I press my cheek to Sir’s chest. I never thought I’d touch him again, feel his arms around me, or breathe in that sharp, spicy masculine scent. I love him. There’s no question about that. I can’t exist without him. But a part of me worries what my life will be now, knowing I can never go home. I can never see Dimitri or visit my favorite city. I can never set foot on US soil again without being tried as an accomplice for sex trafficking, and will Ares stop now? Or will I be forced to stand by and watch him take other girls, fuck other girls and men in front of me? I know I could never condone it, but will I stand by and allow it to happen, turn a blind eye because living without him means ripping my heart right out of my chest for a second time? Living without him is not an option.
“We’re here.”
I lift my head and peer out the window at the tall iron gates. “Here?”
“Home.”
“Home.” I roll the word over my tongue. Has anywhere ever felt like home before? I suppose at some point the house I grew up in was, and then my apartment with Parker. It’s strange that I remember so little of my life before, and when I attempt to forge the fragmented pieces into one, nothing fits right. Not like it does when I kneel at Ares’ feet. Not like it does when I submit to my Sir.
We drive onto the property. The house looms up in front, but it’s not a house, not by a long shot. It’s a palace, high on the hill above San Miguel de Allende with a rich terracotta façade, ornate fixtures, and more terraces and balconies than I can count at first glance. A chill breaks over my skin long before the driver opens the car door. I slide off Ares’ lap and exit the car, my legs protesting the long flight and drive.
A tiled mosaic over the front door depicts a woman against a night sky wearing a dress made of stars.
“Casa de La Estrella,” I read the script under her image.
“House of the Star,” Ares, whispers. “Estrella was my mother’s name.”
I inhale a deep breath, unprepared and totally taken aback by this new candid version of my Sir. “Is this where you grew up?”
“No.” He shakes his head and presses his hand to the small of my back to usher me forward. “My father’s estate is much, much larger than this.”
“And what does he do?”
I expect him to silence me the way he always does when I ask too many questions, but he just grins and whispers, “Nothing good.”
I swallow hard and step over the threshold.
Like father, like sons.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Pet
Iwake to a loud smashingsound and startle upright. Ares is sound asleep. I shake him, but he doesn’t budge. I climb out of bed and head to the wardrobe. After wrapping myself in a silk robe, I pad softly downstairs.
No. Not him.