Page 8 of Legacy
No one wants Adriana Castillo.
Not really.
Because wanting me means wantingallof me—the last name, the whispers, the blood that comes with it.
It means dealing with the cartel.With my family.
But maybe tonight… just tonight…
I get to be Scarlet.
Anonymous. Reckless.Free.
“I’m going to need words.”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
Angelo’s smile curves, slow and sure, and it sends a shiver down my spine. He grabs my heels in one hand and takes my hand in the other, pulling me back through the ballroom; not toward the main exit, but to a side door. We slip into a stairwell lit by buzzing fluorescents, our footsteps echoing as we move down the emergency stairs.
Goosebumps scatter across my skin. Every instinct tells me this isn’t safe. This is stupid. This is how girls disappear.
But then again—when else will I get to do something a little bad?
Something that’smine.
So I don’t stop him.
I let him take me away, leaving the chandeliers and whispered gossip behind.
The cool night air wraps around us the moment we step outside. My lungs expand like I can finally breathe again. Parked just beyond the valet loop is a black Ferrari, sleek and gleaming under the moonlight like temptation painted in midnight. He opens the passenger door for me with an elegant little flourish, and I slide inside, the plush leather hugging my body like a secret.
He moves around to the driver’s side and climbs in, the engine roaring to life with a low, delicious growl.
As we pull away from the party, the city lights blur past us in gold streaks. My mind spins. I don’t even know this man. This is the kind of thing my friends would freak out about. The kind of thing that makes the news in all the wrong ways.
This is how girls get hurt.
And yet...
He reaches across the center console, his fingers brushing mine before gently taking my hand. His thumb moves in slow, steady circles over my knuckles. Warm. Calming.
“You’re safe with me,” he says softly, like he’s reading my panic straight off my skin. His voice is gentle, but there’s no question in it, just quiet certainty.
I swallow hard and nod, even though every nerve in my body still buzzes. And yet… I believe him.
He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for trusting me.”
And the strangest thing is… I do.
I trust him.
Or maybe I trust the version of me I get to be with him.
We drive for a while until the city gives way to quieter streets. Then, at the very edge of town, he pulls up to what looks like an old two-story industrial warehouse. For a moment I hesitate, but when his hand grips mine and his smile defuses my nerves I let him guide me inside.
And inside…up the staircase everything shifts.
It’s stunning.
