pick the rules when the sharks start circling.”
Carmen’s laugh is soft and sharp. “Listen to him, Darling. He’s very good at rules.”
I turn toward her, rage sparking again. “Shut up.”
Carmen’s smile is thin. “Or what? You’ll hit me again?”
Diablo’s voice drops colder. “Carmen.”
She stills at his tone, eyes flicking to his face like she’s surprised he used her name like a warning instead of a comfort.
I look back at Diablo, chest tight. “My bird is a living thing,” I say. “He’s not leverage.”
Diablo’s gaze goes darker. “I know.”
“Rico said he has pictures,” I add quickly, dread ripping through me. “He said he’s been watching. The yacht. The helicopter. The beach.”
Carmen’s expression flickers, a tiny crack, like she didn’t like hearing Rico had that angle.
Diablo’s eyes flash. “He’s had eyes on you.”
“And I think those eyes come from somewhere,” I say, letting my gaze drift pointedly to Carmen.
Carmen’s face stays calm, but her fingers curl slightly at her side.
Controlled.
Not unaffected.
Diablo’s expression doesn’t change, but the air around him does. It thickens. Sharpens.
“You’ve been acting like I’m the chaos,” I say, voice steady now. “Like I’m the problem that followed him in.”
Carmen’s smile returns, slow and poisonous. “Maybe because you are.”
“My apartment got trashed,” I snap. “My bird got taken. A white rose was left on my counter.”
Carmen tilts her head. “White roses are common, querida.”
“Not in a destroyed apartment,” I shoot back.
Diablo’s jaw flexes. His body angles subtly between us, a barrier without words.
“I’m not doing this in front of my men,” Diablo says quietly.
Carmen’s brows lift. “Doing what? Pretending she’s not a threat?”
“I said not here,” Diablo repeats, and the finality makes even Carmen pause.
He turns back to me, eyes pure command.
“Vice.”
From behind us, Vice moves instantly, like he’s been waiting for the call. “Yeah, Prez?”
