LOGINThe words dropped between them with absolute, deadly seriousness.Viola froze. Her lips parted in outrage, but the cold promise in his eyes forced her jaw shut. She lowered herself back onto the edge of the mattress, her fingers digging into the coarse sheets, trembling with helpless anger.Sebastian turned away without another word, walked over to the bathroom door, and returned carrying a small white first-aid kit.He knelt on one knee in front of her. Without asking for permission, he reached out, caught her bruised right hand, and drew it into his lap.Viola tried to jerk her arm back, but his hold was firm and unyielding."I told you don't touch me," she whispered, her voice shaking.Sebastian ignored her. He uncapped a tube of soothing cream and smoothed it over the raw, broken skin around her wrist. His rough, calloused fingers worked in complete silence, deliberate and steady, wiping away the small flecks of dried blood with clean gauze before wrapping a soft white bandage aro
A low sneer curled his lips. He gripped the metal between his thumb and forefinger, dragged it off his skin, and hurled it across the room. It struck the wainscoting with a sharp clack, skittering into the dark beneath the sofa.He didn't look where it fell. Lorenzo dared to touch what belonged to him, and the Italian's expiration date was already ticking. But the reckoning would begin closer to home.It would start with Octavia Crawford.He took a slow swallow of whiskey, staring out into the shadows until the first pale streaks of gray light began to bleed through the terrace glass.By morning, pale gray light washed through the grimy window of Viola’s bedroom.The key turned quietly in the deadbolt.The heavy door swung inward with a faint creak, and Sebastian stepped inside, pulling it shut behind him.The room was freezing.Viola lay on her side on the narrow mattress, exactly where he left her hours ago. Her knees were pulled up toward her chest, her dark waves tangled over her
In the dark behind his eyelids, the ghost of Viola’s tear-stained face refused to leave him. He could still see the bruised swell of her lower lip, still hear the broken rasp of her voice tearing at him in the bedroom. She was never supposed to know about the alliance. He made sure she was hidden miles away in the secluded countryside villa, guarded behind layers of security, far from Madrid and the suffocating political theater of the Syndicate.Then Lorenzo Belladonna struck.The Italian played his hand with ruthless precision. He timed the breach for the exact afternoon of the gala, testing the waters when every syndicate boss, politician, and spy had their eyes fixed squarely on Sebastian. Lorenzo wanted to see if the Hierro boss would flinch, if he would break ranks and expose a hidden weakness.Sebastian knew Viola was back inside the estate—Enoch alerted him the moment she crossed the gates—but he never expected Octavia to drag her straight into the blinding lights of the ballr
The deadbolt snapped into place with a hollow, metallic thud.Behind the heavy oak door, Viola’s ragged screams tore through the wood, muffled and distorted by the thick timber until only the violent rattling of the steel chain remained.Sebastian turned away, his expression stone.He walked down the dim corridor in his black shirt and trousers, his dress shoes silent against the runner. His sleeves were pushed to his forearms, the coiled serpent on his skin flexing with every hard stride.Mateo caught up to him at the corner of the gallery."No one enters that room tonight, Mateo," Sebastian said, his voice flat, cutting cleanly through the quiet. "No one. And you know what to do if someone tries.""Understood, Jefe," Mateo answered.Sebastian didn't slow down. He reached into his trouser pocket, took out the black plastic keycard, and tossed it backward.Mateo caught it against his palm. He looked down at the maintenance code, his brow furrowing as recognition set in."The maid," Se
"No."The single syllable fell between them like lead."You don't own me," she said, her voice rising as panic finally pierced through the exhaustion. She wedged her forearms between their chests, digging her elbows against his ribs, pushing with everything she had left. "Let go of me! I said let go!""Stop fighting me, Viola."His grip shifted, wrapping around her upper arms like steel bands, completely absorbing her struggle without yielding an inch."I hate you!" she cried out, her small hands clawing frantically at his wrists, her nails scratching against the dark ink along his skin. "I hate you, I hate this house, and I hate every word you ever told me! Let me out!"She twisted violently, dropping her weight to drag herself out of his reach.Sebastian’s patience broke.With a low, dark growl in his throat, he spun her around, his arm locking over her collarbone, hauling her straight toward the narrow iron bed.Viola’s knees hit the mattress hard, the springs groaning beneath the
Sebastian took a step back, his amber eyes wide, dark, and conflicted as he watched her chest heave."Why didn't you tell me?" Viola wept, tears finally spilling hot down her cheeks. "Do you know how scared I was? Standing in that ballroom... watching you walk in with her... watching you look right through me like you didn't even know who I was? Do you have any idea what that felt like?"She wiped her wet face roughly with the back of her sleeve, her shoulders shaking violently."You don't care about anything. You only care about what you want. We are done, Sebastian. The agreement is over. I want to leave."She turned around, reaching down toward her bag.His hand caught her wrist in a vice."I told you," he said, pulling her back. "You are not going anywhere.""Leave me!" Viola cried, thrashing against his grip, digging her nails into the back of his hand. "Leave me, Sebastian! The fighting is pointless! I'm tired... I am so tired."Sebastian stepped into her space, his other arm wr
The study in the Hierro estate always smelled the same. Old leather, expensive scotch, and decaying power.Sebastian stood near the massive mahogany desk, looking out the large window that overlooked the manicured gardens. He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, just his dark shirt, unbuttoned at the coll
Viola stood in front of the small mirror in her bedroom, her fingers gently touching her jaw.Yesterday, right after her mother’s hand had cracked across her face, Viola had run to the bathroom and desperately covered the angry red mark with cheap foundation. Now, with the makeup washed off, a fain
Dinner ended exactly as it began—stiff, quiet, and suffocating.Viola didn’t wait for Vanessa or her mother to stand up. The moment Rafael pushed his chair back, she slipped away from the table. She kept her head down, tracing the edge of the hallway until she found the heavy glass doors leading to
The heavy oak doors of the Hierro estate always felt too tall, like they were designed to make whoever walked through them feel small.Viola pulled the sleeves of her oversized sweater over her knuckles. She kept her head down, hoping her hair would fall over the sides of her face. Maybe if she sta







