Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Santos lets out a deep, animalistic growl and drags his gaze from me to where she’s touching him. Without a word, he manages to communicate to her to get the fuck off him, and she quickly retreats.
“I’ll stay,” Caius says, coming up to Santos. “You take a fucking breath. Get it together, brother. We’ve come too far to blow it now.”
Santos looks over at him. “Fuck them.”
Caius shakes his head, glances at me, then looks back at his brother. “Take her. Get out of here. Do whatever the fuck you need to do to get your head on straight again. We have another one of these to get through tomorrow night and another one the night after that. You can’t lose your shit.”
Santos’s jaw tightens.
“He’s an asshole, I get it,” Caius says. “Go. Take care of your wife. I’ll take care of things down here.”
“Fine,” Santos says with a sigh.
“Let’s go,” Caius says to Ana, taking her by the arm and marching her out without another word.
22
Santos
“Who are they?” Madelena asks when we’re finally back in the penthouse. I only half hear her because my mind is still on what took place downstairs. Camilla’s comment about being neighbors—what the fuck was that?
But it’s Caius I’m thinking about now. He lied to me. Caius has a tell when he lies. I have observed it in him time and time again. He tucks one hand into his pocket and cocks his head in the opposite direction, his stance that of a fully relaxed man. Except that the hand in his pocket is a fist.
But why would he lie to me?
Two guards stand outside in the hallway while Val and another are inside. There’s no reason for anyone to come up here unless they are guests of the penthouse, which takes up the entire floor. To even access this level, you need a special key to the elevator—which is great but also may not be my smartest move. If we are attacked, we’re backed into a corner and I don’t trust Thiago or his family not to attack.
I tell Val to arrange another hotel and car and tell him we’ll be ready within half an hour. Because there’s one thing I need to take care of now before we go.
“What’s happening? What are you doing? You’re hurting me!” Madelena tries to shrug free of me, but I only release her once we’re through the bedroom and standing in the large bathroom.
“Get undressed, Madelena,” I tell her, removing my jacket and setting it aside before rolling up my sleeve and switching on the taps in the large, freestanding bath in the middle of the bathroom. Once the water is to temperature, maybe a degree or two hotter than comfortable, I plug it and dry my hand on the towel.
“Why? What the hell, Santos?”
Steam rises from the tub, and I turn to find her standing with her back against the vanity, watching me. “I’m not doing anything or going anywhere until you tell me who they are.”
I spin her around to unzip the dress.
“Wait. Stop! What are you doing?”
I push the dress down over her shoulders, past her hips, and listen to the whoosh of the layers as it slips to the floor. I look her over, not sure what I’m expecting. Camilla and Liam wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt her. But they did touch her, and I need to get their filth off her.
“Santos! Talk to me!”
She keeps her hands on the counter as I strip off her panties so she’s standing just in her high heels. I meet her gaze in the reflection of the mirror, her body bared to me.
A weakness.
The things we care about, we’ll do anything to protect.
I shake my head. We’re too vulnerable here. “I need to get their stain off you.”
“What?”
I point to the tub. “I can’t have their touch on you. You don’t know them.”
“You’re being crazy.”
“Get in the bath, Madelena,” I say hoarsely because she doesn’t know the Avery family. If she did, she’d be scrubbing her skin raw.
I’m not sure what she sees in my eyes but after another moment, she slips off her shoes and steps in. I take hold of her arm to steady her as she hisses at the heat.
“It’s too hot.”
“It’s fine. You just need to get used to it.”
“Santos—”
“Get in. I mean it,” I tell her, hand heavy on her shoulder.
She sinks down onto her knees. The water is only a few inches deep and I look at her there, with her hands on her thighs, nipples tight, toes curled under, and her hips just resting on her heels.
I swallow, walk around the tub, taking her in. Seeing her like this, naked and kneeling, stirs something inside me.
Her gaze follows me, and I feel every bit the predator she must sense. I roll my other sleeve up as I complete the circle, then settle on the wide edge of the tub at her back. The only sound is that of the water as I tear the bar of soap out of its packaging, smear some on the loofah, and begin to scrub the Avery twins off her.