A winner’s smile.
Like she set this scene and waited for me to walk into it.
Diablo’s expression shifts fast. Shock first. Then fury, sharp and immediate, like he wants to tear the room apart and rewind time at the same time.
“Darling,” he says, and my name in his mouth lands like a bruise.
Carmen tilts her head, still smiling, eyes glittering like she’s drunk on control. “Ay, mira,” she purrs, soft and sweet. “She’s back.”
My throat burns.
I taste metal.
I don’t scream.
I don’t cry.
I don’t give her that.
I just stare long enough to let the image brand itself into me, because pretending I didn’t see it would be another kind of lie, and I’m done living in lies.
Diablo shifts like he’s going to sit up, like he’s going to throw her off his dick, like he’s going to fix it. His jaw is clenched so hard it looks painful.
Carmen’s hand slides across his chest like she’s petting a prize. “Relax, amor,” she murmurs, not even looking at him. Her eyes stay on me. “She’s just watching.”
Something cold settles into place inside me.
Not a breakdown.
A decision.
I take one slow step back.
Diablo’s voice snaps, darker. “Carmen. Get off.”
She doesn’t move. Not right away. She just smiles wider, like she loves hearing him use her name like a command, like she loves that even his anger proves she’s in the room with him.
I don’t wait for the rest.
I turn.
I walk away.
My legs feel steady even though my heart is trying to claw out of my chest. My hands don’t shake until I’m out in the hallway again, and even then I keep them at my sides like fists, nails digging into my palms to keep me anchored.
When I step back into the bar, Lady’s head snaps up immediately.
She takes one look at my face and her expression goes lethal.
“Baby,” she says, starting to rise.
I shake my head once.
Small. Final.
Because this time, I won’t be the girl begging to stay.
This time, I won’t be the one fighting for scraps while Carmen sits on Diablo’s dick.
