Page 22

I took a deep breath, considering my choices. Return to Chicago, to the life that suffocated me? Or stay here, in this beautiful, dangerous new world, with this beautiful, dangerous man?

“I need some time,” I said, clearing my throat before I changed the subject. “Have you heard any news?” I probed.

His expression shifted from mush to stone almost instantly, becoming more serious. “Your father has been putting out feelers, trying to locate you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my father. A month ago, his news would’ve filled me with hope, with the promise of rescue. Now, I was surprised to find myself feeling . . . conflicted.

“Oh?” I said, keeping my tone neutral, not wanting to reveal the turmoil of emotions swirling inside me. “Did you hear anything specific?”

Ozias studied me intently as if trying to gauge my reaction. “Are you sure you want to know?”

I nodded while internally bracing myself. “Yes. Tell me.”

As Ozias relayed the information, I found myself struggling to blur the man before me—protective, attentive, even loving at times—with the brutal cartel leader I’d been warned about, that I’d seen in action.

He wasn’t the monster I’d imagined in my nightmares, and I was no longer convinced that my father was the savior I once believed him to be.

“Demi,” Ozias said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “What are you thinking?”

I leaned into his touch, surprising myself with the action.

“I’m thinking . . . that if you knew what happened the last time I opened my heart to someone, then you’d know why it’s hard for me to look you in your face for more than a few seconds at a time.

That, and nothing is as black and white as I once believed it was. ”

Ozias’s dark eyes searched mine, though his expression was unreadable. “Mmm, very true. Your father claims he’ll get our marriage annulled,” he stated, his voice low and controlled.

I felt a sudden tightness in my chest. “Annulled?” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

He nodded, his jaw clenching. “So you can marry a Russian businessman.”

My chest deflated with a heavy sigh, and my shoulders sagged. Of course. Another chess piece for my father to move across his board of power and influence. “Let me guess, someone with deep pockets and useful connections?”

“Alexei Fedorov,” Ozias confirmed, his brows turning downward. “The mothafucka is known for his brutality, especially toward women. It’s pathetic how your father would willingly put you through something like that for his own gain.”

A chill ran down my spine. I’d heard a few whispers about Fedorov here and there at my father’s club. None of them were good. My stomach lurched at the thought of being handed over to such an animal.

“Wow,” I mumbled while running a hand through my hair. “And here I thought my father might actually be worried about me.”

Ozias’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “You deserve better than to be treated like a commodity, Demi.”

I looked up at him, really looking at him for more than a couple of fleeting blinks. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes, the tension in his strong posture—he was genuinely angry on my behalf. When was the last time anyone outside of my cousin Dominic had shown such concern for my well-being?

“It’s always been that way,” I said softly, more to myself than to Ozias.

“I’m the only child. I’ve always been at his will.

Jump when he says jump, marry who he tells me to marry.

It’s the least I can do for not being born with a penis between my legs and killing my mother in the process,” I said callously.

I turned back to the window, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape of Mexico City. The realization hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water: Ozias, the man who kidnapped me, was looking out for me more than my own father ever had.

“Maybe . . . maybe this is my chance to live my life the way I want to.”

I felt Ozias move closer, his presence warm and solid behind me. “And how do you want to live?”

I spun around to face him, my heart pounding straight through my chest. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a choice, and I wanted to make the right one.

My future depended on it. “I’m not sure yet,” I admitted.

“I think I’d like to find out, but I have questions. Questions I need answers to right now.”

Ozias arched a furrowed brow. “Ask away, mi amor .”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the answer to the question that’d been gnawing at me for weeks. “What was the point in marrying me?”

His expression shifted as he ran a hand through his short, dark hair before answering.

“Politically, it was a strategic move. The marriage ties me to your father’s allies and the Malone family. It created an alliance that strengthened my position within the cartel world.”

I nodded, having expected as much. But Ozias continued, his eyes never leaving mine.

“More importantly, it offers protection. Many of my enemies won’t dare move against me now, knowing that an act against you is an act against the Malones.

Your father may be . . .” He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“ Misguided in his treatment of you, but his reputation precedes him. The thought of incurring his wrath is enough to make even the most ruthless men think twice about fucking with me or my business. At least the smart ones.”

I processed the information, feeling a strange mix of understanding and disappointment. “So, I’m just a shield then? A human bulletproof vest for you?”

“No, Demi. You’re far more than that.”

He took a step closer, and I felt the warmth radiating off his body. “When I first proposed this arrangement, those were my primary motivations. But now . . .” His voice trailed off, and I noticed a vulnerability in his eyes that I’d never witnessed before.

“Now?” I probed, my heart skipping every other beat.

Ozias’s soft lips curved into a smirk. “Now, I find myself continually surprised by you. Your confidence, even in the face of danger. The compassion you show, despite the dark underworld you’ve been brought up in.”

A warmth spread through my chest as I listened to his words. “I’m not sure I’m as confident or compassionate as you think,” I admitted.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Oh, but you are, mi amor . You challenge me in ways I never expected. You bring out the best in me . . . and at times, I must admit, the worst.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, remembering some of our more heated exchanges early on. “I guess I do have a talent for getting under your skin.”

Ozias joined in my laughter, the sound echoing through the room.

It was a moment of lightness I never thought I’d share with the man known as ‘El Diablo.’ As our laughter subsided, I found myself studying him—the scars that marked his tattoo-inked skin, a testament to the violent world he inhabited and the intensity in his eyes that both thrilled and terrified me.

How did we get here? From captor and captive to . . . whatever this is now?

“You know, you bring out sides of me I never knew existed too,” I said, surprising myself with my openness.

“Is that so?” he murmured.

I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at the tension building between us. “I never thought I’d be capable of adapting to this world. Of finding the strength in myself I always knew I had but never thought I’d be able to fully show. At least not outside of the poker table.”

Ozias reached out, his calloused hand gently cupping my cheek. “You’ve always had that strength, Demi. You just needed the chance to show it off.”

As I leaned into his touch, I realized that for the first time in my life, I felt truly seen, not as a pawn in my father’s games, not as a prize to be won, but as myself.

And in that moment, with the man who was once my enemy, I realized I didn’t want a piece, a slice, or a half. I wanted all of him. Forever.

My hand connected with Ozias’s in a decisive grasp, slowly guiding his hand away from my face and down the center of my body before stopping at the top of my pussy. The intense thumping of my heart echoed through the otherwise silent room. It was so loud I was almost sure he could hear it too.

Ozias’s eyes popped wide with a look of surprise flashing across his face before it was replaced by something darker, more primal. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine as he cupped my pussy in his hand. “Oh, you want to play? I know what’ll get you out of those clothes,” he growled.

Before I could react, Ozias was on me. His large hand wrapped around my throat, not painfully, but with enough pressure to make my pulse race and my pussy cream.

He backed me up against the wall, his body pressed against mine, trapping me.

I should’ve been terrified—maybe even put up a fight.

But all I felt was an overwhelming surge of desire, hot, wet, and fucking urgent.

“Fuck me, O,” I growled, the words tumbling out before I had sense enough to stop them.

Ozias’s eyes popped wide then narrowed with heated intensity. “As you wish, princessa ,” he promised before his lips crashed down on mine and his hand snaked around my throat.

The kiss was rough and passionate, all teeth and tongue, a battle for dominance that left me breathless. His hand left my throat, sliding down to grip my hip, pulling me impossibly closer.

I tangled my fingers in his low-cut curls, tugging sharply at the roots. He groaned into my mouth, and the sound sent a jolt of electricity through my body.

“O,” I said with a gasp as he trailed kisses down my neck, nipping at my sensitive skin. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take . . .”

“Tell me what you want, Demi,” he demanded.

“You,” I managed to whisper. “Every drop of you.”

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure? There’s no going back from this.”