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This is escalating fast. Part of me wants to see how far he’d go before we’re even married, when I can still break things off without a divorce and too big of a scandal.

But we’re at his place, so I don’t control this location.

I know the place inside and out, but I only have the gun and knife I carry in my purse that’s in the living room.

I have nothing else to defend myself with like I do at my condo.

I don’t have my security team either. They’re staked out around my building.

I only have Santi outside in the car in the driveway. He won’t hear me scream.

I twist in my seat as though it’ll make it easier for me to see him, but it gives me enough room to jump out of my seat. I know I can’t beat him to the living room, but it’ll make it easier to fight him if I’m free of the chair. It also makes the chair a potential weapon.

What the ever-loving fuck?

I’m not just thinking about how to flee his house. I’m considering how to kill my fiancé if this argument gets out of hand. This is beyond any level of fucked-up I expected.

“Just because I won’t fight you about your mistresses doesn’t mean I’m not keeping a tally of your transgressions. Remember who needs who more, Domingo.”

I notch up my chin and stare down my nose at him. I won’t show a moment’s hesitation.

“This argumentative side of you is unappealing. I suggest you tame it before you say, ‘I do.’”

“If I’m so unattractive and unappealing, you can walk away.”

We both know he can’t. Neither can I, but he really can’t because his father can’t afford the war he started with papá .

“Once we’re married, you won’t be so brave. You think you can push me away, but you can’t. You sure as fuck won’t once both my rings are on your finger.”

He intends them to be a noose.

“I am my father’s daughter and my brothers’ sister. I wouldn’t forget that once we’re locked in a house together for good.”

Take that veiled threat for what you want, you gilipollas. Dickhead.

“You think too highly of yourself, Ana.”

“Next time you go shooting with Kiko and Lucho, ask who the best shot in the family is. Depending on the day, it’s mamá , Catalina, or me. And you can guess what that means, since I know you’ve seen papá and my brothers shoot.”

No one outside my immediate family would dare use those nicknames for my brothers.

It’s a reminder to him just how close we are.

I might warn him how well the women shoot, but he won’t be prepared for my mother or my sister—particularly my mother.

She’ll skin his huevos , fry them up, and serve his balls to him for breakfast before she guts him.

My mother doesn’t play when it comes to protecting her children.

My father’s had to keep her from marching into battle more than once.

He remains quiet, and maybe he’s realized he’s met his match when I mention mamá and Catalina. They both have reputations for being fiery Latinas. I’m considered the easygoing one in the family since I’m the baby.

“Help me clean up… Please. Then we can go to bed.”

It sounded like he choked on that “please.” He wants to be conciliatory, and it’s bullshit.

He gathers plates, and I take the glasses and empty salad bowl.

When I turn away from the sink, I realize he’s boxed me in.

The butcher knife is within reach when I steady myself against the counter. He’s gentle when he cups my cheek.

“We both got angry and said things we shouldn’t have tonight.

I doubt it’s the last time we’ll argue, but I don’t want to get to this point again.

I don’t want it to get ugly like this. Until tonight, we were both making the best of things.

I care about you, Ana. I’d rather make you happy than angry. ”

He brushes his thumb over my cheek. If I weren’t still fuming and now completely suspicious of our future, it would be sweet.

He didn’t apologize, and that didn’t slip past me.

But I won’t apologize either. I meant every word, just like he did.

We stare at each other until he leans in to kiss me. It’s familiar and not unpleasant.

It would be easy to slip back into the way things have been. It would be easy to go along to get along. It would be easy to release the sexual frustration I’ve felt since being with Esteban. It’s so tempting to just fuck for the sake of fucking.

I let him deepen the kiss as he wraps his arms around me. He cups my ass and presses my hips against his hard-on. I know the sex would be good if I wanted to have it, but I don’t. Not with him. When he moves to kiss along my neck, I place my hands on his chest and add a little pressure.

“I got my period yesterday.”

I didn’t. It’s not due for another few days, but he was away last month when I had it, so he doesn’t know how long it’s been. Not that I think he bothers keeping track. I just know that, unlike other men in my past, he refuses to have sex during it. I’ve used the excuse before.

“That’s all right.”

He continues to kiss my throat before taking my hand and trying to draw me away from the counter.

He wants me to blow him, and in the past, I would have.

I don’t mind it, even though I don’t love it.

There’s not a chance in hell I’m getting on my knees for him tonight.

Not on the floor or on the bed. It might feel empowering to know I have that much control over whether he gets off, but he won’t see it that way.

Not when he undoubtedly slides his fingers into my hair and pushes my head toward his dick, so I take him deeper.

There’s another niggling thought, too.

It feels wrong to be with someone after the way Esteban made me feel.

It wouldn’t be fair to any man since I doubt any other could live up to the pedestal I’ve put Esteban on.

Try as I might, I can’t deny there’s something drawing us together.

There’s something between us I’ve never experienced before.

It feels like a betrayal to be with someone else when I have these bewildering and conflicted feelings about him. The betrayal would be fucking Domingo.

“Arguing’s made my cramps worse. I don’t feel well now.”

I make my expression match how miserable I sound.

Domingo stares at me for a moment before offering me another kiss.

He stops with just that, and once again, it would be sweet if I weren’t still upset about the side of him I saw tonight.

Forget about Esteban for a moment. Domingo still said some fucked-up shit.

“Let’s go to bed, Ana.”

It doesn’t take long for us to get ready, brushing our teeth at the side-by-side sinks.

We climb into bed, and he tries to get me to lie with my head on his chest. I roll away and onto my side, but I compromise by reaching back for him.

His spoons me, and I exhale. It isn’t contentment like Domingo thinks as he kisses my shoulder.

It’s accepting I’m trapped in this engagement.

It’s Esteban I’m thinking about as I fall asleep.

It’s him I dream about, and I wake up aroused in the middle of the night.

It was the most vivid dream I’ve had so far.

I almost believe he’s the one wrapped around me, but the cologne is different.

I’ve woken Domingo before to have sex, and I could do that now.

I could tell him I went to the bathroom and realized I only spotted and didn’t really have my period.

I could fuck for the sake of getting off.

In the dark, maybe I could imagine I’m with Esteban instead.

I have to get my mind under control. These thoughts are completely pointless. Utterly futile. I need to stop.

What if I can’t?