seem bothered by the sight of his scar, I realize that it wasn’t modesty or shame that drove him to cover it all this time. It was me.
He didn’t want me to see it, and I doubt that fear of my reaction was his motive. He wanted to make sure that he held all the cards at his disposal until the last possible second, shielding his supposed identity as Pia’s brother.
Which means that he doesn’t think I’m quite as stupid as he pretends.
“Morning. Did you enjoy your breakfast?” he asks, his tone flat in comparison to his laughter.
I force a smile in return. “It was marvelous. I was starving, thank you.”
I see his eyebrow go up, and I get the sense that he’s wrestling with storming into my room and seeing the tray for himself. Instead, he snaps his fingers, and a woman appears in the doorway, too short to be Alexi.
“Ada-Maria is done with her breakfast, Ines,” Domino says, which I assume is her cue to go check.
In the meantime, he nods toward the lounger Alexi vacated.
“Have a seat.”
I deliberately skip over the lounger he indicates, claiming the one slightly further apart, just beyond his reach.
His eyes narrow at the insolence. To my shock, though, he doesn’t call me out directly. Instead, he sits back, crossing his arms to inspect me with a searching glance that has me squirming.
“I’ll give you one last chance to rethink lying to me,” he says, his voice soft and nonthreatening—which just makes me even more on edge. I don’t trust this suddenly patient side of him. A threat lurks beneath it, I’m sure of that. “Admit now that you were playing a game, and when I whip you in punishment, I’ll do so gently.”
The genuine excitement in his voice chills me to the core—though it shouldn’t. Hurting me is one of the few things that seems to arouse Domino Valenciaga.
That, and when I dare to step toe to toe with him and play devious mind games of my own.
“And if I’m not lying?” I counter, lifting my chin to hold his gaze unflinchingly. “What will I win?”
His teeth flash in a dangerous smile, his laughter coarse, echoing throughout this part of the terrace. “You’ll earn time,” he says. “Trust me, that’s the most precious commodity you can attain at a moment like this.”
Because he’s the one who decided to leverage my “time” in the first place by selling me. He’s the monster in this equation—I can’t forget that.
Even if I have to pretend to make nice with him long enough to earn as many precious seconds as I can.
“I think I know where you can start looking,” I say, phrasing my wording carefully. I’m not outright claiming to know where Pia’s body is—or if she’s really dead. But if he hopes to find something, I’m the best option he has.
All I have to do is see the world from Roy Pavalos’ cruel, calculated viewpoint. Where most men would see a plain, featureless map, my father would see territory ripe for the taking and various features to exploit.
As long as he worked for him, I’m sure Domino knows exactly how his old boss used to operate. He wouldn’t demand an answer from me if he didn’t think I was capable of coming up with one, either because my father told me or because I happened to guess.
Aware of that, his sly grin falls.
“I’m the best chance you have,” I say, risking provoking him by prodding his weakness outright. I can’t help it. For once, I have some semblance of an upper hand.
For a heartbeat, of course.
A second later, he’s on his feet, approaching me slowly. I shiver as he places one hand on my shoulder. His fingers flex, teasing me with a fraction of his strength, a mere reminder of the damage he’s capable of.
“Don’t think you can jerk me around, Ada-Maria,” he warns, using that same hand to brush a stray curl from my cheek. “I could kill you right now, and never even have to justify why I changed my mind.” He strokes a path up to sink his fingers through my hair, capturing a handful of it. Brutally, he yanks, so hard that tears spring to my eyes. “Understand?”
“Again, you keep hinting that you have no intention of honoring your own offer,” I croak, blinking back unwanted tears. Gradually, he releases the pressure, still keeping his hand against my skull. “Why should I even trust you?”
His nostrils flare, his eyes darkening