Page 57 of Dark Desires
His dad only chuckles, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You mean I can’t just drop in and speak to my own son?”
“It’s just… I’m busy.”
I glance past Omar’s dad, spotting two hulking men in suits just outside the office. Bodyguards? I glance over to Mario to see that he’s moved closer to me, as if anticipating danger.
Omar’s dad’s gaze shifts to me, and that smile widens just a touch. “And who might this lovely young woman be?”
I stand, not liking having my back to this guy. “Isabella,” I say, offering a polite nod.
His expression doesn’t falter, but I swear I catch the briefest flicker of something in his eyes. Recognition? Amusement? It’s hard to tell.
“Ah. A pleasure, Miss Isabella. I’m Christian de la Rosa.” His tone is light. He even winks as he speaks.
My heart skips a beat.Christian de la Rosa?De la Rosa isOmar’s father?
My brain scrambles to process this while Christian moves closer, his attention still fixed on me.
“I see my son’s law firm attracts the most intriguing clients,” he says.
“I’m not a client,” I reply, forcing a small smile. “Just an acquaintance.”
“Ah, well, my son has intriguing acquaintances then,” Christian says with a chuckle before turning his attention back to Omar. “Anyway, we need to speak, son.”
Omar stiffens, but nods. “Of course, Dad. Give me a moment.”
I blink, my brain catching up.Rose. That’s why Omar’s last name isn’t de la Rosa. He changed it, probably to avoid being associated with his criminal father. It all makes sense now and is also ten times more alarming.
Omar looks at me, his expression almost apologetic. “I’ll catch up with you later, Isa.”
I nod, forcing myself to keep it together. “Sure. It was nice meeting you, Mr. De la Rosa.” My voice comes out polite, though every instinct is telling me to get the hell out of this office.
Christian gives me one last charming smile. “The pleasure was mine.”
Without saying a word, Mario places his hand on my upper back and guides me out of the room.
As soon as we’re out of the office, the door shut, Mario leans close.
“We need to go. Now.”
The moment we’re in sight of the elevators, I exhale, realizing I’ve been holding my breath.
“Mario,” I whisper, gripping his arm. “Was that?—”
It’s a stupid question. I mean, who would it be—someotherChristian de la Rosa?
He nods, his expression grim. “Yeah. It’s him.”
“Do you think he… does he know who I am?”
Mario’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know for sure. But we’re not taking chances. Let’s get out of here.”
My mind is spinning, the pieces clicking into place. Omar’s warnings, his hesitations, everything suddenly makes sense. And now I’m caught in the middle of something so much bigger—and more dangerous—than I could’ve imagined.
The car hums along the quiet downtown streets. Mario’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his usual stoic demeanor barely holding together.
“That man,” I say, breaking the silence. “That’s the guy who wants to go to war with my family. That’s the guy who attacked the party.”
Mario nods. “Looks that way. And I can’t shake the feeling that his being there at the same time as you wasn’t a coincidence.”
