Page 77 of Bad Blood

“And throw out that Day-glo bullshit she smeared on her face for the wedding. Buy her some classy makeup and a new dress. What else do women need to feel secure?”

“Freedom,” she says flatly.

“So just the spaghetti then.”

A low chuckle rumbles on the other end of the line just before I end the call.

Fucking women.

Speaking of women…

Spader was already in my office waiting for me by the time I made it back from Newark. I didn’t get the chance to speak to her but judging by the pinched look on Lola’s face as I rushed past her desk, I didn’t need to.

The fire burning in her blue eyes said it all.

Spaghetti won’t cut it with my sister. If I hope to have any sense of peace in a life that’s already imploding, I’m going to have to swallow my pride and apologize.

Apologize.

Cursing under my breath, I stride across my office and open the door to find that my two worlds have collided, spewing twisted wreckage and brunette-infused gasoline across every inch of the executive lobby.

Thalia sits perched on the edge of a chair, while my sister rests against the side of her desk like the queen of the damned. They’re deep in conversation, and although I can’t make out their words, I have a pretty good idea who’s the topic of their conversation.

The pinche cabrón who let time get away from him, only to have it bite him in the ass.

Women talking is never a good thing. But twoCarrerawomen in deep discussion? That’s a Molotov cocktail.

I clear my throat, and a set of bright blue eyes swing my way.

“Santi…” Lola flashes me a lethal smile. “We were just talking about you.”

“I’ll bet.”About which common household cleaner can be used to induce a cardiac arrest?“Thalia… My office. Now.”

She doesn’t budge.

“I said,now.”

Flashing me daggers, she slowly rises to her feet. Before she can take a single step, Lola clamps a hand around her wrist. “Your wife is not a Cocker Spaniel, Santi. Try again.”

I grit my teeth. “Please.”

I’m going to demote her to toilet attendant after this.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Grinning, she releases Thalia’s wrist and flops back down into her own chair. “You two kids have fun.”

Turning on my heel, I stalk back into my office before I throw something at that grin and knock out a tooth. By the time the door closes behind me, I’m already pacing. I’m pissed, and it’s not just because Lola challenged me in front of Thalia.

It’s because I wouldn’t put it past my new wife to try and draw my sister into her corner.

What just happened out there was Lola being…well, Lola. I’d planned to tell her about my marriage.Me.Her brother. It wasn’t Thalia’s place to cross that line.

Thalia…with her long dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun that’s somehow classy in its chaos. Thalia…her face fresh and beautiful with only a hint of color on her lips and lashes. Thalia…in tight black jeans showcasing her long legs and another dick-tease white T-shirt.

“You don’t need to worry,” I hear her say. “I played my role, but your sister isn’t stupid. I had to be honest about us—”

“Us?” Pausing mid-pace, I cock an eyebrow at her.

In response, she gives me the look of a woman who has spent the last twelve hours plotting my painful demise. “Don’t worry,husband. Lola already knows her brother is apinche sangrón.”