Adrian catches my gaze in the rearview mirror, throwing me a look of concern. One I intentionally ignore. He’s waiting to see how I react, expecting me to blow up at Leticia and likely debating whether or not he will intervene.
My brother might despise her and the family she comes from, but the need to defend a woman in distress is so deeply ingrained in him by our mother that it wouldn’t surprise me if he intervened on her behalf should I cross a line.
It’s a worry he need not have.
While I’ve never allowed anyone to strike me and live to tell the tale, Leticia Castro is not justanyone. She is… everything. Leticia has gone toe to toe with me on more than one occasion, proving she is not my lesser, but my equal. And Ifucking love it.
It’s what has always been so refreshing about our relationship.
My own brothers don’t even have that privilege and it’s one I unknowingly gave her during our adolescence while watching her bloom.
When we met as teenagers, she was a meek and cautious little thing with guarded eyes, reminding me of a dog that's been kicked one too many times. Always braced for the next blow life had in store for her.
But over time, it went away, and I’m cognizant enough to know I was the cause for it.
I never let it be known that I protected her from Maxim and his friends. I couldn’t, given the families we belong to. But Leticia understood my position, and she never begrudged me for it. I knew a public display of support would make her life easier. All it would take was a friendly acknowledgement of her existence in the hallways or the reproach of a classmate who mocked her.
I should have done more for her. Been better. But Leticia was grateful for the little I did do, telling me over and over that my efforts were more than enough.
We kept our friendship secret. And when our relationship progressed into something more, our outward appearances remained the same.
I took pains to keep Maxim busy, and I always had one of my boys on her, watching her and keeping her safe under the guise of gathering information on our enemies.
If Maxim Sidorov approached her, I was notified, and my boys and I took great pleasure in foiling his plans. Intervening on Leticia’s behalf swiftly became a sport. One the DeAnde crew rallied behind since they saw it as a means of messing with not only one, but two of our enemies. Mistaking Maxim’s interest in her as one she reciprocated. It was an assumption I never corrected.
My efforts at school did nothing to help with Leticia’s life at home, and though she did her best to hide the bruises from me, I’ve always known her father is an abusive man. So at school, I did what I could.
As time passed, she came more and more out of her shell, secure in the knowledge that with me around, she was safe. I would never hurt her, and I would never stand by and let anyone else hurt her, either.
All these years later, and despite my well-earned reputation, Leticia still does not fear me. I’m happy for it. It will make the path forward easier for the both of us.
I meant what I said to her before. She will be my wife. I had no actual plan for what was to happen next beyond stealing her away from Maxim. No part of me could ever stand by and watch her marry thatpendejo.
But seeing her now, I realize that stealing her away isn’t enough.
I want to own her. Claim her. Mark her as mine, and ensure that never again can circumstance take her from me.
What better way to ensure her position at my side than to marry her, effectively destroying any claim another man might try laying to her?
The more I think about it, the firmer my resolve on the matter is. Even without Leticia’s consent, I’m confident she will learn to see reason.
Tonight didn’t go as planned. There isn’t an ounce of appreciation in her body over my interference. Instead, she sits rigid beside me, pressed up against the door frame to put as much distance between us as possible. I’d laugh if I weren’t so offended by the cool reception.
Her bottom lip juts out like that of a petulant child, and she folds her arms over her chest, pushing her full breasts up. It’s an unintentional move I take full advantage of as I greedily drink her in.
It’s been too long since I last laid eyes on her, and in the years that have passed, she’s changed. Developed.
Leticia’s always been pretty, but grown up, she is stunning.
Her lips are fuller than I remember. Her body is tighter. She’s lost most of the softness in her face that is accompanied by youth, and her figure has filled out, morphing from the reed thin frame of a teenager to the voluptuous body of a woman with curves.
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” she asks, breaking the silence in the vehicle.
“Home.”
Her brows pull together, a small furrow forming between them. She assumes I’m speaking of the Castro compound. I’m not. Her home from this point on is the same as my own. The DeAnde estate.
I won’t be separated from her again.
