Page 17

Before I knew it, he’d licked me clean and breakfast was over.

Ozias ushered me upstairs to get ready for the day.

On wobbly legs, I dressed mechanically in a matching black crop top and maxi skirt that clung to my curves, my thoughts still swirling with the morning’s revelations and the fact that he’d tongue fucked me into submission.

I was just finishing up when he presented me with a red watch box with the gold Rolex crown in the bottom right corner.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” I inquired, hesitantly reaching out for it.

“Open it and find out.”

I cracked open the box to see a sparkling, diamond-encrusted rose gold Rolex watch with scattered pink gemstones around the dial. My eyes popped wide when I realized I was looking at, at least a couple of carats around the dial alone.

“Take it out and flip it over.”

I followed his instruction and flipped the watch over to see the inscription— en esta vida y en la próxima.

“W-what does it say?”

“In this life and the next.”

“I never knew someone like you was capable of saying something so beautiful.”

“I’m half Mexican and was raised here for most of my life. You’ll hear some of the most beautiful shit come out of my mouth.”

“Half?”

“My father is black.”

“Really?” I inquired, more enlightened than shocked. Having African American blood flowing through his veins verified his swagger and the length and girth of his dick. “I didn’t know that.”

His eyes dropped down to my bare wrist as he stepped forward to place the watch on it. “Now you do. You like it?”

“The watch or the fact that you’re half black?”

“Both.”

I cleared my throat before nodding. “The watch, yes. It’s beautiful. How’d you know pink was my favorite color?”

“You’re going to be my wife, mi amor . It’s my job to know everything about you. Besides the pink diamond studs in your ears, the pink sports bra and leggings set you had on when I had you delivered to me. I pay attention to detail.”

I clenched my thighs together. His confidence made my pussy drip. “What did I do to deserve such a reward? All I’ve done is kick and scream since you met me.”

“Consider it a wedding present.”

I fully expected him to try and kiss me or force himself on me in the best ways, but he didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he dipped his chin and turned on his heel.

“You’re welcome by the way,” he replied over his shoulder. “I’ll see you downstairs. Don’t take too long.”

A few minutes later, I heard two voices downstairs—a woman’s laughter mixing with Ozias’s deeper voice. Curiosity got the better of me, and I quickly made my way down to investigate while trying to give audience to their conversation.

As I descended the stairs, I saw Ozias standing with a beautiful young woman with brown skin who looked to be in her twenties, like me.

She had a slender, athletic build, with long legs that had her standing at around five feet seven.

Even with the three-inch heels on her feet, Ozias still towered over her.

Her skin was a few shades darker than Ozias’s warm, sun-kissed sienna brown complexion, but when standing side-by-side, there were parts of their features that favored, hinting at their shared DNA. Maya’s dark-eyed gaze was sharp and assessing as it landed on me.

We studied each other in silence for a few seconds, feeling each other out.

Two long spiral curls cascaded down the front of her oval face, framing it perfectly, while the rest of her hair was pulled up into a high, messy bun.

Her cocoa-brown eyes were filled with warmth and curiosity and framed by long lashes and thick, manicured brows.

“Ah, there she is,” Ozias declared with a hint of pride in his voice that made me want to scoff. “Maya, meet Demi Malone. Demi, this is my sister, Maya.”

Maya didn’t extend a hand or offer any form of greeting. Instead, she began to circle me slowly, her eyes raking over every inch of my body. I felt like a prized pony being assessed at an auction, and it made my blood boil.

“So this is the Chicago spitfire you’ve gone through all this trouble to marry, Ozias?” Maya asked, her voice dripping with snootiness. “She looks . . . soft. Like baby shit.”

I bristled at her words, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I assure you, there’s nothing soft about me,” I snapped back.

Maya’s eyebrow arched, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “Is that so? Because from where I’m standing, you look like a pampered princess who’s never had to fight for anything in her life.”

The words hit too close to home, striking at insecurities I’d harbored for years.

Before I could think better of it, my hand flew out, connecting solidly with Maya’s cheek.

The crack of skin on skin echoed through the foyer, followed by a stunned silence.

I stood there, breathing heavily, my palm stinging from the impact.

To my surprise, Maya threw her head back and laughed instead of assaulting me back. Her smile was joyous, revealing perfectly white teeth that lit up her face even in the midst of our pissing match.

She turned to Ozias, her eyes dancing with amusement as she chuckled. “Well, well, I stand corrected. It seems you’ve found yourself a bitch with thick skin after all. She’ll fit in with our family perfectly.”

Ozias’s expression was a mix of shock and maybe pride. I couldn’t quite tell, and I was too rattled to analyze it further. There I was, preparing to scrap with the bitch for playing in my face, and she was ready to invite me to their family reunion.

Maya rubbed her cheek, still grinning. “Come on, firecracker,” she said, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get you a wedding dress. I have a feeling this is going to be more fun than I thought.”

As she dragged me toward the door, I caught Ozias’s watchful eye. There was a heat in his gaze that sent a shiver down my spine—whether from fear or something else, I wasn’t quite sure. One thing was certain: The day was far from over, and I had a feeling it was only going to get more complicated.

The sleek black SUV glided through the narrow streets of the coastal town, a glaring difference to the pastel-colored buildings and antiquated storefronts.

I was wedged between Maya and Javier in the back seat, feeling like a prisoner being escorted to her doom.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I couldn’t help but recognize Javier as the man from the restaurant in Cancun.

I knew I’d felt an eerie feeling when I saw him, only to find out he’d been working for Ozias all along.

The realization that he’d been watching me through another man’s eyes made my skin crawl.

“Here we are,” Maya announced as we stopped in front of a small boutique. The sign above the door read Vestidos de Ensueno in elegant script. From the lavish gowns on the mannequins in the storefront window, I knew it was a dress shop.

As we sailed inside, leaving Javier a few steps behind, I was hit by the overwhelming scent of perfume and champagne. The bridal shop was a sea of white and ivory, lace and tulle as far as the eye could see. My stomach churned. Fuck me.

Maya immediately approached the owner, a petite Hispanic woman with graying hair, and launched into a rapid-fire conversation that was a mix of English and Spanish. Javier stood at the door, smirking at my evident confusion. I only caught every other word.

“What’s she saying?” I inquired, keeping my voice low.

Javier shrugged, his expression maddeningly neutral. “Just discussing your . . . requirements.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “My requirements? You mean Ozias’s requirements for his unenthusiastic bride?”

Before Javier could respond, a flurry of activity erupted. The owner clapped her hands, and suddenly, assistants materialized from behind curtains, wheeling out racks upon racks of wedding dresses.

“Jesus Jamal Christ,” I whispered, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of options. “This is crazy.”

Maya turned to me, her eyes gleaming with something that looked suspiciously like excitement. “Alright, Demi. Time to find you the perfect dress for your big day.”

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Perfect? For a sham wedding to the man who kidnapped me?”

To my surprise, Maya’s display of exposed pearly whites didn’t falter. “A wedding is a wedding, carino . And trust me, my brother spares no expense. You can hate it all you want, but you don’t have to be ugly doing it.”

She’d made a point I couldn’t argue with. As Maya began rummaging through the dresses, I caught sight of myself in one of the full-length mirrors. All I saw looking back at me was a caged animal.

“I won’t be your dress-up doll,” I snapped, even as Maya held up a particularly elaborate gown.

She raised an eyebrow. “No? Then what will you be, Demi? Because, like it or not, this wedding is happening. You can fight it every step of the way, or you can put on your big girl panties and find a way to make it work for you.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. She was right again, of course. I hated to admit it, but I needed to keep thinking strategically. If I was going to find a way out of this mess, I needed to keep playing the game . . . until I won.

An hour later, we were still sifting through a sea of wedding dresses, each one more stunning than the last. Still, nothing felt right.

But how could it be when everything about the moment was wrong?

Maya held up a delicate lace gown, and I shook my head with a frown.

It was beautiful, but there was something else on my mind.

If I had Ozias’s relative all to myself, I needed to make use of it and pick her brain for anything I could use against him.

I decided to stop pouting about my circumstances and seize the moment.

I glanced at Maya, trying to find the right words while she searched for another dress to try and wow me. “I always thought Ozias was an only child before today,” I said casually. “What was he like as a kid?”

Maya's eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had gone off inside her head. “Let me guess, you want me to dig back in my memory and pull out all the sentimental stories I have of him, right? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing like that to share.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ozias is my half-brother. We share the same father. We didn’t grow up in the same house together, didn’t celebrate holidays or birthdays together, and we damn sure didn’t have the same relationship with our father.”

“Why not?” I asked, ears burning to learn more.

Maya arched a questioning brow. “How much do you know about my brother?”

“Nothing. He’s so hard and guarded. Every time I think I’m seeing a softer side of him, it changes like the phases of the fucking moon.”

“Ozias is protective. He always has been, especially after losing his mother at such a young age. He felt the need to grow up early, be a man and shit.”

“How’d his mother die?”

Maya sighed. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this, but fuck it.

You’re about to be his wife. Ozias was born in Texas but grew up here in Mexico with his mother.

I didn’t come along until seven years later when our father married my mother.

By that time, Ozias’s mother had been dead for years.

She was murdered when he was really young, which obviously had a crazy traumatic impact on him growing up.

My mother died in a car accident when I was eight, so I get it. ”

“Mine died in childbirth,” I added, volunteering information about my past.

“See, so you get it. That shit fucks up a kid in ways not many people can understand.”

I nodded, understanding. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, fast forward; when I was thirteen, our father passed away from a heart attack. Ozias was twenty, and although they never had a good relationship, I knew he felt a way about the loss. That’s when he and I started to get closer.

He felt the need to step up and protect me since I was his baby sister. Y’know, typical big brother shit.”

My lips lifted in a half-smirk. I liked hearing about his softer side. It reminded me that there was still a human heart beating beneath the monster’s outer shell. I felt a sense of warmth filling me as I listened and learned more about Ozias’s tragic past.

“Thanks for sharing. So, do you live in Mexico too?”

“No. I’m only here for the wedding. I live in Texas.”

“Texas?”

“Yup. Just over the border. I oversee my brother’s pharmaceutical branches throughout the state and do some interior design work on the side.

It’s my true passion. But enough about me.

Let’s put the focus back on finding you a dress before your ceremony in a few hours.

What do you think about this one?” she probed, holding up a simple ivory gown.

I shrugged instead of turning up my nose.

Maybe one of the reasons I didn’t want to put in the effort of entertaining her was because the last person I’d gone dress shopping with was Samara.

It still hurt too much to fully unpack the fact that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call her.

But none of that mattered. I hadn’t seen my phone in days, and even if I had it, she was no longer around to answer.

“Might I remind you, Ozias will require you to walk down the aisle to him, whether you’re in a dress of your choosing or as naked as the day you came screaming into this earth. Fucking pick something already!” she demanded, showing her dark side.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” I said, reaching for the dress Maya was holding.

As I disappeared into the dressing room, I could practically feel Maya’s triumphant smile beaming on the other side of the door. Little did she know, I was already formulating a plan. The dress might’ve been for a wedding, but it was also armor for the war ahead.