Page 169 of Desperate Actions

Santos has no idea who I belong to.

Or what’s coming for him.

“Oh, princess. Don’t you see?” he leans in, his breath hot and foul against my cheek.

“I already won.”

I don’t flinch.

Even when his cold, calculating gaze roves over me, inspecting me like I’m some kind of fucking puzzle.

I hate being under his scrutiny.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, a slow smirk twisting his lips. “What does he even see in you? years we fought side by side and he never once went home with a broad. Never paid for a sex worker like the rest of us. I thought he was a fucking monk. Then he comes back from Vegas withyou.”

His voice drips with mockery, with disgust.

“I read your file.”

His hand grasps my chin, tilting my face up.

“You’re cute.”

His fingers dig in.

“But nothing special. Too thick for my tastes.”

My stomach twists.

He leans in. His grin widens.

“Maybe that’s it. Maybe I just haven’t had atasteyet.”

And then he lunges.

His mouth crushes against mine, rough and violent.

I scream, thrashing, but he only tightens his grip.

He thinks I’m weak.

But I’m not.

I bite down on his lip. Hard.

The taste of copper floods my mouth.

Santos howls. But he releases me.

Blood dribbles down his chin.

And I spit the remainder in my mouth onto the floor.

He rears back, eyes wide with rage.

“You fucking bitch!”

The slap comes fast, hard.

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