It was clear to me he needed to do this. There was nothing Cristiano couldn’t have if he set his mind to it. But I also knew Cristiano had to figure that out on his own—and I could help him get there.
“Not knowing the truth will drive me mad.” Frustration seeped into his voice. “But if I keep looking for it, I may go mad before I get there.”
“Then leave it,” I said.
He pulled back, his eyes finding mine. “Just like that?”
“Could you get hurt?”
“Tell me you don’t want me to, and I’ll promise you I won’t.”
I bit my lip to hide a smile, thankful for darkness to conceal my pinkening cheeks. “Will it hurt others?” I asked.
“Only those who deserve it.”
“Did those men tonight deserve it?”
“You tell me.” The silhouette of his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t need to explain where they meant to take Sandra and those girls—or what they meant to do.”
I’d seen the bound-and-gagged with my own eyes. I’d seen more these past couple weeks than I had in a lifetime, beginning with the inside of a sicario’s head. Papá had tried to keep me from witnessing the dark side of this world, and pretty much everything else—while Cristiano had made me watch him deliver death by machete.
Was he steeling me for things that may come my way? Our way? Protecting me by arming me? He’d put his body in front of mine more than once, and deep down I knew he would again if I needed him to. But if ever the day came that he wasn’t there, then what?
“My father and Diego never would’ve brought me along tonight,” I said.
“It was risky,” he admitted. “But such is life. The more you see, the less it will shock you if you ever encounter it. I can’t have you puking every time you see blood and guts, or this marriage will never work.”
My stomach protested, despite the fact that it was another attempt at a sinister joke.
“I wouldn’t have brought you if I wasn’t ninety-nine percent confident in my team,” he said.
“And the one percent?”
“One-hundred percent confidence is a death wish. And if you weren’t confident in me, you wouldn’t have come. Were you scared?”
I stared back at him. “Yes. But I won’t be as scared next time.”
“And even less the time after that,” he said with a nod of approval. “Do you see me differently now?”
I tilted my head. Contoured by shadows, his bicep flexed. I did see him differently. He had always been a man who could hurt me and innocent people. But now, he was also a man who could hurt others. Those who weren’t innocent. The ones immune to the law. Sinners to which God had seemingly turned a blind eye. There were plenty of those around who were never made to pay for their crimes.
I had a very powerful husband, not just in physique, but in dominion. His reach was long, far, and unforgiving.
If I’d learned anything from my mother, it was that behind every powerful man stood a stronger woman.
And if I’d learned one thing from Jazmín, it was that I could control a powerful man with my mouth—and not by telling him what to do.
Indecision warred on his face. The dark, hauntingly beautiful face that hid fears, grief, and heartbreak. I could tell with eyes like his that he’d seen things. He already knew the answer he was looking for, but he needed me to confirm it.
Would I let him suffer, or would I free him to pursue and conquer what ailed him?
I glanced at my hands and considered the best way to urge him forward. What came to mind was the universal currency around here—one we’d both been dealing in. Power, and it came in endless forms. “How much money do you have?” I asked.
His eyebrow rose at the brusque change in topic. “Enough,” he said. “And more coming in every day. You’ll never have to worry.”
I peeled back the sheet, put one foot on the ground, and then the other. After rising from the bed, I stepped softly until I stood before him. He followed my every move with bottomless eyes, willing me closer so he could suck me into his universe.
He’d come to me for help, vulnerable and fighting himself.
The real domination would be harnessing the kind of power he wielded. Using his own weakness to turn him against himself, against everything he stood for. I’d wanted that for a while.
But I wanted other things, too, and not all of it made sense.
Now that his walls had begun to crumble, I wondered if I could achieve the impossible feat of filling such a man’s voids and needs.
My more carnal desires surfaced, too, but what it all came down to was . . .
I wanted to get on my knees to see if I could bring the great Cristiano de la Rosa to his.