16. Chapter 16
Rosalina
The sound of tires on the cobble driveway skittered across my skin, pulling my attention from the book lying unread in my lap.
I hurried to the library window and nudged the linen curtains apart a sliver.
My attempt at being cute for Cruz was a smoldering pile of shit, so I was done with that, but I noticed him stifling a grin from the corner of my eye.
I edged the curtains a smidge wider, in case he had any interest, and peeked outside.
The shine off Lorenzo’s rectangular forehead was nearly blinding in the tropical sunlight.
He could almost be considered passable-looking if it weren't for the pinched-up scowl he wore, and his beady little pig eyes. Surely he thought he looked intimidating, but in reality, all the scowl did was make him look like he’d smashed his face on the steering wheel of the flashy red sports car he’d just stepped out of.
His tacky, pointy-toed loafers scuffed across the driveway and up the entryway steps.
Who was he trying to impress with that cheap polyester suit and knock-off Rolex? It wasn't even a convincing fake. Being a decent human being would have been a thousand times more impressive than this bullshit front he was putting on for my father.
I stepped back from the window, letting the curtain fall closed, blocking out the sight of the train wreck that was my fiancé. This meeting was inevitable, and I wasn’t going to be able to avoid it much longer.
When I turned around, my dour bodyguard was straightening his already straight silk tie and looking at his shoes.
If I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought he was still hiding a smirk in the shadows of that corner.
He seemed amused at my discomfort, and I couldn't blame him. Me, childishly spying through a window, and my ridiculous fiancé strutting around like a rooster in heat, was plenty to laugh at. Even more reason flirting with him was off the table now. That ship had sailed, but it didn’t stop me from admiring the way he filled out his tailored suit so nicely, unlike the little weasel who had just walked through the front door.
Muffled voices echoed down the mellow plaster walls of the villa, but were growing fainter. Father was probably trying to soften him up with whiskey and cigars in his office, but I wanted to get this over with. I rubbed my damp palms on my denim-clad thighs and took a deep breath. I could do this.
“Let’s go, bodyguard,” I said before marching out of the double doors in my fluffy socks.
Something dressier might have been a better idea, but I wanted to meet Lorenzo on my own terms, wearing something comfortable. Something defensible. Snug denim jeans and a T-shirt would stop wandering hands more easily than a sundress would. Just in case he got any ideas.
The further down the hall I went, the more nervous I got.
My pulse sped up, pounding like a drum in my throat, and I sucked in gulps of air in short gasps.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not the time for a panic attack.
I glanced over my shoulder, and Cruz’s dark brow rose in question.
If I turned around and ran back to my room, would he let me go?
He probably would, but I wasn’t willing to show Lorenzo any fear.
“Hey.” His deep voice rolled over me like liquid velvet, and my heart instantly slowed to a soft pitter-patter. “Are you all right?” He prowled closer, and his heavenly sandalwood scent soothed me to my core.
I looked up into the depths of his midnight eyes, falling into an abyss of protection and comfort. Why did he make me feel so safe, like nothing could ever hurt me again?
Slowly, he brushed a wisp of my dark hair behind my ear. His touch lingered against my skin longer than would ever be considered appropriate. “I got you.”
His growled words steeled my resolve, and I reluctantly turned away, heading down the hall to my father’s office.
Shouts erupted from behind the closed door.
My feet froze, not wanting to interrupt the heated conversation, but also, I was curious as to what they were saying.
Cruz fell back, keeping a respectful distance.
As an alpha, his hearing was heightened, but at least he was trying not to hear the confrontation.
It was not good.
The words were muffled by the door, but clear enough that I was reasonably sure Lorenzo was threatening not to help unless I was ready and willing to kneel for him.
Kneel? Of all the fucked up alpha male bullshit. Absolutely not.
“You’ve been stagnant for too long,” Lorenzo's muffled voice continued, bouncing off the walls. “You don’t have the power you once did. With my men and your assets, this empire can be great again. The sooner the wedding goes through, the sooner that’ll happen.
You can retire, and my pack will start making heirs.
You can’t afford to lose another shipment, and we both know it.
Without our help, you’re screwed, old man. ”
Old man? Who in the hell did this little asshole think he was? My father was a legend. He, on the other hand, was nothing but a common thug. I charged the door and threw it open, my whole body flushed with anger. The predatory grin that flashed across Lorenzo’s weaselly face was nauseating.
Calling him weaselly was an insult to weasels, really. Weasels had the capacity to be cute. Lorenzo did not.
My eyes narrowed slightly. “Oops, sorry for interrupting. I thought you might want to see me.”
Lorenzo’s spindly little fingers speared through his hair, coming away shiny with hair product. “Just who I was hoping to find.”
I shifted uncomfortably, realizing my temper had spurred my feet into action, landing me in the last place I wanted to be.
Cruz’s presence was like a warm, comfortable weight standing in the doorway I’d just barged through. I didn’t have to turn to know he was there, I just knew, and that gave me the strength to straighten my spine.
“Well, here I am.” I lifted my chin with a confidence I barely felt.
“So you are.” Lorenzo hesitated before unbuttoning his navy blazer and stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets.
His murky eyes raked over my casual attire, and his scowl deepened.
“What are you wearing?” Not waiting for an answer, his attention turned to my father.
“Are you already too poor to clothe your daughter properly? Does she just run around in rags all day? I can’t be expected to accept this insolence. ”
My eyes widened in disbelief. Was he actually kidding right now? These clothes were perfectly fine. And who was he to judge my clothes in the first place?
“No, of course not,” my father sputtered at the insult, but he grit his teeth.
His cheeks flushed red with outrage, and I could only imagine the scathing rebuke he would unleash if we weren’t losing money and men to the Morenos at every turn.
I’d never seen him tolerate this sort of disrespect from anyone, and that worried me.
I looked at him in disbelief. In the past, he’d flayed alphas alive with words alone. His restraint only emphasized how bad things must be. Normally, I’d expect him to rip Lorenzo to shreds and send him home crying and questioning his life choices.
Lorenzo dug something red out of his pocket and threw it at me. Out of instinct alone, I snatched it out of the air and looked down at the scrap of lace in my hand. Maybe it was my ring, and this is his way of proposing. I unfolded it carefully in case something was wrapped in it.
It took me a second to straighten the fabric out, and then another second to realize it was a pair of crotchless panties. I was stunned silent.
This couldn’t be real.
I might’ve been naive to assume he’d bother proposing with a ring, but red crotchless panties? Nothing could have prepared me for that.
“Go put those on, and a dress. I expect you to be available to me and my pack at all times. You’ll have to get into the gym, too. It’s clear your fitness is lacking.” The scowl was gone from his face, and he looked dead serious.
Did that asshole just call me fat? I felt my temper boil over, my hands clenched into fists, and my nails dug into my skin. Nothing was going to stop me from shoving these fucking panties down his throat until he choked to death on them. Nothing.
When I took a step forward to do just that, a brick wall of muscle blocked my view, and a steady hand on my bicep redirected my momentum until I was turned back toward the door.
Cruz’s throaty growl soothed my frayed nerves. “Good idea. I’ll escort Rosa back to her room to change so you can finish your conversation.”
I should have been just as pissed at him for interceding, but the sound of his voice paired with the briefest touch of his hand on my bare arm had me coming back to myself. Hurrying out the door and back down the hall, I dragged air into my lungs.
That was almost really bad.
He called me fat, told me to wear a dress and crotchless panties—panties he had stuffed in his pocket.
Why did he have panties in his pocket? I looked down at the crumpled fabric.
There was no tag, but I could tell they were very small.
Probably too small for me, not that I was actually going to put them on.
What if they belonged to his dead omega?
Did he just give me used panties? I shuddered. Nausea roiled in my stomach.
Huh, maybe I'm not actually addicted to knots, then.
Lorenzo’s voice chased us down the hallway. “Keep your hands and eyes off my bride, bodyguard. She’s my property now.”
Cruz’s steps faltered, and I glanced over my shoulder. The muscle in his jaw ticked as if he were clenching his teeth. But his neutral expression replaced it so fast, I might’ve imagined it.
I almost turned around to show Lorenzo exactly what I thought of that, but Cruz’s calming presence kept me headed toward my room. Nothing could stop the words from replaying in my head, though.
Property! I’m no one’s fucking property!
And fucking Lorenzo calling Cruz ‘bodyguard.’ That was my nickname for him.
How dare he steal my nickname? In fact, it bothered me more than him calling me property.
I’d expected that, but disrespecting my bodyguard.
No, absolutely not. Just one more reason to make that shrimp-dick motherfucker pay.
As soon as I could figure out a way to escape this insanity.
Maybe I could still get Cruz to help me, even after the embarrassment of the broccoli incident.
Before I was out of earshot, I faintly picked up Lorenzo arguing with my father about putting an alpha in charge of protecting me, but everyone knew that a beta, even well-armed, was no match for an alpha on a mission.
Fucking stupid Lorenzo.
Muttering under my breath, I padded back to my room with my silent shadow trailing behind.