Page 116 of Falling for the Enemy

But before I can take a step in her direction, Alejandro’s grip on me tightens. “Give her space, Hermosa. She needs it.”

Knowing he’s correct, I nod.

“You’re right, let’s—”

“Pizza!” Nikolai throws his arms up, dangerously close to throwing a full-blown temper tantrum. “Who wants it?”

“Oh my God,” Anna grumbles before heading toward my enforcer. “Children. That’s exactly how men behave.”

At sixteen, Anna is wise beyond her years.

I sigh, and with one last look of longing in Mina’s direction, I reluctantly gesture toward the hall that leads to the stairs.

“Let’s go get pizza, da.”

A soft sigh escapes my lips when Alejandro gently picks me up and holds me against his chest, allowing me to snuggle against him. The embrace is as familiar as it is comforting, as well as the one place I wish to always be.

In his arms, I’m home.

THIRTY

Alejandro

ONE MONTH LATER

A whole new war is coming.

The hunch is one I feel bone deep as I stand inside our bedroom, watching her through the glass that leads to our balcony. Hair down, feet bare, and with the setting sun silhouetting her curvy frame, she’s never looked more beautiful.

Or pissed.

Eyes narrowed dangerously, she’s leaning back against the marble ledge, her lithe arms crossed over her chest. Tapping a manicured nail against her bicep, she looks seconds away from charging inside and coming for my head.

All because Benito ran his mouth.

One day, I truly will kill the cabrón.

Blowing out a breath, I make the choice to join her and face the music, or if she so decides, the axe that she’s likely tempted to swing at my neck.

My hands clench into tight fists as I step outside, leaving the glass door to shut on its own behind me. Senses on high alert, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

I need to diffuse this.

If I don’t—

“Tell me, Mr. Santiago, where do you want it?” A venomous smile etched in place, she saunters toward me, her hips swaying provocatively with each step, enchanting me and hardening my cock.

The little witch knows what she’s doing.

I lift my chin. “Where do I want what?”

Stopping in front of me, she palms my stomach, then drags her hand up my chest and to my neck. “Your chip.” Her fingers tighten around my neck, and I nearly laugh. I’d be a fool not to fear her, but if she thinks she has the strength to choke me, I’ve got bad news. “Since I bear yours, it seems only fair that you bear mine, da?”

Circling her wrist with my hand, I pull her fingers from my throat. My lips find her knuckles; just as they always do. “Is that what you want? Because if so, just tell me.”

She doesn’t answer me with words.

Instead, she picks up a fluid-filled syringe from the balcony table, the very one I’ve fucked her on more times than I can count, and makes a circular motion with it.

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