That’s when the door to the bedroom opens with a long squeak. I don’t move. Under him, my eyes widen. With his lips still at my throat, I feel his body give out from above me, and he covers my body with his full weight, sighing into my neck.
A feminine throat clears. “I can see you’re busy, boss man, but it’s like 11:00 a.m. and the old dude who keeps smiling at me silently over the dining room table is starting to freak me out.”
At that, he lifts his head, blinking down at me with his brows low in anger, eyes flashing. Then he whispers, “Fucking, Ling,” and reaches across to pull the covers over our naked bodies.
Completely unbothered by his nudity, he ignores Ling, sliding out of bed, and walks across to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The shower starts and pulling the sheet tightly across my breasts, I sit up to look over at her in the open doorway. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m fuming on the inside. I hide my anger well when I stare openly at her, and state, “Next time, you’ll knock.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, but she smiles. “Congratulations, Ana.” She raps her nails onto the polished wood of the doorframe, before raising her brows and uttering quietly, “You’re officially one step up on the food chain.”
Something about Ling is so odd, so peculiar, that I’m beginning to feel mildly uncomfortable.
Her lips twitch. “You always get what you want, don’t you, itty bitty pretty one?” She holds me immobile with her intense glare. “But you’ll never appreciate your winnings until you lose.” She straightens, moving to exit. “Prepare yourself.”
As she reaches in to shut the door behind her, I take in her parting words and my mind runs amok.
What the hell is she planning?
Still speculating what Ling meant by what she said, I miss the sound of the shower being turned off, only coming to my senses when Julius opens the bathroom door and steam billows out around his fine, tall frame. Rubbing a towel over his face, he drops it to the ground and catches me watching droplets of water sluice down his chest toward his abs.
I feel no shame, openly exploring him with my eyes. He is mine now.
When he throws the towel around his waist, I look up into his eyes with a soft pout.
He’s not a man of many words, my Julius.
He jerks his head toward the open door behind him, and I take the hint, slipping out of bed with the covers wrapped around me. As I shuffle past him, he hooks his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me close, looking me in the eyes and holding my gaze as he descends, pressing his lips to mine, feather soft. The hand at my neck squeezes as he pulls back, and it makes me realize that sometimes talking is overrated.
He runs his nose up the length of mine, and I close my eyes, taking in his warm affection. “You and me, babe.”
My eyes flutter and I reach up, running my hand over his chest to squeeze his shoulder, breathing out, “Yeah. You and me.”
His hand comes up to tangle in my hair, and he tugs gently, forcing me to expose my neck. “Treat you like a queen.”
And with those words, my body no longer welcoming his kisses, my brain warns me to calm down.
Take it easy. He didn’t know. He doesn’t know.
Gently removing myself from him, I take a step away and dip my chin. “He used to tell me that. He used it against me, that I was going to be his queen and I’d rule beside him.” I bite the inside of my lip, begging my stomach to uncoil. I blink up at him through a frown. “I didn’t want it. I don’t want to be a queen, Julius. Not ever.” My hand comes up to touch his stomach. “I want to be a nobody, a peasant. I just want to live free.” Again, I can see I’ve made him question who I am and what my motives are. But I’m just me, Alejandra Castillo. A woman who has been torn apart more often than put together. My broken shards are yet to be repaired. I’m not even sure they would fit together any longer. I scratch lightly against his abs. “Can you possibly begin to understand that?”
His eyes soften, and his lips twitch as he lets out a rough, “Can’t promise I’ll treat you like a peasant.”
A shocked laugh escapes me. “Yeah, okay, that might’ve been a bad example.”
His lips spread into a smile as his eyes take in my own. “Gorgeous when you don’t, but when you smile, baby…” His eyes shudder, and his fingers come up to tap the spot right over his heart. “Boom.”
I can’t help myself. I cup his cheek and run my thumb over his thick lips. “Same goes, cariño,” I offer gently. “Same goes.”
Turning his face into my hand, he kisses the center of my palm, and my insides swell with warmth, because Julius gives me something I have never had before.
Somebody I could love.
With more effort than I believe I can muster, I playfully push Julius away and, smiling, head into the bathroom to shower.
Ten minutes have passed, and when I step out of the bedroom, showered and dressed in more of Ling’s clothes, I pause in my steps at the sound of a female crying in earnest.
My heart begins to pound in my chest. It must be bad.
It would have to be to make a person like Ling cry like this. I thought her emotionless for the most part.
I hesitate just before the living room and hear Signor Falco speak softly. “Now, now. Don’t cry.” He’s kinder than I remember. “Come sit by me, Miss Ling.”
Huh?
I’m confused.
Why is Signor Falco offering Ling comfort? He doesn’t even know her.
But then, Ling sobs out, “I loved him. I loved him so much.” Her sob turns to a growl. “I would’ve done anything for that piece of shit. And he chose her.”
I step just inside the open doorway to find Ling seated by Signor Falco on the sofa with their backs to me. They haven’t yet heard or seen me. Ling’s hands are being held tightly in Falco’s, with her head is bent in only what can be described as pure anguish.
Julius spots me from his place on the opposite sofa and discreetly shakes his head.
I understand. Ling won’t like me seeing her like this, yet I can’t walk away.
Signor Falco looks from Ling to Julius. “It sounds like my Antonio was more complex than I had imagined.”
“He wasn’t complex at all,” Julius mumbles. “He just knew what he wanted. Didn’t have time for those he didn’t.”
Oh, wow. Ouch.
My chest aches for Ling, although she doesn’t deserve sympathy.
Julius’s insinuation is plain and simple, clear as crystal. Antonio didn’t want Ling.
Ling, too smart to have missed the message, snaps her head up and, with bubbling rage, booms, “He wanted me till she came along! She fucked everything up. And that boy of hers…” Her voice breaks as the anger fades and the sadness seeps into its place. “That beautiful boy of hers. He should’ve been mine. His baby should’ve been mine.” She speaks softly as if talking to herself. “After all the shit I put up with, I earned that baby.” Ling croaks out a furious, “He died because of her.”
“He died for her,” Julius shoots back. “Twitch died for Lexi. He died protecting her. There’s a difference.”
Ling turns to Signor Falco and barks out a harsh laugh. “The men in my company tend to lose their minds over women. In fact, it’s common for their brains to turn to shit. They lose all their sense.” She turns to glare at Julius. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled the same stupid stunt over your new little pet.”
“So what if I did?” he returns, quick as lightning. “What the fuck does it have to do with you?”
“With me?” she squawks in disbelief. “What does it have to do with me?” The croak in her voice is absolutely heartbreaking. “You’re my only friend, you son of a bitch.” Her breath hitches painfully. “You’re all I got. You fucking matter to me.”
As much as I don’t like Ling, that statement tears me apart, and I feel myself soften toward her in a way that could be deadly to me.
“Ling Ling.” I see Julius falter, clearly not expecting that response. It do
esn’t take a genius to see he cares about the poisonous viper in turn.
But Ling sets her anger on someone else. “Where were you?” she utters in deathly calm to Signor Falco. “His mother hated him. His stepfather beat them both. He was just a little boy.” She pulls her hands from his and snarls, “Where were you?”
“I was building an empire. Raising Antonio’s brother. And then I was blessed with a daughter.” Signor Falco sighs audibly. “If I had known…”
Ling stands, glowering down at him. “Well, you didn’t, because he clearly didn’t matter enough to you. You know, not being of the right fucking bloodline and all.”
It’s then that she spots me.
Coming around the sofa, she gets in my face, speaking in lethal serenity. “The fuck are you looking at, skank?”
I remind myself that she’s in pain, grieving for a man she loved all over again, and I can’t seem to get my fight on. Instead, I say quietly and genuinely, “I’m sorry for your loss.”