THIRTEEN
RAFAEL SANTOS
September 20th, 2025
“Let’s play a game.”
Valentina shakes her head instantly.I knew she’d be harder to convince.I pin Faith with my flirtiest grin—although I can’t tell if she’s interested in meor interested in annoying Valentina, she bites, “I like games.”
“Kill me,” Valentina hisses, nursing what I’ve noticed is straight tequila blanco, on the rocks.How true her words ring—but I don’t so much as flinch.
“Twenty questions?” I ask, swirling my own glass—water with a lime, because I have to blend in but remain sharp—and Valentina’s expression sours further.
“What if I don’t want you to know things about me?”
I shrug. “What do you have to hide?”
Valentina glares, for so long, I’m afraid she won’t answer. And then, she tips her glass back, draining the contents before saying, “What if I’m not as interesting as you think?”
I pause. She sounds almost insecure, which doesn’t make sense for the egotistical woman I know her to be. My stomach curdles at the realization she’s fishing for compliments.
Desperate whore.
“Fine,” I bite out behind a forced smile. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to, but you have to take a shot.”
I wink at Shannon, the world’s least subtle bartender, as she sets down the shot glasses. I carefully arrange them within Valentina’s reach, and she eyes them like she can’t wait to make the liquid disappear.
Getting her drunk and digging for secrets is going to be easier than I thought.
“Oh! Me first.” Faith bounces in her seat, and I have to nod along, like I’m not secretly annoyed she’s here at all. I don’t know where she came from or how she can stand to be around Valentina, but whenever I seem to have Valentina to myself, Faith shows up—a ballerina-shaped barrier.“Are you interested in our friend Valentina?”
Valentina’s elbow darts toward Faith’s ribs, but to my surprise, the girl’s quick, dodging the blow with a childlike giggle. I raise my brows at her—she’s as lethal as a cat, and then she giggles like a school girl.
It’s slightly creepy.
“Well, sure.” I smile over the rim of my glass, darting my eyes away to hide the repulsion that fills me. I’m interested in her alright—interested in destroying her entire fucking life.
“Your turn.” Faith pushes Valentina’s shoulder, and she groans in response.
“Fine. Did you follow me here?”
I meet her gaze. “No.”Yes.
She watches me shrewdly, and if I didn’t hate her so much, I’d applaud her for not being half as stupid as she looks. Of course I followed her. I’ve made it my mission to know whereshe is at all times; that way, I can figure out the best time to attack.
Like tonight, once she’s drunk and vulnerable. Although, her hostility towards me is new, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s related to how downright pissy McCrae was when I left.
Trouble in paradise?
“My turn.” I twirl my glass, making a show of thinking up a question when I’ve known what I want to ask all along. I purse my lips together, and Valentina grunts in annoyance—what I wouldn’t give to piss her off all day, every day. The way she’s always pissing me off.“The first night we met, you said your brother took everything from you. Why would he do that?”
Valentina’s haughty mask melts into blatant rage, her gaze going from confused to murderous in the span of blink. Without breaking eye contact, she raises a shot of tequila, downing it so quickly, several drops spill past her full, red lips, racing down her long neck to the valley between her breasts.
I watch the droplets, my faux interest in her allowing me to make a show of it. Bile crawls up my throat as the tequila disappears beneath blue lace.
I wait, the tension palpable.
Will she hit me?
