Page 46 of Bad Blood
She’s quiet for a moment, her heart thumping wildly beneath my palm. “You still don’t believe I had nothing to do with the attack last night.”
It’s not a question.
“The word of a Santiago means nothing to me.”
“And the promise of a Carrera means nothing tome.” Raw hate flares in her eyes, turning the warmth in my chest into a goddamn inferno. “You’re a bastard.”
“And you’re soon to be fifty thousand dollars richer. So, what does that makeyou,señorita?”
I may as well have struck her. As my words sink in, Thalia visibly deflates—any lingering boldness dissipating in a cloud of truth and deceit. Nobody likes having a mirror shoved in front of their face—especially when the reflection isn’t pretty.
“I need to get out of this room, Santi,” she whispers. “At least let me go home and offer up an explanation to my—”
“Do I look like a fucking moron to you?”
“They’ll be looking for me. They’ll trace me here, and when they do—”
“Let them come.” My challenging tone is as dark as a starless Mexican sky. “You won’t be the only thing I take from them. It’s only a matter of time before New York is mine as well.”
The moment Thalia says, “I do,” I’m lighting a fire under Monroe Spader’s ass. If Grayson thinks he can keep me out of New York, he has a surprise coming.
Regardless of what he might have planned.
For the second time since she stumbled through the doors of my office, my bride-to-me drops the queen bitch act. That scorched gaze dims, only to be filled by unshed tears. “Please…” she chokes out, pressing her hand against my chest. “I know you—”
One touch.One simple touch sparks a deadly live wire. My skin sizzles under my shirt, the pressure of her hand burning a permanent tattoo on my chest.
Everything distorts.
Wrapping my fingers tightly around her wrist, I pull her hand away and slam it against the wall above her head. “Don’t. Touch. Me,” I growl, my voice razor-thin. “Don’tevertouch me without my permission.”
“I’m s-sorry,” she stutters. “I didn’t know.”
How could she?I’m the heir to a cartel empire. I don’t explain myself to anyone.
I need to get out of here.
Twisting around, I drive both hands into my hair as I stalk toward the door.
“Santi…”
I pause with my back to her. I don’t acknowledge her, but I can’t seem to walk away either.Stuck in fucking limbo—as usual.
“What’s in this for you?” she asks softly.
“What’s in this foryou?” I counter, flinging her own words back at her. “What does my fifty grand buy?”
Neither of us answers.
“Be ready in an hour.” I turn to leave. “I’ll have Svetlana bring makeup and a brush and whatever the hell else it is girls need to look presentable.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then you’ll need that black veil after all,” I warn, locking the door behind me.
Chapter Fourteen
Thalia
