A FEW DAYS later, my uncle calls to apologize. He’s already back in his secure stronghold in California, not wanting to stir the pot any more so than what he did down here in Mexico. Even though I’m still upset with him, I can forgive him…to an extent. Whether I like it or not, he’s the only family I have left. And if my parents taught me anything, it’s that you always forgive family. Even when they fuck up.
“It’s in the past,” I tell him through the receiver, lying through my fucking teeth as I roll my lucky coin across my knuckles. Domingo’s behavior ultimately led to my outburst, which in turn caused me to hurt Aria. If I had to do it all over again, I would have taken my anger out on his face.
“Good, good,” he says. A pause, and then, “And what happened to your friend after I left?”
I grind my jaw. “Nothing,” I growl out. He doesn’t need to know my business, especially not when it comes to Aria.
Domingo chuckles darkly on the other end of the line. “I don’t believe that for a fucking second, nephew.” He whistles low and long. “She is quite the beauty. Honestly, one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”
I sit up straighter in my chair, gripping my coin in my hand and squeezing it tight. His words are pissing me off. “Your point?” I prompt through gritted teeth.
“Many men will try to take her from you. Keep her close,” he warns, but it almost sounds like a threat.
“I intend to do just that,” I inform him. Just the thought of someone trying to take Aria from me has my inner beast roaring to life. In the short time we’ve been together, she has grown to become the most important person in my world. A man looking in her direction would easily lose his eyes. And I would kill anyone for laying a hand on her. I’ve already proven that level of possessiveness with the number of bodies that have been piling up around her. First, with Thiago, then Constantine, and finally with Damion. I’m sure they won’t be the last men I have to kill because of my little captive, but I’m not complaining. I would kill a thousand men if it meant keeping her safe.
It’s funny how this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen when I acquired Aria. I didn’t want this level of commitment or insane jealousy. But, let’s face it, my sanity train derailed a long fucking time ago. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. She is mine. And I pity any poor soul who would ever try to get between us.
After some boring chitchat about business, I finally end the phone call with my uncle. Relieved to be done with him and his bullshit apologies, I tuck my coin into my pocket. And then I delve back into my favorite pastime — creeping on Aria’s social media.
I’m on her Instagram profile, looking through her photos and trying to see if there are any new comments alluding to any updates about her or any recent searches that have been conducted, when I notice something up at the top of the screen. Aria’s birthday is tomorrow. I doubt if she even realizes that. Probably doesn’t even know what month we’re in now. It’s not like I allow her access to a phone or a computer, and I don’t have any archaic calendars hanging around.
I realize I want to make her day special here even if she won’t feel like celebrating. I’m sure the whole thing will make her miss her family and friends even more, but I don’t care. I can’t just let her first birthday with me go by without doing something.
Wanting an idea on what to buy her, I glance through her photos until one catches my eye. I recognize the heels right away. They were the same ones she wore at the auction and the night out at the club. I remember her telling me they were a gift from her mother, and sure enough, the caption of the photo rings true. They obviously hold a spot in her heart since she stuffed them in the back of the closet and refused to throw them out.
Leaving my office, I go to our bedroom where Aria is quietly sleeping in my bed. I fucked her until the wee hours of the morning, not being able to quench my thirst for her, and I doubt if she’ll be awake for another few hours. I should probably feel bad for putting her into sex comas every day, but I don’t. Her body was made for sinning, and I’d gladly and willingly follow my little temptress straight into hades time and time again.
Searching the closet, I discover the pair of Louboutin heels. They are scuffed badly with one of the heels cracked almost to the point of falling off. I can remember her stumbling around in them at the club. No wonder she almost fell getting out of the car that night.
Feeling inspired, I carry them back to my office and call Ignacio. When he walks in a few minutes later, I tell him, “I want you to take these to the city and see if anyone can restore them.”
His brow creases as he stares at the heels like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle, but he smartly decides to keep his opinions to himself. Instead, he asks, “Can I take Flora?”
I roll my eyes and wave my hand, dismissing him. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t let your fucking her get in the way of what I want you to have done today. I need them finished by tomorrow morning. Pay extra if you have to.”
“Alright,” he agrees before taking the shoes with a confused look on his face.
He’s probably wondering why the hell I want a pair of heels repaired, but I don’t have time to explain. I have a birthday party I need to prepare for.
