Chapter 4

The airport in Mexico City felt hot even though the air conditioning inside the terminal was on full blast. I dragged my suitcase through the arrival gates.

My father had already sent a driver. An old man with a thick mustache greeted me with a cold nod.

The drive to my parents' house took forty minutes.

My parents' house was still the same. Not a single coat of paint had changed. White walls with red tiles, a small garden out front overgrown with purple bougainvillea, a wooden swing on the porch that had rusted from years of disuse.

I walked past my stepmother without saying a word. I dragged my suitcase myself through the narrow hallway to the room at the end, then went in and closed the door.

I left the suitcase lying near the closet. My body fell onto the bed, my face staring up at the cracked ceiling. There were voices outside, my father and stepmother whispering, unclear, but their tone wasn't friendly. I didn't care. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

My hand reached for my phone and opened social media, and there, on the main feed, the first post that appeared was a photo of Ethan and Olivia.

They were standing in front of a small church with white flowers everywhere. Olivia was wearing a simple white wedding dress, her hair flowing beautifully over her shoulders. Ethan beside her, smiling wide in a navy blue suit.

The phone flew from my hand, not that I threw it on purpose, but my hand was trembling so badly that it slipped and hit the opposite wall. The screen cracked in the upper right corner, but it was still on and still displaying that photo.

I cried in hoarse sobs, burying my face in the pillow.

Why could they be happy? Why weren't they punished? Why was the world so unfair?

My sobs shook the bed. I didn't know how long I cried, maybe an hour, and all I knew was that when my tears started to dry and my eyes felt like they were burning, I heard a sound from outside.

The sound of car engines. Not one, but several.

I sat up slowly. My eyes shifted to the bedroom window facing the front yard. I pulled aside the faded white lace curtain a little.

Outside, three sleek black luxury cars were parked in front of my house's gate.

The cars were big, shiny, way too luxurious for this simple residential neighborhood. The front car door opened, and two men in black suits with sunglasses stepped out. They opened the door of the middle car, the largest of the three.

A young woman stepped out of the house. She was beautiful. Long wavy black hair, a red dress that fit her body perfectly, high heels that made her walk with confidence.

I clenched my fists. That was Sofia, my younger sister.

Sofia waved at someone inside the car, and then from the same car, a man stepped out, and from this distance, even though it was just a silhouette, even though the yard light only illuminated half of his face, I could see it.

No.

No way.

The man turned toward my bedroom window as if he knew I was watching.

Blue eyes. And he smiled as if to say "I told you we'd meet again."

My body froze. So Luca was Sofia's fiance?

That didn't make sense. The Italian man who met me in the United States and who almost kissed me all the way to my most forbidden place in my apartment, he was now standing in my parents' front yard in Mexico, next to my younger sister, with the same smile he used when he looked at me on top of that bed.

I stepped back from the window. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears.

Outside, Sofia's laughter carried all the way into the room. Followed by my father's voice warmly welcoming them, my father who just hours earlier wouldn't even come see me.

I didn't leave my room.

I wouldn't leave.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my closed bedroom door, hoping this was all just a nightmare, but the sounds from the living room grew clearer. Laughter, conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the aroma of Mexican food started seeping under the door.

Not even an hour later, my bedroom door opened, and Luca stood in the doorway.

"Luca?" I said.

He walked in without waiting for permission. He walked to the middle of my small room and looked around with those same blue eyes.

"Interesting room," he said in his thick Italian accent.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for the bathroom."

I stared at him in disbelief. "The bathroom is next to the living room. You'd have to walk through the entire hallway to get here, and that's not a coincidence."

He stepped closer.

One step.

Two steps.

"Fine," he said with a shrug. "I lied. I wasn't looking for the bathroom."

"What are you looking for?"

"You."

He was now standing right in front of me. We were only an arm's length apart.

"Are you my sister's fiance?" I asked.

Luca pushed me against the wall, his body pressing me there, one hand beside my head, the other on my waist. Those blue eyes looked me up and down, making my knees feel weak.

"You said you were going to get married, but I don't see your fiance here," he said.

"I haven't..."

"And you said you wouldn't give your virginity to a stranger like me," he said with a smile.

I couldn't breathe. My chest rose and fell, too close to his. I could feel the heat of his body through his thin shirt. His hand on my waist started to move, sliding up slowly, his fingers touching my ribs.

"Luca..."

He kissed me.

His lips hit mine hungrily, without preamble, like he'd been holding back too long and couldn't anymore. His hand squeezed my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

I gripped his shirt. Not to push him away, but to pull him closer.

His mouth moved down to my neck.

I sighed.

I knew this was wrong. This man was my sister's fiance. I should have screamed, then run out of this room and sprinted as fast as I could, but I didn't do any of that.

I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it. Luca's lips bit the skin of my neck softly. His tongue touched the same spot to soothe the bite mark. His hand slid up under the loose shirt I was wearing, touching the bare skin of my stomach.

His hand crept up from my stomach to my ribs, then stopped there. His fingers touched my skin slowly, making my breath catch. I bit my lower lip, trying not to sigh too loudly.

Luca didn't seem to care. His mouth moved to the other side of my neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses there. My knees went weak, my whole body felt like it was burning from the inside.

I was almost losing control, but in the corner of my mind that was still intact, a small voice was screaming. He was my sister's fiance.

I pushed his chest.

"Stop!"

He didn't stop.

I pushed harder. "STOP!"

This time he stepped back half a step. Those blue eyes were dark, his breathing heavy, his lips slightly swollen from kissing me.

"What?" his voice was hoarse.

"You're Sofia's fiance."

Luca stared at me, then he laughed.

"What?" I said, annoyed.

He was still laughing, shaking his head. "You're really stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"So stupid."

I crossed my arms over my chest. My blouse was still one button open, my hair was a mess, and this man dared to call me stupid?

"Explain before I call my father."

Luca sighed. He reached for my folded hands, opened them slowly, then intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I'm your fiance."