Page 49 of King of Hearts

“Uh…” I wet my lips, pushing past the urge to moan. “With one condition: I return when I turn twenty-one and agree to marry Markos. My mother agreed, so did I…but then she immediately married Charlie, thinking the wealth and power would help create a buffer of protection for us both, mainly me.”

Juan’s eyes went wide and his lips parted as though he was finally connecting the dots. Yes, my mother was a gold digger, but she would have done anything to protect me. No one would ever know that she had fought it, that she hadn’t even meant to meet Charlie, or that he had fallen for her, offering his riches before she ever had a chance to steal them.

“Being married to Charlie did shield us. He was there that night I came back after hearing about Markos. I was sobbing on the floor of our one-bedroom apartment…Mom and I had shared a bed…we were so poor, but still I preferred it to visiting my father. That weekend, he’d stayed local instead of going back to New York. He had planned to deliver a reminder to a family that had forgotten where their loyalty lay. Markos had shown up to assist my father…he…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say out loud the horrors I had witnessed that night, why I hadn’t been able to stop crying or screaming, why I couldn’t risk being married off any sooner. “Anyway, Charlie made sure we had extra security around us at all times…not just because we were the heirs to a massive fortune, but because of Ivan and his wolves.”

“Which is why the townhouse was always occupied by his security team,” Juan mused.

I nodded. “I tried everything to get myself out of this, which is why I tried to take over the New York office for Charlie last spring…I was terrified to go back to the city, but I thought if I had a position of power, my father would leave me alone. In the end, I was just a fool playing a game, like a little girl wearing her mother’s shoes and pearls.”

I tucked hair behind my ears, hating how my face heated. The shame from all my antics, how much I had left Mallory out of…how much I was willing to take from her father, just to keep myself safe.

“So, what’s your real name then? Taylor isn’t Hungarian…neither is Beck.” Juan smirked, moving his hands up my calf. I wore shorts or a dress most days due to the humidity, and I was never more grateful for that than right in this moment.

“My name is Aurelia Varga. I changed it after my mother left with me and put me in public school. Kids made fun of me, and I didn’t want my father’s enemies to come for me. So, I picked names from celebrities I followed at the time.”

The man rubbing my foot narrowed his eyes, his dark brows wrinkling. “Taylor…and Beck?”

My face warmed as he attempted to figure out my childhood obsessions.

“Taylor Swift?” His eyebrow rose.

I covered my face. “Yes. Oh my god, don’t make fun of me.”

“And…what’s Beck from?”

“I was obsessed with David Beckham,” I confessed through parted fingers, barely revealing my tomato red face.

“My, my, my…” Juan chided, shaking his head.

I tried to kick him in the chest with my foot, but he grabbed my ankle with one hand and slid his other up my leg.

The heat from his fingers burned my skin, leaving me fevered. My hormones were so intense that even the lightest, playful touch was getting me worked up.

“So…” I tugged my foot free. “Your turn.”

Tan hands tunneled through raven hair, forcing the wayward pieces back. It was a really fucking hot move, and I wanted him to do it again and again, preferably while I touched myself.

“Maria, your aunt, told me a little bit about your mom, and your dad…or dads…” I tugged on the hem of my shorts. “Seems we have a similar past.”

Juan nodded, watching my fingers play with loose strings.

“When we came back to the States, my mother was still tied to El Peligro, whether she wanted to be or not. She had little choice, same with Leo, the man she married. Manuel wasn’t easy on us and was constantly taking me without their permission. He’d force me to watch everything he did, make shipments, meet with clients, get drinks with associates. He’d even fuck while I stayed outside the room in the hall, listening to every disgusting sound happening on the other side. He was a rough man, and I’ll never forget him opening the door once and seeing the woman inside, crying while dabbing at her bleeding lip.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.” I ducked my head, wishing I could have somehow protected him from seeing or hearing what he did.

“Something tells me you went through a few things similar. Otherwise you’d be outraged, not just sorry.”

My eyes bounced up, meeting his, truly seeing him for who he was, what they’d made him into. It was like looking in the mirror, seeing someone who finally found the tucked-away pieces of yourself, the ones you hoped no one would ever find…only to find they had the same exact ones.

“My father used to teach me lessons,” I mumbled, unsure if I wanted to confess this.

Juan captured my other foot and began rubbing slow circles into the soles.

“What kind of lessons?”

“The kind where I shot innocent animals and stayed in the room while they bled out.”

“Fuck,” Juan whispered, shaking his head.

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