I knew the knock at the door was a warning.
I didn’t expect it to be a sentence.
They came in the dead of night.
Not for money. Not for retribution.
For me.
Valentín Montoya—the name that rules Buenos Aires like a whispered prayer and a curse.
A man who doesn’t negotiate. Doesn’t forgive.
And now, he owns me.
My husband’s debt should have died with him, but Montoya doesn’t believe in loose ends.
So I was dragged into his world, my daughter cradled in my arms, with no chance of escape.
I was meant to be a prisoner.
A lesson.
A possession.
But he didn’t expect me.
Didn’t expect my fire.
My refusal to break.
And I didn’t expect the storm that brews behind his silver eyes.
The grief he buries beneath bloodstained hands.
The hunger in his touch that threatens to consume us both.
He tells me I’ll learn to obey.
That my hate won’t save me.
But I know monsters.
And I won’t go down without a fight.
Even if my greatest enemy isn’t him.
