"Yes," I managed, my heart beginning to race at the worry evident in his tone. "What’s wrong?" I asked, my eyes darting over the multiple text messages and missed calls cluttering my notification screen.

  "Meet me in the lobby, pronto," he said quickly, his words clipped and full of tension.

  Before I could respond, the line went dead. I stared at the phone for a moment, the silence of the room settling around me like a heavy blanket. The events of the previous night were a blur, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I didn’t remember falling asleep. The exhaustion had claimed me completely, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. With a deep breath, I shoved the blanket off my naked body, feeling the cool air of the luxury suite against my skin.

  Mateo was gone, leaving no trace of his presence, as if the night before had been a vivid, erotic dream rather than reality. The extreme soreness in my muscles told me otherwise. Pushing aside the lingering fog of sleep, I forced myself to focus. I had no idea what Peyton was so anxious about, but I knew better than to ignore it.

  I searched the room, hoping to find some clothes, my mind racing with questions. The dress I’d worn last night was nowhere in sight, and I had a sinking feeling it had been ruined beyond repair.

  With a frustrated sigh, I moved toward a large wardrobe on the far side of the suite. I hesitated for a moment before pulling open the doors, not sure what to expect. To my surprise, inside hung a single dress, emerald green with a tag still attached.

  It was simple yet elegant, the kind of dress that seemed perfectly picked out for the day ahead. It was as if someone had known I’d need it—likely Mateo. I brushed my fingers over the soft fabric, feeling a wave of emotions I couldn’t quite name.

  With no other option, I slipped into the dress, grateful for its perfect fit. The fabric fell softly around me, the deep green complimenting my skin.

  As I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I hardly recognized the woman staring back. I rushed into the bathroom, my mind still spinning. Grabbing a brush, I quickly ran it through my hair before twisting it into a low bun at the nape of my neck. I didn’t have time to do more, so I swished some mouthwash, feeling the cool burn as I tried to clear the lingering taste of sleep from my mouth.

  Satisfied that I looked somewhat presentable, I hurried back into the main room, snatching my phone off the nightstand as I headed for the door. It was only as I stepped into the hallway that I realized I had no idea where the lobby was in this enormous building.

  Panic flared up in my chest as I stood there, momentarily paralyzed. The suite had felt like a labyrinth last night, and in the light of day, it was no less confusing. I didn’t have time to get lost—Peyton had sounded urgent, and I needed to find him.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. "Think," I whispered to myself, scanning the hallway for any signs or clues. There had to be someone I could ask for directions, but the corridor was eerily silent, not a soul in sight.

  Gritting my teeth, I decided to trust my instincts and headed in the direction I vaguely remembered coming from last night, hoping I wouldn't end up more lost than I already felt. I paused mid-step, suddenly realizing the direction I was heading would take me back to the nightclub, not the hotel lobby where Peyton would be waiting. I cursed under my breath, frustration and anxiety bubbling up as I turned on my heel, heading back down the empty hallway.

  The silence of the corridor was unnerving, each of my footsteps echoing off the walls. As I rounded a corner, I faltered, surprised to see a man standing in front of three elevators. His posture was rigid, and the golden lapel on his uniform indicated he was staff.

  Before I could open my mouth to ask for directions, he spoke. "This lift will take you down to the lobby," he said, his voice smooth and professional. With a small nod, he pressed a button, and the elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime.

  "Thank you," I mumbled, ducking inside quickly. I glanced back at him as the doors began to close, but he remained still, his expression unreadable.

  I knew this had something to do with Mateo—there was no other explanation for why I’d woken up alone or why I was being allowed to leave his suite so freely. My mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts as the elevator doors slid open, revealing a lavish lobby bathed in warm light.

  Before I could fully step out, I was snagged by Melody and Peyton, their grips tight and their expressions strained. “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to ignore the curious stares we were attracting from the hotel staff and guests.

  “That’s a loaded question,” Melody replied, her voice low but firm, as she kept a hold on my hand.

  Without any more explanation, they hurried me through the lobby and out of the hotel, emerging to the backside of the hill where both buildings sat. The parking lot was full, the luxury cars gleaming under the morning sun.

  “We’re in spot 8,” Peyton announced, pulling out a key fob.

  “Spot 8?” I echoed, confusion settling in as we approached the parking spot.

  A sleek white luxury car sat waiting for us. It was pristine, the kind of car that screamed money and power.

  “Whose car is this?” I asked, the unease in my voice growing.

  “Your fiancé’s,” Peyton enunciated the word with a pointed look. “Hop in.”

  At Melody’s urging, I slid into the front passenger seat, the cool leather beneath me doing little to calm my nerves. “Okay, now can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  Melody exchanged a glance with Peyton before asking, “Did something happen last night between you two?”

  “Besides the obvious,” Peyton added, his tone dry but concerned.

  I took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. “He...was upset about me wanting birth control,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. As I said it aloud, the realization hit me like a freight train. I still hadn’t gotten any kind of morning-after contraception, and he had come inside me again, repeatedly, the night before.

  “What the actual fuck?” Melody’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and filled with outrage. “That isn’t his decision.”

  “It’s screwed up, but for men like Mateo, yes it is,” Peyton interjected, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

  I noticed then that both of them were dressed in new clothes as well, but instead of the full glam I had seen them in last night, they were in refined, comfortable outfits—casual, but still expensive-looking.

  “We were woken up by someone pounding on our room door,” Peyton continued, his voice strained. “They handed me this fob and instructed me to have you at Mr. Escuro's by eleven. I was told if I didn’t, he would have you brought to him by his own methods.”

  He paused, then reached across the console and grabbed a manila folder off the dash. “Look at this.” He handed it to me.

  With trembling hands, I flipped it open. My brow furrowed and my neck stiffened as I registered what I was looking at. It was a deed to my parents’ estate—with Mateo’s name on it.

  Before I could even process that, another document joined it—a promissory note with a sum that made my head spin. My uncle's name was scrawled beneath it, clear as day.

  “I don’t...what the fuck is going on?” My voice cracked as I flipped the folder shut, feeling the world tilting off its axis.

  “This isn’t just about you,” Peyton said quietly. “It’s about everything—your family, your past, and whatever else Mateo’s planning. We’re in way deeper than we thought.”

  I knew he would have an ulterior motive. There was no way Mateo would help me out of kindness, and there was even less reason for him to make me his wife. I voiced as much to Peyton and Melody as Peyton pulled out of the parking spot, the luxury car gliding effortlessly onto the road.

  “But why didn’t he just take me with him on his own? Why involve you two?” I asked, my frustration bubbling to the surface. The more I thought about it, the less sense it made—unless there was something even more twisted going on.

  Peyton glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression somber. “We’re already involved because we’re close to you. Yeah, he could’ve taken you with him whenever he left, but that isn’t how the Escuros work.”

  Melody nodded, her gaze fixed out the window as if trying to process everything herself. “They don’t just control the person they’re targeting—they control everyone around them. It’s a power play, showing you that no matter what, he’s in charge. By involving us, he’s making sure you know how deep his influence goes.”

  I slumped back in my seat, my mind racing. Peyton was right; Mateo could’ve just taken me, but he didn’t. He wanted to show me that I wasn’t just dealing with him—I was dealing with a family, a network, a world of power that extended far beyond anything I’d ever known.

  And now, because of me, Peyton and Melody were caught in the middle of it too. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, the reality of what I’d gotten myself—and them—into sinking in deeper with every passing second.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out, the guilt twisting in my gut. The weight of everything that had happened, and everything that was to come, felt like it was pressing down on my chest. I knew I had dragged Peyton and Melody into something dangerous, and the thought of them getting hurt because of me was unbearable.

  Peyton didn’t miss a beat. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, cursing under his breath. “Don’t you dare apologize, El. Not again. You think I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I agreed to help you? I’m not some naive kid. I knew the risks.”

  His tone was sharp, but there was something else there too—a fierce protectiveness that made my heart ache.

  He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his gaze softening just a fraction. “You’re my friend. That means something to me. So cut the crap and stop apologizing.”

  Melody, sitting beside me, reached over and grabbed my hand, her touch a grounding force amidst the chaos swirling in my mind. “Peyton’s right,” she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. “We’re in this together. We chose to be here with you, and we’re not going anywhere. So don’t even think about trying to shoulder all of this alone.”

  Peyton grunted in agreement, his focus back on the road, but his knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. “We’ve got your back, El. Just don’t shut us out, okay?”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. The words I wanted to say—how much their support meant to me—got stuck somewhere between my heart and my mouth.

  I flipped the folder open again and stared at the promissory note, the words blurring slightly as I tried to make sense of it all. My uncle’s name was right there, bold and undeniable, alongside a sum of money that made my head spin. And then there was the date—two months before my aunt was killed and Eva went missing.

  My stomach twisted into knots. “Why would Mateo have this? And what does it mean for the house? My parents’ estate?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion and rising anxiety.

  Peyton’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening. “El, this note means your uncle owes Mateo a lot of money. And if the deed to the estate is in Mateo’s name now, it means your uncle used it as collateral. Mateo owns your family home.”

  I blinked, trying to process the information. “But...why? Why would he do that? And why was this all set into motion two months before Aunt Molly was killed? Before Eva disappeared?”

  Melody’s eyes widened as she caught on to what I was implying. “Wait...you don’t think...”

  “Had I been looking at this all wrong?” I interrupted her, the pieces slowly starting to come together in a way I didn’t want them to. “Did my uncle have something to do with Eva’s disappearance?”

  Peyton shook his head, but the uncertainty was clear in his eyes. “I don’t know, El. But it’s looking more and more like this isn’t just about money. If your uncle was desperate enough to involve Mateo and gamble away the estate, who knows what else he might have done—or who he might have involved.”

  A cold dread settled over me as I considered the possibility. My uncle had always been controlling, but was it possible he was desperate enough to betray his own family to cover his tracks? To save his own skin?

  “I need to find out what he knows,” I murmured, my mind racing. “If he had anything to do with Eva’s disappearance, I have to know. I can’t just let this go.”

  Peyton glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression somber. “El, whatever you decide to do, we’re with you. But you need to be careful. Mateo’s not the only dangerous one in this mess.”

  I ran a hand over my face, trying to clear my mind. "I can't jump to conclusions. None of this explains Mateo's vested interest in me, especially if he already has the only thing of value my parents left behind."

  Melody exchanged a glance with Peyton before speaking, her voice gentle but firm. "I agree to a fault, El. There are too many moving pieces right now, and we still don’t know where your sister fits into all of this. But the house? That’s not the most valuable thing your parents left behind."

  I frowned, confusion knitting my brows together. "What do you mean?"

  Melody leaned forward, her gaze locking with mine. "You and Eva. You two are the most valuable things your parents left behind."

  The weight of her words hung in the air, pressing down on me. It was a truth I hadn’t fully considered, but it made sense. If Mateo wanted something more than just the house, something that would tie me to him indefinitely, what better way than to involve me—and by extension, my sister—directly in his life?

  Peyton nodded, his voice carrying the same gravity. "You’re not just a pawn in this, El. You’re a key player, whether you want to be or not. Mateo’s interest in you isn’t just about the estate. It’s about control, influence, and maybe even more. He’s not someone who does anything without a reason."

  I swallowed hard, the implications of what they were saying settling in. Mateo wasn’t just after material possessions—he was after control, and somehow, I had become central to his plans.

  "But why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why me? And why now?"

  Melody shook her head. "That’s what we need to figure out. But whatever the reason, it’s clear that you and Eva are crucial to whatever game Mateo’s playing. And that means we need to tread carefully, especially if your uncle’s involved in this too."

  I leaned my head against the cool leather of the car seat, staring out the window as we drove through the heart of the city. The cityscape outside blurred, a neon jungle that never seemed to sleep. It was a place that thrived on excess, a playground for the rich and powerful. Towering skyscrapers, their facades glittering like gemstones, rose against the darkening sky. Below, the streets were alive with a sea of people and cars, a constant pulse of movement.

  Bright neon signs flickered on every corner, offering everything from designer drugs to underground fights, as if the city itself was a living entity, breathing sin and temptation. It was a place where the lines between right and wrong blurred, where power was the ultimate currency, and where people like Mateo thrived. A place where my sister had been swallowed whole.

  I sighed, the weight of it all pressing down on me as we moved deeper into the city. The vibrant colors, the relentless energy—it was all just a façade, hiding the rot underneath. A place where people like Eva could disappear without a trace, where secrets were buried beneath layers of glitter and grime.

  And ever present, like a shadow that clung to me, was the lingering feeling of Mateo—his hands rough on my body, the way he took complete dominion over it, claiming every inch of me as his own.

  The memory of his touch sent shivers down my spine, a mix of fear and something else I didn’t want to name.

  His presence was inescapable, even now. It was as if he had left an indelible mark on me, something I couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard I tried. His control extended far beyond the physical—it was mental, and emotional, a hold that gripped me tightly and refused to let go. The city outside might have been a vibrant, chaotic mess, but inside, my thoughts were consumed by him—the dangerous stranger who now knew my body inside and out.

  We reached Mateo's home all too soon.

  The gates to his estate were already wide open when we arrived as if expecting us. As soon as Peyton’s car made it through, the gates closed behind us with a large SUV that had been following us for some time pulling in right after.

  “What the hell is that?” Melody leaned forward from the backseat, her voice tense with curiosity.

  I hesitated before answering, “It’s my… it’s my car—or pieces of it.”

  “Your car?!” Peyton exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up. “Wow, babe, it was really rough over there.”

  “Peyton,” Melody scolded, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

  I managed a weak laugh, appreciating his attempt at levity, but it didn’t last long. The sight before me was too surreal. My old PT Cruiser, or what was left of it, was stripped barren—door panels, seats, and even the steering console were gone.

  It was the skeleton of a car, and I had no idea why or when Mateo had retrieved it. I had never thought I’d see it again.

  To do this here, in plain view, was a statement. Men were still working on it, their expressions impassive as they went about their task.

  Before Peyton could bring the car to a full stop, I had the door open. “Elena—” he started, but I cut him off.

  “Stay in the car,” I demanded, grabbing the folder and stepping out, my heels clicking against the pavement as I marched straight to the front door. Without knocking, I pushed it open and didn’t bother to shut it behind me.

  I headed straight toward Mateo’s study, where I could hear voices. They all fell silent as the sound of my heels echoed down the hallway.

  “Give me a moment,” I heard Mateo say just as I reached the threshold.