“Your woman? You fucking wish,” he slurs, eye-fucking Valentina.
My fingers tighten on Valentina’s shoulder, twisting her to face me, effectively pulling the man’s grip from her flawless skin. A breath whooshes from her lips as her chest crashes into mine, her claws digging into my flesh as she clings to my shirt.
Simply to prove a point to the asshole, I lean down, my lips a breath’s width away from hers. They tremble slightly, her eyes wide as she looks at mine through the holes in my mask. And then, without a word, I fuse our mouths together. Soft lips melt against mine, molding to take me. For a second, Valentina remains frozen, and then, like gasoline to a flame, she ignites, her tongue fighting against my own, a groan leaving her mouth and burning through me with an intensity that leaves me gasping.
I pull away, taking sick satisfaction that I’m not the only affected. She looks disheveled, desperate, even, and I’ve barely even touched her.
“You probably didn’t have to do that to prove anything,” she says breathlessly.
I smirk at her, winking. “No, you’re probably right, but I wanted to.” And I did want to kiss Valentina Reyes.Simply to know how sweet the forbidden fruit tastes.
But now that I’ve had a hit, I’m afraid I’ll be an addict the rest of my miserable life.
“Like I said, asshole,” I pull Valentina into my chest, looking at the man once more, “hands off my woman.”
He looks like he wants to challenge me, but his friend convinces him otherwise, tugging him back into the crowd to find another unsuspecting victim. Maybe I should beat his ass just to save the other women here.
But I hold on to Valentina instead, sliding my finger under her chin, tipping her head back to look at me. “Where’s McCrae? Isn’t he supposed to be guarding you?”
At first, I was glad to see her alone—makes my mission easier. But now that I’ve seen her in danger, not for the first time, I feel protective of her.What the fuck is wrong with me?
She shrugs her shoulders, a fleeting look of sadness on her face before it’s gone. “He went with Faith to get a drink. A while ago.”
I look over at the drink line, seeing nothing of the two, but I keep it to myself. It’d be easy to drive that point in—she’s alone, even her friends and hired body guard leaving her—but I can’t seem to do it.
“I’ll go get us a drink if you want. You can stay here and wait for them. I’m sure they’re coming right back. And then, we’ll all go play a couple of these stupid fair games.”
She eyes me reluctantly, like she can’t quite believe what I’m saying. Shit, I can’t believe it either, but just for tonight, it feels right.
It’s just another way to get into her good graces, another way to manipulate her.
She smiles at me, a truly joyful look on a woman I’ve seen do little more than glare or pout in my direction, and I nearly fall to my knees.Maybe she’s not the one being manipulated here.
“Sure. I’ll take whatever you have.”
I nod, words no longer making their way from my brain to my tongue. When I turn, her black tipped nails wrap around my arm, halting me. I look at her, confused when her smile widens a fraction. “Thank you, Santos. I don’t do well with—” She contemplates her next words, as if they’re some kind of key to her secrets. “I don’t do well with men.” It makes no sense, and yet, makes all the sense in the world.
I could say I’m a man, that McCrae’s a man, but something about being a man she trusts, in a world where she’s clearly been hurt or, at the very least, betrayed, meanssomething.
“Of course,” I say.
As I make my way through the crowd, I feel myself questioning everything. Do I sympathize with this woman? How is that possible? She’s evil incarnate—selfish to her core.
But what if it’s a mask, just like the one I wear? What if it’s the only way to protect what’s left of the pieces of herself she clings to?
I feel the carefully weaved lines between hate and sympathy tangling further, tugging on my heart in a way I can’t understand. Valentina Reyes is my enemy.
But what if she’s not?
“Rafael?”
My blood runs cold at the sound ofhervoice. Frozen in what feels like a never ending loop to hell, I can’t move. This can’t be happening.
If I don’t move, she’ll leave.
“Rafael, is that you?” Her voice is hesitant now, like her eyes might be deceiving.
In another world, this could be my chance to ask for forgiveness. It could be my chance to start over—to ask how she is and express how deeply gutted I am by what happened to her.
