“What do you think Axel would say about this?” I ask through clenched teeth. Both Axel and Adan are extremely controlling when it comes to their little sister.
“I wouldn’t get involved, Alma. Thalia’s really protective over Ari.”
“Well I heard something from a source about her being with a whole biker gang.”
Mireya’s eyebrows shoot up. Maybe I’ve been drinking too much—it’s definitely out of my character to believe something Shawny said. But what if she was right? What if he brings Ariella back to our penthouse? What if I have to hear them fucking?
I look up to see him leading Ariella to the dance floor. She’s wearing a sparkling pink gown with a heart shaped halter that pushes her boobs up. I hate that she’s the best dressed in the room, making me and everyone else look like the people of Walmart.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t feel anything, but there it is.
Something sharp and sour twists low in my belly. Theydance and laugh. And dance and laugh. She touches his arm, just a light brush, and says something that makes his grin stretch wider. I hate the way it makes me feel.
And suddenly, I hate her.
Her perfect laugh. Her fake blonde hair. Her confidence, all effortless and loud, like she’s never had to fight for attention a day in her life. I clench my jaw so hard it hurts, trying to focus on anything else.
It’s this newfound hatred that has me peering over the bar, looking for the only person I know I could use to my advantage. Asking random guests and staff about Axel’s whereabouts gets me nowhere. But the children’s table is a different story.
“Have you seen Axel?” I ask Thalia’s daughter, Lucia.
She answers with an exaggerated sigh and shrug of her shoulders. Next to her is a Chihuahua that she’s spoon feeding. Or at least, I think it’s a chihuahua. Its maimed hair makes me question if it’s in some type of immediate danger here, but I have to stay focused on my mission.
“I know where he’s at,” a girl with a tortilla stuck to her face says. Her brown eyes peer through her creative mask, and her curly hair falls around her face.
“You’re not supposed to tell, Kamila,” Lucia says, annoyed.
“Pinche chismosa,” the boy next to her mutters.
I watch how the little girl, Kamila’s, face falls and something in my heart breaks for her.
“Kamila, I promise, I have something really important to tell Axel. You would be helping me, and that would make you a good person.”
“Like my sister Nessy?”
“Sure,” I say, laying it on thick.
I’m not sure who Nessy is, but time is of the essence. I don’t want to get the little girl in trouble, but I also need tofind Axel. Kamila looks to the table and checks on both Lucia and the little boy before she motions me closer. She leans in, cupping her tiny hand around her mouth, and whispers in my ear.
“He’s in the cigar room.”
I’ve never been inside the cigar room before, but I’ve seen glimpses through the cracked door while cleaning. I take the steps on the far end of the ball room, one of many different escape features found in Calavera Hotels.
I climb the steps and push through the glass doors, the strong scent of tobacco mixed with cologne hitting me hard. The walls are covered in dark paneling, tiny gold iridescent skulls appearing with a flicker of the amber light. Oversized velvet sofas are arranged throughout the room.
I spot Axel immediately, a woman sitting on his lap while more surround him, circling him like sharks, but it’s them desperate to be devoured. I see the tattoo over his eyebrow.Desmadroso. And that he is—chaotic and ruthless.
My body fights me to turn around and leave, but I move forward anyway. Frozen when he looks up, I can see his eyes blaze through me.
“Hi.” My voice trembles.
Hi? Really, Alma?
His brow arches, a cigar in one hand, his other slowly grazing the ass of the girl sitting on his lap.
“There’s something downstairs that needs your attention,” I say.
