We couldn’t afford to.
Then—
Footsteps sounded from the opposite direction, firm and deliberate in a way that struck something sharp inside me with recognition.
My body tensed instantly, reacting long before my mind caught up.
My grip on Zara instinctively firmed.
The scent hit next—sharp, expensive cologne layered over something darker.
Recognition settled like a stone in my stomach.
Bruno. Rafael Pérez’s brother.
Of course.
“Empty Eyes...” His voice slithered out, laced with mock pity.
“Look at you, dragging a half-dead brat around like some pathetic prop. Don’t tell me that’s actually your child? Who in their right mind would willingly shove his cock into a useless blind whore and knock her up? Must’ve been some drunk beggar or a pity fuck gone wrong.”
He let out a low, mocking chuckle that deepened into a sharp, sardonic laugh, and my jaw locked instantly.
What in the world was he doing here—here of all places, at all times?
Zara shifted uneasily against me, her small body tensing at the shift in the air.
I kept walking, jaw tight, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reply.
Bruno’s footsteps fell in perfect sync with mine, deliberate and mocking.
“So you think you can just slink away and ignore me, Empty Eyes?” His voice twisted with feigned curiosity, sharpening into pure venom. “What a delusional, arrogant little bitch you are. Don’t worry—I haven’t forgotten how you crossed me. I’ll make you bleed for it. Slowly.”
I stopped, breath tight.
“My child is sick. She needs rest right now. Just... leave us alone. Pick your fight with me some other time.”
A beat of silence.
Then he laughed, low and ugly.
“Like I give a single fuck about your sniveling spawn?” He said flatly. “And this child... she looks very familiar.”
His tone dripped with dark realization as Zara pressed herself harder behind me. “It can’t be... “
He stepped closer, voice dropping to an intimate, threatening whisper. “I’ll come to your home tonight. And this time, I’ll finish what I started—properly. Expect me. I always collect my debts.”
Then his footsteps retreated, fading with mocking leisure.
My fingers tightened around Zara’s hand for a moment, heart hammering.
Zara let out a small, frightened whimper against my arm.
I bent toward her immediately, keeping my voice soft but steady. “Don’t mind him, Zara. Don’t listen to a single word he says. I won’t let anyone hurt you... or take you from me. Ever.”
The promise settled in the air between us.
But promises were easy to make, weren’t they?
