The Devil's Plaything - Page 72

My chest tightens painfully. For the first time in a long while, I think about my dad being a father. Not just Luis Cordero, ruthless asshole, but the papá who I forgot he was. To me, he was a hero; to the world, he was a criminal—just like me.

“You’ll have kids one day and you’ll see,” Hector tells me with a sparkle in his eyes, which causes me to chuckle. Can I be a father? With Sofía, I can be anything.

“Let’s go see your daughter,” I tell the man who’s still holding onto my hand.

“Yes, let’s go see your future wife.” He grins.

I leave my men to lock up the house and slip into the bench seat of the car. Hector joins me, and two of my men, who are up front, offer me a nod before we head out toward the hospital.

I’ll be married soon.

To the woman who stole my heart after I stole her as payment.

36

Victor

Two weeks later

We haven’t spoken about her time with Rodrigo. And the more days that pass, the more I itch to learn the truth. She would never come right out and say what happened, which only makes me angrier. But I’ve given her time, I’ve given her long enough, and today that will all change because I need to know the truth.

I’m sitting in the office when she enters wearing a long black dress that hides her curves. Her long hair hangs down her back, and I’m tempted to fist it, pulling her back while I take her over my desk.

She looks at me, and I can tell that she’s wary, and she should be because, today, I will learn the truth. Her eyes are flickering with secrets, and I’m tired of hidden stories between us.

“Sit,” I offer her the chair. Sofía has been distant, which I can understand, and I allow her to be far from me for the time being, but I’m going to cleanse her of whatever the hell is bothering her.

“Are you busy?” she asks, attempting to look at the desk, instead of meeting my inquisitive gaze.

“No,” I tell her. “I’m waiting for you.”

She finally lifts her mischievous stare to mine. “Oh?” She’s playing coy, which only solidifies my need to know what happened. I fist my hands, feeling the bite of pain from my nails digging into my palms.

“We need to talk.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It is.” I sigh, pushing up from my chair, I round the desk and make my way to the liquor cabinet where I grab two tumblers and fill one with whiskey and the other with fruit juice from the bar fridge I keep in my office. I hand her the juice while I gulp down the alcohol. “I need to know what he did, juguete.”

“Why?” She turns angry, closed off, and it doesn’t help with my temper that’s slowly burning through my veins. It’s the passion I have to protect her, and the need I have to kill someone for her pain.

“Because if you don’t tell me, I might feel guilty about killing the fucker,” I bite out, finally admitting that he’s dead.

“You killed him?” Sofía’s eyes widen in shock, as she regards me. I head back to the bar, because I know this is going to take more than just one shot of whiskey. I swallow down another mouthful of burning liquid before I pour a third measure.

“Of course, I did.” I shrug, pouring another shot, before turning my attention to her once more. “No man touches what’s mine, and I made it very clear that you are mine, Sofía.” She’s on her feet, closing the distance between us, and this is the closest I’ve been to her since she got back from the hospital.

“I-I…” She shakes her head slowly, her gaze trained on the floor. Her expression is filled with despondency that eats away at my soul. I reach for her, expecting her to flinch, but she doesn’t. I tip her head back with my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“Tell me.”

“He… He raped me,” she confesses, and rage I’ve never felt before surges through every pore, every vein, and every nerve in my body. I swallow hard, clenching my jaw to keep from breaking something. I want to punch a hole in the fucking concrete wall, and I know the rage I feel will break through it. “He told me… He said I was nothing. He made me bleed and then he laughed.” Her words are mumbled, whispered so lightly that I can barely hear her.

I take a step back, nearing the bar, and spin on my heel to look away from her, before I swipe my arm across the countertop, sending the bottles of alcohol crashing to the ground. The echo of shattering glass bounces off the walls, and my office door flies open. Javier enters, without asking, and he’s at my side in seconds, his gaze flitting between Sofía and me.

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