Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
He nods. “Makes a twisted kind of sense, doesn’t it? He would’ve had access to her. To the house. To Jacinto’s empire. No one would’ve questioned him. He probably cooked for the bastards who paid to hurt her.”
The words make my stomach turn. “So that’s it,” I say hoarsely. “It’s all in the family.”
“Yeah.” Vinnie’s voice is quiet. “Rot runs deep in that one. And that’s coming from me, a man whose family has skeletons in the closet that you can’t even imagine.”
I sink into the chair, staring at the notes without really seeing them anymore. I feel the walls closing in again, the whole picture shifting into something darker. It’s never just one evil man. It’s always a chain of them, each one passing the sickness down like some kind of perverted inheritance.
And Daniela’s out there right now, facing him.
Her uncle. And she doesn’t even know he’s her uncle.
The rage that rises in me is cold and clean this time—no shouting, no pacing, just an iron weight settling in my chest.
I look up at Vinnie. “You still think we should wait?”
His mouth opens, then closes. He looks away. “Yes,” he says finally, though his voice wavers. “Until Belinda’s safe. After that…we go.”
I nod slowly, even though every nerve in my body screams to move. To act.
Because if Daniela is with him, and he lays one hand on her—uncle or not—I’ll burn the world down to embers.
34
DANIELA
I jerk back the moment I see him.
Reyes is worse for the wear than the last time I saw him in my father’s office. He’s cut and bruised. One cheek sags where the skin is split and healing. His smile is still the same awful thing, all teeth, but it’s crooked now, as if someone rearranged it and forgot to put one side back right. He’s got that cocky tilt of the chin he always had when he thought he was in control, and for a second I almost expect him to pull out his repulsive dick and command me to kneel.
This is the man who taught me to fear all men. The one who taught me shame when I didn’t know the name for it yet. The betrayal, the humiliation, the way my body remembered things my brain was still trying to bury—all of it wakes up and floods my mind with images I’ve tried to forget.
In that moment I forgive Hawk.
I forgive him for everything he did to this man.
It doesn’t mean I condone violence. It just means I understand. I understand why a man would stop being patient when one of the worst men in the world is standing in front of him.
Reyes fills the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a pressed white shirt. No jacket, no tie. Just that calculating smile I’ve come to dread.
“Miss Agudelo,” he says softly, almost politely. “Right on time.”
I go very still. My heart doesn’t race. It hardens. Like a stone in my chest.
“Where is he?” I ask. My voice doesn’t shake. I’m proud of that.
He tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Who?”
“You know who.”
“Ah.” His smile widens, slow and reptilian. “The chef. You were expecting him?”
I narrow my eyes. “He’s the one who sent the message.”
“Was he?” He steps aside, gesturing toward the dark interior of the house. “Please. Come in.”
I don’t move. “I’ll stand.”
He gives a quiet chuckle. “Still stubborn. I see why Hawk Bellamy likes you.”
At the mention of Hawk’s name, my stomach tightens. “If you’ve hurt him—”
“Relax,” he says lightly. “I’ve hurt no one today. Yet.”
“Where’s Belinda?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, the girl. The starter, was it?” He seems to savor the word.
So he knows. Somehow he knows everything.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice low.
He studies me for a moment and then gestures toward a dilapidated porch swing. It hangs crooked, one chain shorter than the other. “Sit, Miss Agudelo. You’ve driven a long way. Let’s talk like civilized people.”
I remain where I am, jaw tight.
He sighs, almost theatrically. “You think defiance makes you strong? Strength, Daniela, is knowing when to yield.”
I brush the back of my thigh lightly. “Where is she?” I ask again.
“Straight to business.” He takes a seat and crosses his legs. “Very well. She’s safe, for now. But she’s not my concern.”
“Then whose concern is she?”
He smiles again, that horrible, easy smile. “That depends on you.”
I take a small step forward. “If you think I’m afraid of you, you’re wrong.”
“I don’t think you’re afraid,” he says calmly. “I think you’re exhausted.” He drums his fingers on the arm of the swing. “You’ve been running your whole life, haven’t you? From your father, from Vega, from yourself.”
His words hit harder than I want them to. I clench my jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough. I know you were raised in a house of monsters.” He stands, takes a few steps toward me, brings his face so close to mine I can smell his bad breath. “I know your father sold you piece by piece until there was nothing left but rage.” A grin cracks across his face. “I know about the girls, too.”