Envy (Criminal Sins 1)

If I was enjoying this banter any more than I am, I might be at risk of asking Catalina to marry me for real. I’ve never had a conversation like this before in my entire life. It’s almost like I’m talking to an equal instead of just another lackey. It’s intoxicating. I want more.

“Not nearly as much as I’m offering you,” I tease. “Think of all the good you could do with that money. Maybe even more than me!”

“Money isn’t everything,” Catalina huffs.

“So I’ve heard. But, from where I’m sitting, only one person at this table has made a positive difference in the lives of the underprivileged.”

“That’s not true,” Catalina counters.

“Oh? What have you ever done for the poor?” I ask, edging her on.

“You mean, besides being one?”

A hearty chuckle escape

s my lungs. That domestic warmth worms its way back around the inside of my chest. “Yeah, besides that.”

Catalina shrugs, almost bashful all of a sudden. “I’ve worked in soup kitchens most of my life. Whenever I have the free time. The town I live in has a lot of issues, as do the people. They’re generally good folk, but everyone has a story for why they’re down on their luck,”

“What’s your story?” I lean forward, drawn to the mystery on the other side of the table. There’s a whole side to her that I’m not seeing, and, unlike in my professional life right now, it feels like I’m actually getting somewhere with her.

Catalina suddenly goes rigid. The looseness of our conversation stiffens and a stone of disappointment drops in my gut.

“Maybe I’ll tell you after I get paid,” she says, her voice almost a whisper. What the hell has she been through? Maybe she’s not just a pretty little social climber after all...

“So, you’re in?” I ask.

Catalina shifts in her seat, her eyes on her untouched plate. “I’ll have to sleep on it.”

My eyes drift over her slouched posture. Our conversation has been so good that I’ve barely had the mind to drink in her delicious body. The red dress she chose is perfect, both classy and unbearably sultry. I don’t want to let her get too much sleep. Her laugh may be intoxicating, but it’s her trembling body that I’ve really been after this entire time.

“You have until tomorrow,” I tell her, redressing myself in a cloak of authority. Things are getting hectic, and the sooner I can control the part of my life that’s happening in the public eye, the better. There will come a point where I’ll need that to be automatic, because something is happening in the underworld that I can’t quite explain yet. A mysterious shift has taken me by surprise, but it’s too subtle to grab onto quite yet. It will require my full attention if I want to get ahead of it, and that means locking Catalina up before shit starts to really go down.

She’ll need to be my rock above the water, something I can steady myself on while I fight off the sharks below.

I can only hope she’s up to the task.

16

Catalina

For the first time in almost a week, I wake up in a bed.

After our surprisingly pleasant dinner date, Angel drove me back to a different building than the one he had picked me up from. This time, he didn’t lead me up to a penthouse prison cell. Instead, he showed me to a wonderful little condo unit just under the top floor.

“Here,” he said, tossing me a keychain. The metal clanged against my new engagement ring. “I’ll be upstairs.”

And with that, he was gone.

I immediately went to check the front door. It was unlocked. I was free... but exhausted, and weighed down by a heavy choice.

Do I marry Angel Montoya for $20 million?

Do I really even have a choice?

I went to bed with a racing mind and a heavy heart.

My mind may not be racing anymore, but it sure is pounding. I don’t know if I was just overwhelmed with all the new information from last night or what, but the heaviness is gone from my decision and it just feels like I have a hangover now.