Corruption is the key to success and I'm the collector of all debts.
The first time I laid eyes on my little flower, she was dressed up-a beautiful temptation wrapped in perfection that I wanted to own. Possess. To take away from the pseudo-perfect...
I DON'T KNOW why I told him that, but I'm relieved. The news has been nagging at me since earlier, like a tiny splinter that progressively gets worse as the hours pass.
My mother is plotting my death, something that isn't allowed inside of my social circle. First families don't kill their daughters. Instead, you love them and suffer them in silence.
You have no word or say. Nothing comes before having a flawless unifying appearance for your constituents to death.
But why now?
"I don't like it when you look unhappy." His voice pulls me away from my thoughts. "All you need to do is ask, and I'll fix it. Tell me what you need."
"You are nothing like I thought you'd be." My voice is low inside the car, my attention solely on him and not the world around us as his employees retake their posts and the ones who're in charge of Signio's well-being have disappeared to another section of his property.
Something that should worry me but doesn't. I don't care about him in the least.
And while Laura's blinded by pretty words and empty promises, I've always known he was just another opportunistic abuser. Another man like the one whose blood runs through my veins.
Armando exits the car, a chuckle escaping right before closing his door. I watch him as he comes around to my side, his natural swagger holding just the right amount of cockiness, and the smirk on his lips is maddening. In an amazing way.
In a panty-destroying way. He's enjoying my perusal while making me wait—not that I'm made to sit here for long—at the most thirty seconds pass when my door is opened and his hand appears in my line of sight.
There's not a single second of hesitation from me as I let him pull me out. No regret as he wraps an arm around my waist and keeps me flush against his chest, lips hovering over my temple. A tiny kiss, and I shiver. A firmer grip and I bring my arms up, wrapping them around his neck, something that without these high heels I'd never be able to do.
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Tipping my head back, I meet his warm eyes. They crinkle a bit at the corner with his smile. "Hello, Mr. Artetas."
"Hello, Miss Hernandez." The long fingers of his unoccupied hand embedded in my hair, pulling out the few bobby pins on the right side where a section was pulled back before wrapping them around his fists. "What did you think I'd be like? What did you know about me?"
"A woman has a right to her mysteries."
"Not when it comes to us."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." His lips kiss a path down the side of my face until reaching the corner of my mouth. "Now answer the question, Amina, my love. What did you know about me?" The way he's looking at me as if he already knows about my childhood crush makes me flush. It starts at my hairline and sweeps down in a telltale sign of my obsession. "Why are you blushing?"
