Chapter 6: Javier's POV

Click clack, click clack goes her heels as she moves graciously out of the hall.

My eyes have been her for as long as humanly possible, and my ears have given heed only to the sounds emanated from her person.

How she picked up the wine glass and took a small sip while scanning the room with subtle eyes.

She must be at least cautious, making sure no one was unto her and her true identity. How she played with the saucer of appetizers, not really eating her tostadas de atún.

Shame, really. I thought the tuna tasted fabulous.

I didn’t want her to know I was looking, so when she stood up, I turned away.

Now, she’s walking off, and I can ogle to my biggest delight.

Her heels - worn on those beautiful, well-toned legs, almost like an athletes. Lilith had always been the slender, more movement versatile kid when we were young, while I was a sloppy fat fuck. I wondered how she loved me.

Childish naivety, I guess.

And kill me, but her ass is to die for. In the slim fit dress pants, the curves of those beautiful, childbearing hips further elucidated the generous, but not overwhelming size of her ass. And she was firm.

Taut.

“She’d grip,” Esteban muttered in my ears, jolting me out of my daydream.

“¡Ay, Jesucristo!" I grit my teeth and tear my eyes away from the damsel who has just left the room, locking eyes with the blonde man just behind me.

With murderous intent.

“Kill me later, but is she supposed to be leaving the party?” Esteban points to the swinging doors just after Lil-Dakota had gone through.

I nod first, then shake my head. “No…no, she is not.”

Frankly, I didn’t care. Watching her for whatever brief moment was enough treat for me. But no one could know that…especially not Esteban.

“I believe you would want to know why she’s leaving?” Esteban raises a brow.

I didn’t think of that.

“Tail her,” I growl. “But don’t hurt her. If she’s tired, let her rest. It is a boring party, after all.”

Esteban licks his lips and starts out of the room, but I call him back.

“Estaban.”

He pauses, takes his sweet time, then turns with a thin lipped smile. “Yes, El jefe?”

I want to issue an extra warning…something about threatening to cut his head off if even a single hair on her head is harmed, but I decide against it and shake my head, waving him off.

Esteban raises both brows in mild frustration - he’s the only one in the estate who can dare to do that. Any other person would have had their heads blown off the second I sensed any hostility.

He turns around and leaves.

He wouldn’t touch her.

Not because he can’t. But because house rules forbid any man from touching a woman belonging to the house without consent.

Ironic, no?

We sell drugs, murder men, wipe out entire bloodlines, traffic women and children, and yet, there’s a sense of self within our walls - a code of conduct and discipline that everyone abides by.

If he…if even I…touch a woman against her will, and take full advantage of her, the penalty is death.

I swore an oath to make to protect everyone under the mafia walls, even if it meant that the protection was from another person within the walls.

Even if the protection was from myself.

“What are you thinking about, mi amor?” I feel a soft hands wrap around my head. A pair of soft breasts follows suit, and I am not in the least aroused…or amused.

Instead a scowl masks the pure rage that wells up within me.

“Nothing, Klara,” I reply callously, but only by tone. Klara’s perfume is damn near an assassination attempt as it stops my breathing and I have to lean away from her to get some clean air. When she comes around to look me in the eyes, I force a smile on my face.

That’s the first bout of kindness I’ve shown to her in weeks, and it’s only because there are people here…people watching.

If I dismiss her, rumors will fly. Rumors means bodies and men are of no use to me dead.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, Javier,” her eyes light up at the slightest bit of interaction. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What can I do to make your night easier?”

There it is. Eager to please.

I look at her for the first time in weeks - really look. Klara is beautiful. Almost goddess-like. I mean, she would have to have been, if not, I wouldn’t have fucked her and maybe put a baby in her.

Her eyes had a goddess’ seduction in them. They were what enchanted me. But there was also a softness…one I was once infatuated by. If I hadn’t found out that Lilith was alive…if my guilt wasn’t eating me alive, I might have settled.

The house needed a stable jefe after all.

Where did all that love go?

“I’m thinking about getting out of here,” I smirk to her, and the look on her face feels like giving candy to a baby. If only she knew.

She jumps up faster than any of my security guards, eyes wide in anticipation that makes me cower in second-hand embarrassment. It’s a miracle that her breasts don’t spill over from the low-necked dress she’s wearing.

“Let’s go to my apartment. Julio might not be asleep yet, and…”

“I’m going to bed, Klara,” I brush past her, feeling the air tighten with the pang of disappointment that she’s thrown into.

“W…Well, in that case, I’m coming with you,” she dares to grab my hand. I pause, turn around and glare - not at her…at my hand, where she holds me.

She immediately lets go and stumbles back. Her eyes hold regret, embarrassment…maybe even hate. But she’ll be back. I know that because she has always come back.

For now, I need to think about how I’d stop thinking about Dakota…or should I say…Lilith.