“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words land heavy between us.
Ownership again.
Control again.
Behind him, Carmen stands on the platform watching us with a slow, satisfied smile. Like she already knew exactly how this would play out. Like she lit the fuse herself.
And now she gets to watch us burn.
Chapter 6
Darling
Diablo’s gaze flicks past my shoulder. Not to Carmen. To the room. To his men. To the way people are starting to notice. To the way a crowd can turn a private moment into a weapon.
His hand slides from my wrist to the small of my back, firm, claiming, the way a biker moves a woman through a room when he wants everyone to understand she’s under his protection.
He leans in, mouth brushing my ear.
“Walk,” he says. “Now.”
It isn’t a request.
It also isn’t a threat.
It’s the closest thing to safety I’ve felt in months, and I hate myself for it.
I open my mouth to refuse.
He squeezes my back. Not painful. Just certain.
“Darling,” he murmurs, and my name sounds like a promise and a command. “Say you don’t want me to touch you and I won’t. But you’re not walking out that door with Rico’s people out there and half the city watching.”
My pulse jumps.
Because that isn’t jealousy.
That’s fear.
Real fear.
And it crawls into my bones.
I swallow, then step with him.
The room parts like it recognizes his authority. Patches shift. Prospects move fast. Women glance over shoulders, eyes bright with gossip and hunger. Someone laughs like they’re placing a bet.
Carmen’s gaze follows us as we move. She’s smiling, but it’s tight now.
Not sweet.
Strategic.
She wants the room to see him take me.
She wants it to look like she owns the ending no matter what we do.
