Page 85

I glance around the crowded deck, then back at him through lowered lashes. "Perhaps I wanted to meet the man whosename I've heard whispered for years. The man even my father respected."

Dominguez's eyes darken with interest. "And your husband sent his prized possession to me?"

"I'm no one's possession," I reply, allowing my finger to brush against the vial, drawing his attention. "And sometimes... I handle matters that require a woman's touch."

"Such as?"

I step closer, close enough that he can smell my perfume. "Such as discovering if the rumors about Xavier Dominguez are true." I hold his gaze. "They say you're a man who appreciates true beauty... and opportunity."

Surprise and desire register briefly before he masks it and clears his throat. "You've certainly done your research, Mrs. Ravelli."

"Francesca, please," I correct him, biting my lower lip and batting my lashes. "And yes, I always prepare thoroughly before pursuing something… or maybe,someoneI want."

The invitation hangs between us, my words dripping with deliberate ambiguity. His gaze travels over me again, lingering on the blood vial nestled between my breasts.

"I find myself... intrigued," he says, fingers brushing my bare arm. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more private. My stateroom offers both discretion and... possibilities."

I tilt my head, letting my hair cascade over one shoulder as I pretend to consider. The vial swings gently between my breasts with the movement. "And what exactly might we discuss there, Xavier?"

"Whatever pleases you," he murmurs, his accent thickening. "Business... pleasure... perhaps both."

I smile, letting him guide me toward the yacht's interior with a proprietary hand that slides lower than necessary on my bare back.

As we pass a group of revelers, I catch sight of Dante on the adjacent yacht. Our eyes meet briefly, a flash of communication passing between us.

His expression remains neutral, but I feel the heat radiating from him even at this distance.

I'm in control,I silently communicate.Trust me.

Dominguez leads me below deck, his fingers never leaving my skin as we enter his private domain. Into the dragon's lair, where I'll either extract what we need or burn trying.

The Castellano princess my father raised would have been meek and terrified. The captive Dante first claimed would have been resigned.

But the queen I've become?

I feel only the intoxicating thrill of the hunt, the power of making men want what they can never truly have, and the certainty that whatever happens next, I return to my king with his mark on my throat and his blood against my heart, our ambitions one step closer to fruition.

I touch the vial nestled between my breasts, drawing strength from the blood oath as I follow Dominguez into a darkness lit only by opportunity and the fire in his eyes that I've so carefully kindled.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dante

I pace like a caged predator in the surveillance room ofThe Vengeance, my eyes never leaving the bank of monitors before me.

Every muscle in my body coils with tension as I watch Francesca work her magic across the water on Dominguez's yacht.

My queen moves with perfect grace. Each smile calculated. Each touch deliberate. The emerald dress clings to curves that belong to me, exposing skin that bears my marks to another man's hungry gaze.

"Zoom in," I command Marco, who operates the feed beside me.

The camera hidden in Francesca's diamond earring offers a perfect view of Dominguez's face as she leans closer to him. The Spanish shipping magnate's eyes darken with desire, his pupils dilating as she whispers something that makes him laugh.

The sound of his laughter scrapes against my nerves like a blade on bone.

"Sir," Vincent says quietly from his position by the door. "Perhaps you should—"

"Silence," I snap, not taking my eyes from the screen. "I need to hear every fucking word."