Page 323 of Vicious Temptation

More tears roll down my cheeks.

“Yes.”

“It’s yours.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

I never thought I’d get used to waking up at Villa Dorada. It turns out, I was right.

Every morning, I still find something that makes me stop and stare, whether it’s the early sunlight stretching across the courtyard, the old stone walls turning gold at sunrise, or the view my parents used to sit together and watch all those years ago.

And every evening, when the sky burns orange and pink over the property, I finally understand why Thiago would post pictures of Texas sunsets.

I used to wonder what he saw in them.

Now I know.

When that faction of Helios fell apart, Thiago discovered years of untouched field bonuses and hazard pay had accumulated in an account he never knew existed. He used most of it to buy out the owners of the estate.

The house isn’t empty anymore, and neither is the art studio.

ME: I’m on the south side, by the flower stand.

Best Husband Ever: I’ll be there in five.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and claim an empty bench beneath the shade while I wait, watching people weave between the rows of vendors scattered throughout the outdoor market.

Texas has given me plenty of things to get used to over the last three months, but the goddamn sun might be the hardest. I bring my water bottle to my lips as my attention catches on a flash of fiery red hair across the way. It falls in waves down a woman’s back, and just as I’m about to look away, she sweeps it over one shoulder, revealing a large, intricate tattoo spanning her back.

The second I see it, the bottle freezes against my lips.

A scorpion stretches across her skin, and above it are the three words I’ve spent nearly seven years searching for.

Sub umbra venimus.

We come from the shadows.

It feels like every bit of air in Texas disappears all at once. My legs are moving before I can think, my blade already in my hand.

As if she senses me coming, the woman whips around when I’m barely a few feet away. She doesn’t have time to reach for a weapon, but the way her body shifts into a ready stance tells me everything I need to know.

She isn’t just some innocent shopper with a familiar tattoo.

I lunge, and she does the same.

Her shoulder drives into my middle, and we crash to the ground, knocking the breath from my lungs. Shouts erupt around us as people scramble out of the way, but I barely register any of it.

I swing the blade toward her side, but she traps my wrist and drives a fist into my ribs. Pain shoots through me, but I twist free and slam my elbow into her jaw, making her head snap sideways before she comes back with a punch that catches me across the mouth.

Tasting blood, I hit her back.

We scramble to our feet, trading punches as the crowd around us grows. She’s fast. Really fucking fast. But I stay with her, meeting her blow for blow.

She throws a hard right at my head. I duck beneath it and slash toward her stomach, but she jerks back before the blade can connect. Her hand clamps around my forearm when I pull it back, and her knee drives into my abdomen, folding me forward as she wrenches my wrist sideways, knocking my knife to the pavement.

“Fuck.”

I throw my weight into her before she can reach it, and we slam into the side of a vendor’s table. Something crashes behind us as she grabs a fistful of my hair and tries to drive me down. But I hook my leg behind hers and take us both to the ground.