Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Cristiano.” As he cupped a hand over his other fist and squeezed it, the tendons of his forearms went taut. “Did he hurt you?”
The fear and concern in his eyes made me go to him. He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “No,” I said. “He forced me to leave and brought me home.”
His fingertips dug into my hip. “I want to curse him and thank him all at once. He may have saved your life, but it was only so he could flaunt that in my face.”
“You’ve spoken to him?”
“Yes.” Diego looked up at me, his expression pained as he caressed my back. “First, just promise me he didn’t lay a finger on you.”
I nearly shivered remembering Cristiano’s threatening presence behind me in my bedroom. My thoughts as they’d strayed to the possibility that he’d unapologetically take what I’d saved for Diego. The way he’d held my wrist and provoked me with words to distract me from the pinch of the tweezers. His fingertips trailing up my leg, his grip on my upper thigh, his unusual reaction to hearing about my virginity.
I smoothed Diego’s brown hair from his forehead. It was no less silky for whatever trauma he’d been through. “He dropped me off,” I said. “That’s all.”
“Really?” Diego’s expression eased. “He never touched you?”
“Really.” I was surprised at the lie, but relief crossed Diego’s face for the first time since he’d arrived.
“I never should’ve taken you to the warehouse,” he said. “Being around me puts you in danger.”
Because my father had said the same to me many times, hearing that from Diego almost felt like a betrayal. I drew back. “That’s my choice to make,” I said. “Papá wants to send me home early, but I’m not leaving you.”
“When?”
“Sunday. He says we’ll go to Easter Mass, but the helicopter leaves before nightfall.”
“I’m doing everything in my power to get us out of this,” Diego said. “I need you now more than ever—you are my strength.” He glanced out my window, setting his jaw as if he were fighting himself. “But Costa is right. You shouldn’t be here. I’d never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”
“But you just said you need me.” I gritted my teeth to stem a fresh wave of tears, but not because I was sad. I hated that Diego and my father wanted me gone when this was the only place I should be. “I won’t abandon either of you.”
“This isn’t a game, Tali,” he said, looking back. “When the Maldonados come for me, they’ll come for us all.” He lowered his voice. “We owe them a lot of money.”
I would’ve had to be have been a fool not to know that, but hearing it sent chills down my spine. “How much?”
“Millions and millions,” he said quietly. “More than we can ever repay.”
I covered my mouth. “There has to be a way out. Can you borrow it from somewhere? Ask for more time?”
“Years wouldn’t be enough. Retribution is taken with a long arm and a firm grip. Not even Costa can protect us.”
“Then we have to leave,” I said, standing, ready to run the second he agreed. “Fuck this life! Just come with me.”
“I can’t.” He reached for me. “You know there’s nowhere I can run they won’t follow.”
I went to my closet. “Well, we can’t stay here,” I said, wrestling my suitcase from the top shelf. “Since when are we sitting ducks? Why not at least try to disappear? We can get passports and start over—”
“Please, Talia,” he said, rising from the bed. “Don’t pull away from me.”
He caught my elbow and drew me into his embrace. Cupping my face, he kissed the tears that’d escaped down my cheeks. “Forgive me,” he whispered, sliding his hands everywhere on my body. “I’m desperate.”
His hungry lips found mine, and I grasped his hair as he took my mouth. I arched into him, letting him walk me backward toward the bed. He untied my robe and slipped his hands inside to grab my ass. His kiss grew more feverish. This time, he didn’t stop it, as if sensing this might be the last time.
As that reality hit me, I choked back a sob but tried to hide my despair with a moan.
Diego wrenched himself away and strode to the other side of the room. “We can’t do this.” His hair fell forward, and he tucked it behind both ears. “My God, Natalia. You are so beautiful . . . but we can’t. I’m weak.”
“Then let us be weak together.”
He paced the room. “It was a mistake to let myself fall in love with you, but I could no more help it than I could growing older each day.”
My gut smarted as if his words had delivered a punch to my stomach. “You don’t mean that.”