"We will be heading away from the estates," my driver announced as he took a left turn out of the driveway.

  "Where is he having you bring me?"

  "This evening, you will dine at Dior's," he replied smoothly.

  "Alright," I said, lacking anything else to add. I had no idea what or where Dior's was, but it sounded expensive. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, making it hard to imagine eating anything.

  I gazed out the window, watching the landscape blur as my mind wandered. My thoughts drifted to a few weeks ago when Eva and I had entirely separate lives. She would be getting ready for another night in this city while I prepped for a long night at the convenience store. We would leave our home together, her easily lying to our aunt about where she was headed. Underneath her hoodie and sweatpants, she'd be wearing a revealing outfit.

  At the end of our cracked walkway, we would hug and go separate ways, unless we were arguing–which seemed to happen often towards the end. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a small, quiet breath.

  When I thought of Eva, I couldn't help but think of my parents and the fact that they were all gone. Over time, I learned that the cruelest part of death was not being able to say goodbye. It's something you never consider until you have no choice but to face it – along with all the things you wish you could take back and everything left unsaid.

  A sharp pain throbbed in my chest as if my heart was trying to break free from my ribcage. I clenched my hands together on my lap, willing the burning sensation behind my closed eyes to subside. It always seemed to happen when I least expected it, just when I thought I was getting a handle on things, the overwhelming emotions would come flooding back.

  The car continued to glide smoothly along the road, the driver's presence a silent reminder of the evening ahead. I tried to push my grief aside, focusing on my current predicament.

  I pulled my phone from my clutch and sent a quick update to Peyton and Melody. Their replies came almost instantly, offering words of encouragement and caution. It didn't take long before the bright lights of the city began to appear on the horizon. I gazed out at the dark ocean that bordered the flashy buildings, its waters so deep and dark it resembled black glass, perfectly reflecting the neon-lit skyline and vibrant nightlife.

  I had never seen the city at night. I was sent away to Aunt Molly before I was old enough to even dream of visiting. Now, it seemed something had come full circle. The driver took an exit and seamlessly maneuvered off the highway onto a road that immediately showcased the wealth of its residents and visitors. Luxury cars, each costing more than the average house, glided by, their sleek forms illuminated by the colorful glow of neon signs and streetlights. I couldn't help but marvel at the lively atmosphere.

  Palm trees swayed gently against the backdrop of a twilight sky, adding to the surreal beauty of the scene. We continued down the bustling street, the vibrant lights and sounds enveloping us. We approached a more exclusive area, the buildings becoming taller and more sophisticated, slowing near a small line of luxury cars waiting to be dropped off, bypassing them to enter the same grand location.

  There were two lanes: one for drop-offs and another for valet. There didn’t seem to be an option to park oneself. That would have been the first indication we were at an upscale restaurant, but the building itself was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Dior’s stood tall, at least three stories high, with a connecting hotel rising up behind it, its rooftop vanishing into the night sky. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves as I watched impeccably dressed women entering the building with their suited companions. I felt out of place among them, but I had to act like I belonged.

  This was for Eva, for Aunt Molly, and for me. Despite feeling like an imposter, I knew I could pull off pretending to fit in. After all, there were probably other women doing the same thing tonight. My driver opened my door, and I stepped out of the car with one final steadying breath.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The moment I stepped out of the car, a man built like a brick house approached me. His eyes were also concealed behind a pair of sunglasses. Did Mateo's men have some kind of uniform code to abide by?

  "Good evening, Miss Castello," he greeted me respectfully, his accent similar to Mateo's. "Please, follow me."

  I nodded, taking a deep breath as I followed him into the restaurant. We bypassed the sign where patrons were checking in, moving effortlessly past people dining, all exuding wealth and sophistication. I didn't allow myself to meet anyone's eye. I was certain there were at least one or two diners that would recognize me. Instead, I focused on the interior of the restaurant. Loathe as I was to admit, the place was stunning.

  The ambiance was a perfect blend of elegance and warmth, with wicker pendant lights casting a soft, golden glow.

  Each table was adorned with fresh flowers and pristine linens. The soft hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of fine China and crystal glasses. Servers in crisp uniforms moved gracefully between tables, attending to guests with the utmost care.

  My guide led me right through all of it. We ascended the stairs and moved through a set of glass doors, emerging onto a breathtaking rooftop bar and dining area. The cityscape glittered below, a sea of lights stretching into the night. Despite the opulence, the rooftop was empty, save for one figure—Mateo.

  Even from behind, he exuded an unnerving degree of power, his presence commanding and almost palpable. His broad shoulders and confident stance made it clear he was a man accustomed to control.

  I couldn't deny how attractive I found him, a magnetic pull that was both thrilling and terrifying. Peyton’s last warning echoed in my head, and I almost laughed. He stood near the edge, looking out over the city, but turned as we approached. The man who had escorted me gave a slight nod and stepped back, leaving me to face Mateo alone. As his eyes roamed over me, I suddenly felt ridiculous, like a child playing dress-up. But his heated gaze told a different story—one where he didn’t share my doubts.

  Mateo began to approach, his steps measured. "You look beautiful. You are beautiful," he corrected.

  I swallowed hard and peeked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a bartender that had previously gone unnoticed. So, he wasn't completely alone after all, but there was no guard in sight. My eyes drifted back to Mateo as he reached out and traced a finger from my jawline down to my chin.

  "It's not wise to look at anyone else when I'm standing right in front of you."

  I took a deep breath and caught a whiff of his cologne - a captivating blend of spice and warmth. "You do realize that's a woman, right?"

  His gaze darkened. "Possession knows no gender, Elena."

  Sensing the conversation veering off course already, I decided to change the subject. "This rooftop is beautiful," I commented, gesturing around us.

  He placed his hand on the small of my back, sending shivers through me as he led me towards a central table. "It's one of my favorite spots."

  Looking up at him, I asked, "Do you own this restaurant?"

  "I own this entire city," he replied with a grin, pulling out my chair for me. I couldn't hide my surprise, and he chuckled. "Don't act so shocked. A gentleman should always treat a lady with respect."

  "Of course," I replied with a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone.

  He rounded the table and sat across from me, sliding his phone away after tapping out a quick text. Without a word, the bartender approached with his drink of choice and a margarita for me, made exactly the way I liked it.

  I gave Mateo a questioning look. "How did you know?"

  "You ordered this the other night," he said simply.

  "The club. That's yours too," I deduced.

  "Among other things," he replied, his eyes locking onto mine, making it clear just how extensive his reach was. I reached for my glass and took a sip, the hints of Patrón in the strawberry mix already helping to soothe my nerves. The door I came through opened, and servers appeared carrying an array of dishes, plating them on the table with practiced precision.

  "A medium-rare Wagyu steak with truffle butter," one server announced, setting the plate before me.

  "An heirloom tomato and burrata salad," another added, placing the vibrant dish to the side.

  "And for condiments, we have béarnaise sauce, black garlic aioli, and aged balsamic reduction," a third server listed, arranging the small, elegant bowls within easy reach.

  I glanced at the spread, feeling both overwhelmed and impressed. Mateo watched me with an amused glint in his eye, clearly enjoying my reaction.

  "This is... extravagant," I managed to say, trying to keep my composure.

  "Consider it a very small taste of what this life has to offer," Mateo replied smoothly.

  As the servers finished their meticulous setup and retreated, I looked back at Mateo, my curiosity piqued even further.

  There was no denying his power and influence, but the question of his true intentions lingered in my mind. I waited until the servers were gone before speaking. "Are you going to tell me why this was necessary?"

  "Do I need to feed you again?" he deflected, his tone teasing yet laced with a hint of command.

  I swallowed, remembering the last time he had insisted on feeding me. "No, I can manage."

  "Good. Now, eat. We have much to discuss, and I want you to be comfortable."

  I nodded and picked up my fork, cutting it into the perfectly cooked steak. The flavors were rich and decadent, each bite reminding me just how far removed this world was from my own. As I ate, Mateo watched me intently, his gaze never wavering. It was as if he was assessing every move I made, every expression that crossed my face.

  Even when he ate his own food, his attention remained fixed on me. Unnerving was an understatement.

  "I've noticed something about you, anjinho," he said, breaking the silence.

  I swallowed my bite of food and reached for the cloth napkin. "Noticed what about me?" I asked, dabbing at my lips.

  "You respond better when told what to do."

  "What?" I blurted out, caught off guard.

  "You'll see," he replied smoothly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I think we should get to why we're really here."

  "I agree," I replied, my curiosity and apprehension mingling.

  Mateo leaned back, his gaze piercing. "I need a wife, and you want to know where your sister is. You help me, and I will do everything in my power to help you."

  I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in.

  The temperature seemed to drop, and the sounds of the rooftop faded into the background as his words sank in. "You need a wife? Surely you don't mean me."

  "I do mean you. Forgive me, I misspoke. Elena, you will be my wife," he declared with an air of finality.

  My mind raced as I tried to process this unexpected turn of events. This was not what I had imagined would happen. The weight of the situation bore down on me. The only thing keeping me anchored was the promise of finding Eva, but at what cost? Marrying Mateo meant becoming entangled in a world I had always fought against, one dominated by power and darkness.

  Was it truly possible for me to do that? Could I actually marry Mateo in order to find my sister? The decision felt daunting, but as his penetrating gaze locked onto mine, I realized I may not have a choice in the matter.

  His level of authority and power made it clear that this was not a mere suggestion, but rather a demand disguised as a proposal.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The problem with Mateo's proposal was that I had no clue what he wanted from me in return. Although I'd made some questionable choices in the past, I was not blind to manipulation. This wasn't a love story or a passionate affair—we were strangers. Not only that, but this man could have his pick of any woman he desired. There had to be a deeper motive behind his sudden need for a wife, and unfortunately, I was caught in the middle of it all.

  "Why me?" I managed to ask calmly, despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "What do you gain from marrying me?"

  He studied me thoughtfully. "It's partly out of necessity. You possess something that I need."

  I furrowed my brow, mixing confusion with unease. "And what is that, exactly?"

  "Your background," he responded smoothly.

  "Your family name. The connections you may not even realize you have. By marrying you, I solidify alliances and increase my power and influence. And in return, I will help you find Eva. I will utilize every resource available to me to lead you to her."

  Two things he said stood out to me, etching themselves into my mind like a sharp blade. First was the way he confidently stated he would lead me to my sister. Melody and Peyton had suggested he already knew her whereabouts; it was clear this information came at a price. Second, his mention of my family connections, nearly made me choke on my sip of water.

  "Have you seen the state of my so-called family?" I scoffed, unable to believe that anyone would see value in them, especially Uncle Luis.

  Mateo's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained unnervingly calm. "I have," he responded coolly.

  "And I know there's more to your family's legacy than meets the eye. Your lineage holds weight, Elena, more than you might understand right now. Aligning with you provides me with leverage in ways that go beyond the obvious."

  I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around his words. The idea of me specifically wielding any sort of power or influence seemed absurd. If that were true, I wouldn’t have been on that rooftop with him. "I think you're giving me too much credit," I muttered.

  Mateo leaned forward, his piercing gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. "No," he stated firmly. "You have value, Elena, and together, we can leverage that value to achieve our respective goals."

  The enormity of the situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. The promise of finding Eva was the enticing bait, but the price was undeniably high, just as I knew it would be.

  "You're asking a lot," I said quietly, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of his proposition.

  "And I'm offering a lot in return," he replied smoothly as if sealing the deal with each word spoken between us.

  My surprise couldn’t be tempered. His words, his geniality, once again threw me into a state of confusion “I don’t know what to say… this honestly isn't how I saw this conversation going.”

  “I know.” His voice dripped with dark amusement as he cut into his food with precise, calculated movements. "I could practically see the thoughts swirling in your pretty little head. You thought I would fuck you the moment we were alone, take what's between your legs without mercy." He leaned closer, lips twisting into a cruel smirk. "But let me make one thing clear--I am not some inexperienced teenage boy who can't control himself.”

  I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "And I'm not just any girl you can have," I retorted, my voice steadier than I felt.

  "That’s an adorable show of strength, but I already have you, anjinho," he stated coolly. "And tonight, I have every intention of taking my time and savoring every inch of your body before finally breaking you and making you mine.” His eyes swept over my face noting my reaction. "Although I must admit, sitting you on this table and tasting your pussy right here and now is tempting...but first, you will be properly wined and dined like the lady you are."

  "That's..." I trailed off and took another sip of water, hoping he couldn't tell how flushed my face was. "Like I said, I didn't expect that. I didn't expect anything to happen tonight."

  "Then you're all the more naive."

  I shook my head. I wasn't going to have that type of discussion with him.

  "Do I have to decide now?" I asked, trying to buy some time to process.

  He paused, looking up at me with an unsettling calm. "All you need to do is enjoy your meal. The decision has already been made."

  "What does that mean?"

  "What's the point in pretending you may turn down my offer, or that I'd let you?" he continued, his eyes boring into mine.

  "Do you hear yourself right now?" I asked, incredulity coloring my voice.

  “I do. And so that there’s no surprise later on,” his eyes locked onto mine with an unwavering intensity. "You will be completely and utterly mine. I mean that in every barbaric, possessive, and fucked-up way imaginable."

  I couldn't come up with a quick response to counter his words, no feminist ideals to argue against his offer. Ultimately, he was right, and I would have to accept it.

  I observed him closely, taking in every detail of his appearance: the perfectly styled dark hair, the sharp jawline that looked even more defined in the low light, and his captivating eyes that always seemed to hold power and mystery. He was gorgeous. He was also twisted to the core and unapologetic in his actions.

  "So, tell me. What does me being your wife look like?" I asked, trying to maintain a semblance of control.

  He reached for his drink with a grin, the glass catching the light as he lifted it. "I could tell you, but I'd rather show you."

  "And how would you do that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my apprehension.

  "I'd start with us finishing our meal," he replied smoothly. "And you relaxing with a drink."

  I wasn’t hungry, but I still remembered the last time I’d said that to him. Reluctantly, I picked up my fork and continued eating.

  I knew this dinner would be the last meal we shared before everything changed between us.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  One drink had turned into a few too many, and I was pleasantly buzzed. The city lights blurred into streaks of color outside the window, creating a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere. I slouched in Mateo's passenger seat, more comfortable than I should've been as we headed back towards the estates. I glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. He looked composed, every bit the powerful man he was, even in this relaxed setting.

  My mind swirled with the events of the evening, his words, his promises, and the undeniable pull between us I was trying to ignore. I laughed to myself wondering what the point of that was. If I were to be this man's wife, I would most certainly be in his bed. I didn't entirely hate the idea of being pinned beneath him. If that's what it took to bring my sister back to me, well, I could think of worse fates.