Chapter 10 #4
I blinked more than a few times awkwardly while reaching for the duvet that was rolled at the end of the bed. Shio quickly grabbed it off the bed, tucking it under his left arm while holding something out to me with his right hand.
“Put this on and come on.”
“Es demasiado temprano para vestirse, (It's too early to get dressed)” I groaned.
“It’s actually too late.” He dropped the clothes on the bed. “Solana—”
His voice carried a hint of caution. I wasn’t sure how many times he’d said my name from his lips before I woke, so instead of waiting to see if he would call my name again, I sat up in bed. My body was still covered in the spare clothing he kept in the drawers.
The same drawer he had been receiving pleasure in front of.
I shook my head, trying to erase the image heating up my body.
It was too early to be turned on, especially by someone I had zero intentions of doing anything with.
I was only here to be taught whatever my father thought he could teach me.
I shook my head again. My father and his ridiculous decisions were starting to cloud my mind again.
The math was off. For someone who was considered a crime boss, his logic never made sense to me.
The one time a man runs his mouth to me, and I actually listen, is the one time my father decides that same man should train me how to be a wife.
A wife! Shio didn’t even have a wife of his own to teach me anything.
Dragging my heavy eyelids upward, I blinked a few times to signal that I was now awake. Even in the gloomy room, I could see his dark skin had a slight shine, and I could smell the toothpaste on his breath.
“What time is it?”
Shio, looking down at me with his intense glare, made me reach up and smooth my hair down.
I knew it was a mess. Not only had I not tied it back, but I hadn’t done anything to it since the night I went partying.
I hadn't washed my face or brushed my teeth since yesterday, and with the way I’d been comatose, I knew there was dried saliva somewhere on my face.
Here he was looking like he was ready to tackle the day, while I barely knew what day it was.
“It’s time to get dressed. Handle your hygiene and meet me downstairs.”
Deciding not to give him any trouble, I sat up on the bed. My body begged to sink back into another sleeping slumber, but the way he was glaring at me made it clear my beauty rest had come to a halt for today. Without waiting for me to reply, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Mira nomás, one decent man in the world. Miracles do happen.
Opening my eyes widely and then closing them again to allow more moisture to saturate my eyes, I exhaled. After taking a beat, I shifted them to the digital clock on the nightstand.
“Five in the morning? ?Ay, ya, ya! What is wrong with this man?”
Instead of dwelling on how I had never in my life gotten up this early, I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I wasn't sure if I'd properly handled my hygiene because I had one eye open and one eye closed, but by the time I was dressed, I knew I wouldn’t be stepping back into the bathroom, so what I did would have to do. The clothes he dropped on the bed were a deep hunter green ALO set. The leggings, bra, and matching jacket, which I left unzipped with thumb inserts, felt good against my skin, and they fit perfectly, as if he’d filtered through my laundry to guess my size.
As I rubbed my hands down the lightweight fabric, I thought about how nice it would be to get back in the sheets before me.
I didn’t do anything with my hair, letting it hang loosely down my shoulders.
I didn't have the energy to pull it into a top knot, and the strands looked like a mix between a bird's nest and a rat's nest. It was a mess. My mind shifted to the bed again. Slipping back onto the cozy, queen-sized mattress wouldn’t alter my current state. Knowing I didn’t want a gun back in my face, I turned away from the bed in a huff.
Walking down the hall until I reached the stairs that descended, I held onto the wooden rail, careful not to slip in these brand-new socks. By the time I reached the bottom stair and saw what type of situation I’d been summoned into, I turned right back around.
“Aye!”
That one-word syllable froze me in my tracks.
With one knee bent, I had a foot on the stair, ready to crawl back to the bed I was already calling my own.
Shio’s tone—deep, gritty, and mandón (bossy)—hit harder than I expected.
My papa used to think he could put me in my place by raising his voice too.
Shio wasn’t my father, though. His voice wasn’t just commanding; it sent shockwaves through my brain. When he spoke, my body chose to listen.
“Shio…” I sighed. “I spend my days sleeping until at least noon, shopping, and partying. Solana no hace ejercicio nunca (Solana does not exercise, ever.)”
I wasn't the smallest person, and at one hundred sixty-nine pounds and five feet seven, I could stand to hit the gym. Still, even with my reckless eating and weekly drinking, I looked good naked. I hadn't gone up a dress size in two years, and men still tripped over their tongues when I walked into the room. Turning to face him so he could see I was serious, I zipped my jacket because I was starting to feel a cool breeze. Now that I was able to see him in the light, I’d done a double-take of the man before me. With his arms crossed at his crotch and shoulders squared, his black workout attire fit his body and his mood from head to toe. The Nikes on his feet reminded me of my brothers, which reminded me of home. If I were there, I’d still be sleeping in bed.
“Shio! It’s too early,” I whined, hoping he’d change his mind about whatever was on his agenda today that included me.
Shio wore an expression, though, that said he wasn't buying what I was selling. “Actually, it’s late. Thirty minutes, to be exact. I’m usually done with my cardio and finishing up my first rep by now.”
“Who works out at five in the morning?”
“Shio Cuppacio.”
“Well, Solana Ledesma does not.” I was bantering with him, but hadn't made a move to go back up the stairs. “My papa sent me here because… I really don’t even know why. But whatever he thinks you can fix, trust me, amigo… the gym isn't it.”
There were at least eight different machines in the room I’d yet to enter, including a StairMaster. I didn't work out, but I'd seen enough online to know that even though that machine gave you the best butt, it was intense. There was no way in hell I was getting on that contraption.
“To be honest… I don’t know what the fuck your father thinks I can do with you either. But you here now, and under my roof, you do as I do. I work out six days a week, but for you, we’ll start with two and build from there.”
He scanned my body in a non-seductive way. I could see his eyes evaluating me, which was good because I didn’t want to die from heavy weightlifting. Still, his gaze made me shift my weight.
“Everyone can benefit from working out,” he said as he turned and walked toward the dumbbell rack.
“You should want to be the best version of yourself. Working out makes you live better, sleep better, breathe better, fuck better.” His voice dropped an octave on the last two words he stated, or at least my mind imagined it did.
My neck heated, and if there was a mirror, I was almost certain my cheeks would reflect a flushed face.
“You can work out in socks, or you can slide those gym shoes on next to you,” he said, snapping me from my internal thoughts.
Looking down, there were a pair of shoes, exactly like his, but in my size. I wanted to ask where all this had come from, but I had no right to question anything. I had no money, no friends here, and no clue how to navigate this foreign land. I was at his mercy.
Once I had the shoes on, I dragged my feet until I was standing within arm’s length of him.
“Working out and eating better are among the hardest things you could do as a human. Consistency produces results and builds healthy habits. There is no man of substance walking the earth who wants a wife without some kind of routine to ensure she’s taking care of herself.”
The Rodríguezes didn’t have any substance.
They were animales—pigs, to be exact. They had no regard for anyone outside of one another.
The only “routine” they’d ever want from me was one that involved me on my back or on my knees, with one of my holes readily available.
Just the thought of me being my fiancé’s personal sex slave for the rest of my life made me want to vomit.
Of all the men my father could have chosen for me, I had to end up with the worst of the malditos (bastards).
“Aye.”
Blinking away my crude thoughts, I focused on Shio.
“We gone start off on the treadmill. Light day for the newbie.”