Page 26

He pounds the door with his fist. “Isabella! I know you’re in there.”

I inhale sharply.

“Open it before I kick it in!”

My trembling fingers brush against the cool metal of the doorknob. I twist it open, and the evening’s sticky warmth rushes in to greet me. The smile I plaster on my face feels as brittle as praline, threatening to shatter under the weight of Juan’s scrutiny.

“Juan,” I greet him with feigned cheerfulness while my insides are a knotted mess of nerves. “What’s wrong?”

He stalks past me, walking into the kitchen. His head swivels from side to side as if he’s looking for something… or someone.

“Did something happen?” I ask, following him through each small room as he searches.

“Are you alone?” he demands.

“Of course.”

He glances into my bedroom before returning to the living room. I perch on the edge of the sofa, but he remains standing, towering over me. I instantly regret sitting.

“Isabella.” His voice slices through the tension like a knife, his silhouette darkening the room. He steps closer, the familiar scent of leather and dirt that clings to him permeating the room. Every inch he advances seems to squeeze the space around me, demanding submission.

“Busy day at the warehouse?” he asks, but it’s not a question—it’s an accusation. I’m acutely aware of how his gaze doesn’t waver from mine, sharp and calculating.

I can’t force my tongue to move. Frozen in place, I don’t know what to say because anything I come up with will be a lie, and I think he already knows it.

“Imagine my surprise when I came to check on you and you weren’t there,” he continues, his tone icy enough to send shivers down my spine.

I meet his gaze, willing my eyes to reflect nothing but innocence. “I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all,” I say, hoping my voice carries more conviction than I feel.

“That’s what Pedro said, so I rushed home to check on you. But you weren’t here, were you?”

“No,” I whisper softly.

“Where have you been sneaking off to?” Juan presses, stepping closer now. I can almost feel the heat of his breath, taste the danger in his words. His stare bores into me, threatening to see right through any lies I might dare to tell.

I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling the sting as I scramble for a story to keep Juan at bay. “I was visiting Camila,” I lie. “She’s had some trouble lately and she needed company.”

Camila’s a distant cousin. I doubt Juan keeps in touch with her since she’s not connected to the cartel. I’m hoping he buys my story without too many questions.

“What kind of trouble?” Juan presses, his voice razor-sharp as he prowls closer, the distance between us shrinkingwith every step. The air thickens with his suspicion, and the weight of his scrutiny is like an anvil on my chest.

“Sí, her mother’s sick,” I continue, fabricating details as I go. “You know how close they are. She just… needed someone.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, the deceit foreign yet necessary.

“Is that so?” His dark eyes dissect my expression, searching for cracks in my façade. “Tell me more about this ‘visit.’”

I duck my head, feigning humility, while my mind races for convincing particulars. “Her mom’s condition has worsened. I went over with somecaldo de polloand stayed awhile to make sure they’re okay.” I allow a hint of genuine concern to color my tone. In truth, Camila’s mother has been sick, so at least that’s not a lie.

“Caldo, huh?” He smirks, though there’s no humor in it. “Since when do you play nursemaid?”

“Since always,” I reply, meeting his gaze with all the sincerity I can muster. “Abuela taught me to care for those in need, remember?” I pray he doesn’t see through my thin veil of deceit.

“Listen to me, Bella,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “If you’re lying, if you’re sneaking around behind my back…” He trails off, letting the threat hang heavy in the air.

“I’m not,” I insist, holding my ground despite the tremor that threatens to betray my nervousness. “You have my loyalty, Juan. Always.”

“Good.” His breath fans across my face, hot and laced with the taste of power. “Because betrayal in this family comes with a price, one you don’t want to pay.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I nod, knowing full well the cost of disloyalty. With each heartbeat, the stakes grow higher, and somewhere deep within, I realize that my tangled web of lieshas just begun. I swallow hard, the taste of fear mingling with resolve on my tongue.