The roar of the SUV’s V8 engine faded down the winding stone driveway, leaving behind a silence so thick it pressed against my ears.I stood on the east wing balcony, watching the red taillights of Thiago’s convoy vanish into the thick mountain fog. Cold rain drizzled over my face, soaking the collar of the dark flannel shirt I had stolen from his wardrobe. It still carried his scent—cedar, dark tobacco, and the warm, heavy musk of his skin. Every time I took a breath, my body flushed, remembering the agonizing, beautiful way he had driven himself inside me on the canopy bed just hours ago.I hated how easily he broke me down. I hated that beneath my rage, beneath the terror for my brother and the looming threat of Isaac Santos, my pulse hammered at the mere memory of his hands on my hips."Back inside, miss," a flat voice called out from behind me.I turned my head. Two armed guards stood in the doorway of the balcony, clad in black tactical gear with submachine guns slung across the
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-09-30
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