5. Five

The day was dragging, and my mother constantly talked about the wedding, and how beautiful it was going to be. "I thought you would be happier, mijo."

"Happy about what?"

"For starters, my father would have never allowed me to marry another woman."

I sneer in her direction, shoving away the slices of cake she keeps making me try. "Is that what you think? Sticking me with just any man would make me happy because he has a dick? "

"Language, mijito. I'm just saying times have changed. Your father is being very accommodating, considering it's still something seen as against tradition."

I stand from the chair. "Look, do whatever you want with the wedding. I don't care. I don't even wanna be in it, but I"m going to be, because it's important to the family. Maybe you should be the ones who are more appreciative."

Before she can stop me, I storm out the front door of the bakery. I'm glad to be away from the smell of flower arrangements and lemon and vanilla. It reminds me how real this all is. I"ll soon walk down the aisle with the man I hate most in this world, and he's not even the worst part. His family is the definition of vindictive. The more I am around them, the closer I feel to hell.

My father may have been a bad person, and Santiago may have been a monster, but Vincent Morales is the devil himself. I slip into the back of the car, yelling at the driver to take me home. I need to get dressed into something else. Something that doesn't have me smelling like frosting and my mother's awful perfume. An outfit my mother didn"t suggest I wear today.

My fingers slip between the openings of the button down and I rub the tips over the silk wrapping around my torso with the need to feel something pretty to help forget all the ugly around me. What I wear under my clothes is also another freedom I"d never let them take from me. It was also a part of myself I never wanted to forget existed. I hated having to hide it and occasionally allowed a little bit of the truth to peek through my clothes, hoping no one would notice enough to care.

If I could burn all these fancy suits that took up most of my closet, I would. How many masks would I acquire until they finally owned me?

The minute I'm home, I rush off to my room and yell at the driver to wait in the car. I never take too long to get ready. The thing that took the most time was putting on my corset, but I would only be changing my outer clothing right now, not ready to take a break from the comforting pressure and small boost of confidence it gives.

I put on a new shirt, making sure it's loose enough to cover what's hiding underneath. The lighter weight of the material allows my skin to breathe easier than the heavy suit jacket. I slide on a pair of black slacks to match the white dress shirt and fix my hair until I'm satisfied with my reflection. My shoe kicks at something on the floor as I"m walking back toward my closet and I pick up the rose that must have fallen out of my jacket. I got a new one today. It was left in the bathroom of the bistro I ate at with my mother. He was there. I should be scared but instead I was beaming on the inside when I saw the evidence of his short visit waiting for me. Does this mean I"ll get another?

A man might be stalking me and here I am welcoming it, saving his roses like they're cherished gifts. In a way they are. My family took everything beautiful from me and this man is slowly giving it back. I keep the rose enveloped in my closed palm as I grab a black lightweight bomber jacket with the other. I don"t know what possesses me to hold onto the rose but for some reason I"m not ready to let it go. I still hold the first one sometimes too. It has so much beauty left in it to enjoy, and just because it"s not as it once was, doesn"t mean it"s no good to anyone anymore. A random memory comes to me, so strong, I"m temporarily paralyzed from it.

"Leave it behind and let"s go," my mother says.

Stroking the injured wing of the bird, I cup my hands around its small body. "But it"s hurt, Momma."

"How do you expect to help it? You don"t know a single thing about birds and neither do I. Put it down before you catch some disease."

"I think we can help it if we–"

Yanking me to my feet by the hood of my jacket, she knocks the bird out of my hand. "I told you to put it down. Now run inside and wash your hands. We are going to be late for church."

After church, I sneak back outside to make sure the injured animal is still alive before placing it in our shed tucked in a box. I can"t wait to release it into the sky and watch it live again. The way everything should have a chance to.

My buzzing phone pulls me from my stupor and the message is from my cousin wanting to know if I"m still meeting her. Setting my jacket down on my bed, my fingers tap fast on the keyboard as I respond.

Me: I"ll be there.

After shoving the rose in my pocket, I tug on my jacket and it hangs loosely around my small frame. I"m already halfway down the stairs by the time I fully get it zipped. The driver is waiting outside and glancing at his phone, not bothered by how long I took getting ready. "Take me to Kryptonite. It"s a club on main street."

"Si, se?or." The driver doesn"t bother looking at me as I slip into the back of the car.

A guard appears out of nowhere, opening the passenger door. "I"m going along for the ride," the man says, getting inside the car. "You need at least one of us with you when going out alone at night."

So much for slipping out unnoticed. The only time I"m ever seen around here is when I"m doing something someone disapproves of. "Yeah, okay, whatever." One guard is at least easier to lose than two or three, and this one has no idea how fast I can be.

The driver shifts gears before pulling out of the driveway and heads in the direction I tell him to go in. Neither of us talk and I spend the drive watching everything move outside the window while stroking the soft petals in my pocket. I jump out of the car as soon as we"re close to the front entrance and slam the door shut. The guard steps out after me, following my every move. I hate how close he is. My throat tightens and the air grows thicker around me. "Wait for me out here," I command.

"But your father-"

"I don"t give a shit what my father ordered. The only one who"s here is me, and I"m telling you to wait for me outside and don"t move until I tell you to."

He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. "Yes, boss. I"ll be nearby if you need me."

The vibrant lights and crowd of people outside the door of the club has me inching closer. "Back of the line," the bouncer says to me.

I walk closer to him, putting my lips near his ear to mention who I am. He nods. "My apologies, Mr. Juventino. Go right in."

It"s easy to get into the high-end clubs when everyone knows who your father and fiancé are. I walk through the dark entrance, pushing my way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The lights and crowd of people become too much, making my head spin. I search the bar for Maria, but she is nowhere to be found. She is usually easy to spot in her bright dresses and the crowd of men that always seem to surround her. Resting my hands on the bar, I close my eyes, feeling the loud music vibrate through my body. A voice coming from behind me has me jumping where I stand. "You must be new here? I've never seen you before. I would definitely remember if I had."

"Is that so? Surely there are tons of people in here you have never seen before." I turn around and meet the dark eyes of a tall man with dark blond hair. His nose is slightly crooked and the wider he smiles, the more my stomach shifts. Something sinister rests between the crack of his lips, along with a terrifying promise seeping from the corners. It"s obvious he"s a man who"s used to getting what he wants when he wants it.

Overtaken by a wave of nausea, I move past him. He grabs my arm, preventing me from going too far. "Where are you going? At least let me buy you a drink first."

I shake my head, staring at his grasping fingers with disapproving eyes. "I can buy my own drink."

Yanking my arm free, I step around the bar stool I was leaning over to grab the bartender's attention. A hand slides onto my shoulder and a warm body presses to my back. "I always did appreciate the guys who played hard to get."

I cringe when the heat of his breath tickles my ear. His hands remain on me no matter how much I attempt to shake them off. "Look, I'm not interested, and I'm meeting someone here."

"Are you now? Is it your boyfriend?"

I sigh, nodding my head. "My fiancé actually, and he will be here any minute. So, if I were you, I would back the fuck off." I step out of my chair after grabbing my beer, but he pulls at my arm.

"You shouldn't talk to people like that, you know. Either apologize, or make it up to me another way."

He lightly wraps his cold, clammy fingers around my neck, forcing my head to tilt back. I nearly drop my drink when he swipes his tongue across my cheek. "Let me go!" I yell but the loud music nearly drowns me out.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you may end up regretting the day you were born," a voice says from behind me. It's deep, strong, and goes straight to my dick. I know that voice. It shouldn"t have this effect on me but it does. I haven"t seen him since the party but it didn"t stop me from thinking about him or keeping his roses.

Why would I care? I don"t know him. It doesn"t stop a part of me from wanting to. What would it feel like to have those strong hands on me and those lips touching more than my ear? A shiver runs up my spine. Instead of fantasizing about this man, I should be questioning why he"s here. Is he following me? Do I make him as curious as he does me?

The blond man releases me and turns around. "Oh yeah, and who the hell are you?"

The mystery man punches the creep hard in the face, making him crumple to the floor. He delivers a few strong kicks into the man's stomach causing him to curl into a ball. "The man who will drain the blood from your body if you touch him again."

The blond man struggles to get off the floor and my eyes lock with the mystery man"s dark ones.

"I'm sorry I'm late, baby." He kisses me on the cheek, resting a hand on my hip. His lips are warm and the weight of his hand is more comforting than it should be. Holy shit balls. How can a stranger"s touch feel so heavenly? What"s even happening?

"That's okay," I say, sneering at the man on the floor. "I'm sure you will make it up to me somehow."

His lips brush over my ear. "Try to be more careful, Mateo. Next time you might not be so lucky."

"Thank you, but I could have handled it myself."

He laughs and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My heart rate is off tempo and so loud in my ears, it overpowers the club"s music.

"People like you don't belong in places like this. Run back to your tower behind your metal gates where it"s safer," he says. His eyes hold onto mine, causing my breaths to shallow.

By the time I"m able to finally open my mouth to speak again, he pulls away and disappears into the crowd. I stand there motionless. Someone tugs on my arm and I meet Maria's eyes.

"There you are, primo. Where the hell have you been this whole time?"

I swallow hard, glancing behind me, noticing the creep from before is nowhere to be found. At some point, he got up and left. A small part of me wishes he would come back so I could see if the alluring stranger would return.

"Nowhere," I whisper in her ear. "Let's go get you a drink and then you can show me your moves on the dance floor."

I never stop looking for the man who saved me. When I dance to my favorite song, I pretend I'm moving for him, and that he is out there somewhere watching me with those same hungry eyes from before. How many times is he going to keep randomly showing up and why am I wanting him to? I should be worried or scared but all it does is excite something inside me. I don"t understand why. Now is not the best time to go searching for answers. Not when my father and Santiago are currently at war with a lot of people. I"ve been treated like glass for most of my life and this man is a taste of danger my body suddenly hungers for.

Maybe because his surprise visits aren"t on any of my mom"s calendars or my father"s daily lists and he"s the complete opposite of my fiancé. Santiago is clean shaven in fancy clothes all the time. The mystery man is rugged with hair covering most of the bottom of his face, and he wears jeans and casual tops under his blazers. He has on a different pair of sneakers today, and something about them is much sexier than any boots or loafers I"ve seen men with expensive tastes wear. He goes against all plans and it"s a breath of fresh air. I wanted to inhale deeply the last time he was in my proximity, tempted to hold my breath until I suffocated.

No way is he purposely following me. He"d be signing his own death warrant by doing so. Three times he managed to slip under my father"s and Santiago"s radar. It wasn"t something I thought would be so easy to do but he made it seem like a cakewalk, so confident and sure of himself every time he got way closer than he should.

The feeling of needing to stay away is strong and alarming. It"s also the main reason I don"t want to. I"m so fucking tired of doing what I"m supposed to do all the damn time. It"s exhausting to constantly be what I was taught, when everything that sounds wrong promises to break me free from my chains and set me free.