Page 98 of Bad Blood
Legado shines like a diamond tonight.
The jewel in my empire of sin.
As we make our way through the crowds toward the Platinum Lounge, I lean in to graze Thalia’s ear with a heated promise. “I’ve decided to take another of your firsts later.”
She stops and turns, a question forming in her eyes.
Sliding my hand from her waist to her face, I press my thumb against her lips. “I dream of these, you know? Hurling insults... Wrapped around my cock…” Hooking my fingers under her chin, I force her to look at me—savoring her embarrassment like it was my finest bottle ofAñejo. “When this night is over, I want you on your knees in that dress,mi amada.You’re going to open this beautiful mouth and take me.All of me.And you’ll be looking up at me the whole time as I fuck my pleasure into you until the tears stream down your face.”
“Would you like me to beg for it?” she asks softly.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Over her shoulder, I catch my father staring at us from across the lounge. “Have a drink. Have three.” I say, my mood souring. “You’re going to need it.”
His stare is unwavering. Seconds pass like minutes until finally, he lifts his glass of tequila and nods.
A silent message...we’ll talk later.
Turning back to Thalia, who is now at the counter, I watch Monroe Spader sliding onto the spare barstool next to her. That fucking man is beginning to outlive his usefulness.
The bill has passed.
Sanders’s bar is a pile of dust.
Our business has concluded.
I watch as she offers him a polite smile.A fuck off smile.Only he can’t take a hint, pushing those black-rimmed glasses back up his nose as he leans in closer.
If he touches her, I’ll rip his arms off.
“Green is an interesting color on you, Santi.” I turn to find my mother has materialized beside me with a glass of my finest Malbec wine in her hand.
She thinks I’m jealous.
She’s right.
“She’s a Santiago,” I say grimly, taking her inference and turning it into something unpleasant.“She serves a purpose. Nothing more.”
Her thoughtful gaze travels back to the bar. “If you push people away enough, eventually they don’t come back.”
And so she fucking shouldn’t.
I make my decision, then and there. It’s time to let my firebird fly and see if she leaves me for heaven or sits by my side in hell. After tonight—after one more taste of her—that footage is hers.
“Santi.”
We turn to find RJ standing behind us. I’ve never seen him so tense. He gives my mother a respectful nod then turns to me with a grave expression. “There’s a man outside requesting to talk to you.”
Something in his voice makes me pause. There’s anger there. Pain… History.
“Go,” my mother says, stepping back, her eyes shifting to my father. “I’ll handle him.”
“Tell me,” I say, falling into step with RJ as we exit the bar.
“Ten minutes ago, he walked up to the security at the front entrance,” he clips out. “Unarmed and uninvited. He’s waiting for you by the front steps outside. We have thirty guns trained on him and his men as a precaution. Just give us the order when you’re ready.”
“That’s quite a welcome,” I say, shooting him a look. “Who’s the VIP, and why the fuck is he so deserving?”
“It’s Edier Grayson,” RJ says grimly. “He says he wants to talk.”
