Page 107 of Guarded

I get the message. When he’s sure I’ve gotten it, he proves the agreement is valid.

“Thalia took her to the penthouse. I told her you’d be there as soon as we’re done.”

Toasty was notthe right word. When I get to the penthouse, Ariella is past the point of tipsy. Loud corridos sound in the background, and she’s dancing in the kitchen with a large cardboard cutout of Pedro Pascual.I hate that fucker.

“She’s all yours,” Thalia says, grabbing her bag.

“No, Thali- wait. Let’s have a sleepover. Like when we were little.” Ari begs.

“I can’t,” Thalia says, laughing as she stumbles to the door.

Ari grabs the bottle of Don Julio from the counter and chugs the last drop.

“Wait! We forgot to make a TikTok,” Ari shouts from the kitchen.

“Make one with Nero.” Thalia hollers back. I shake my head. That won’t be happening.

“Silas is waiting for you downstairs,” I murmur in an attempt to hurry her along.

“Good, he can wait some more.” Thalia finishes lacing up her heels and walks back to the kitchen to hug Ariella.

“Good luck with that.” She laughs while walking past me.

“Bye, Flaca!” She screams before opening the door.

“Bye. Love you!” Ari yells back.

“Love you too bitch!”

The door slams and Guapo comes running out.

“Ohh, my little baby,” Ari says, dropping to the floor and rubbing her face into Guapos.

She peppers him with kisses, and he licks them up. When she looks up at me, her eyes fill with excitement.

“Nero!” she squeals.

Leaping into my arms, she wraps her legs around my waist. I catch her. Bring her into me and holding her there tightly.

“Nero, look, I can cross it off my list. I met Pedro Pascual.” She laughs, pulling away from me and pointing at the cutout.

Is it weird that I hate a piece of cardboard? I know millions of men who would help me kill this dude. I don’t say that to Ari, though.

“That’s good, Princess. How was your night?” I move in and kiss her forehead.

“It was horrible.” She sighs.

Guapo comes running out of the back room with her thong in his mouth. Homie had a habit of eating through her chonies. I can’t say I blame him.

“Guapo!” she yells.

I set her on the counter and move to Guapo.

“Guapo, vente,” I command. “Drop it.”

He growls and shakes his head before surrendering the pink-laced thong at my feet.

My favorite, too.

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