Page 126 of Resolute

Owen takes advantage of my grogginess and lands another punch, this time to my stomach, and all the air leaves my lungs.

The ref awards the second round to Owen.

“And here I thought Vicente was tough. It turns out he’s just another new rich idiot who thinks he’s on the same level as us royals,” he taunts.

I laugh at his comment. He’s not a noble—his wife is.

“You know you can be a funny lad, Owen? You only invoke royalty when it’s convenient for you. So tell me—are you mad you married into it, or are you proud of it?”

Owen tries to make me lose my footing, but I recover quickly and bring him down with me. Since I’m taller and have more body mass, I easily put myself on top and hit him over and over on his jaw. Left, right. Left, right.

The ref steps in, forcing us apart. Once we’re both on our feet, I lunge at Owen and land a brutal hit to his temple, knocking him out cold.

The moment the ref declares me the winner, I raise my hands and look down at Owen, the man I once thought was my best friend, now nothing more than a wanker.

Good riddance.

“Oh my goodness, where were you? What happened?” Camila rushes to look at me up close the moment I get home.

“You should see the other guy.” I try to joke but immediately wince in pain. Owen really did a number on my face.

“Vicente, this isn’t funny. What happened?”

When I see the panic in Camila’s eyes, I immediately feel bad.

“I needed to have one last conversation with Owen.”

Camila’s face falls, and I feel like a prick.

“You’re lucky Ava wanted to spend the night with Mrs. Evans. Imagine the horror on her face if she saw you like this,” she says, grabbing my hand.

I don’t fight her. I’m too tired.

I follow her to our bathroom, where she pushes me down on her vanity chair.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I know this is not the way you wanted to see me either,” I rush to say. I don’t want her to think I’m a barbaric arsehole.

“What were you thinking? Owen is in the past, we’re leaving tomorrow,” she says defeated.

I feel like an arse. “I know, I know,” I say as I release a breath. “I just wanted to punch him one last time before we left.”

Now that I say it out loud, it sounds childish and stupid, but what’s done is done.

Camila chuckles, and when I look up at her, she’s shaking her head with a beautiful smile on her face.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she says, leaning in as she pats my bruised lip with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol.

I wince in pain, and she immediately kisses the spot.

Pulling her closer, I guide her to my lap, and she straddles me. I moan at the contact of her core with my growing erection. Damn, this woman fires me up with a mere touch.

“Wait, I need to finish cleaning up your wounds,” she says as I trail kisses down her neck.

“Later. Having you will make me feel better faster.”

Overlooking the way my abs scream in pain as I lift Camila and place her on the counter, I make quick work of removing my pants and briefs.

Camila removes her panties and lifts up her dress.

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