Chapter 207

I knew this moment was coming. The moment where I had to either make my presence known or let him send me away with a glance.
My hands shook, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Every part of me wanted to hide. But I wouldn’t.
I was no longer the girl who bowed her head in shame.
I lifted my face slowly, meeting his eyes with all the things I was carrying swirling inside mine. The truth, the guilt, the regret. And with that, I said the words I had been avoiding.
“I’m María José,” I whispered.
The moment I said my name, Álvaro’s face changed.
It wasn’t shock neither was it confusion. It was worse than that… it was delight. That cruel kind of delight only men like him could wear so naturally. A smirk slid onto his face like oil across glass.
At first, he slid out of the car and fitted his body into the space.
“So it’s true?” he asked, leaning against his car door with the relaxed posture of someone watching a train wreck they were enjoying far too much.
“What’s true?” I asked, swallowing hard.
He rolled his eyes like I was wasting his time, then tilted his head, eyeing me up and down in a way that made my my throat hurt.
“Camilla told me you were now ugly and homeless,” he said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. “I couldn’t fathom it. You, María José, the De la Vega’s precious little flower? Turned into a scarred, soaked stray? I thought she was exaggerating—but He spread his hands as if I were a grand reveal. “You’re actually an insult to ugliness.”
I felt the slap before it happened, though he hadn’t touched me. His words were sharp enough to inflict pain on my ego.
The guards chuckled quietly behind him, and I could feel the burn of shame crawling up my throat. I didn’t lower my eyes though. Not this time.
He whistled low, circling me like I was prey. “I have to admit, though… it’s kind of impressive. From silk sheets to a towel in the rain. I mean, what happened, Princesa? Did Daddy finally realize you weren’t worth the price tag?”
I clenched my fists. My body was trembling from the cold, the humiliation, and the sheer rage crawling beneath my skin. But I kept my eyes on him.
“I came to see Axel,” I repeated firmly.
“Oh,” he said, dragging the word out like he tasted it. “My perfect brother. Always getting the charity cases.”
“I don’t need your help,” I snapped, even though the wind whipped through the wet towel and I was shivering like a leaf. “Just let me talk to him.”
Álvaro’s smile turned thoughtful, and I instantly hated that look.
“You know,” he said slowly, tapping a finger against his chin, “Axel’s not here. But I can let you in. Let you wait in his room. He wouldn’t mind. He’s generous like that.”
A knot twisted in my gut. Something was off about how Álvaro was readily going to let me in to see Axel. But the exhaustion… the cold… the heartbreak. I needed shelter. Just a moment to breathe. Maybe he really would help, even if only to show me up later.
“I won’t owe you anything,” I pointed out quietly.
He laughed again. “Oh no, cariño. You couldn’t afford me anyway.”
Bastard.
He turned to the guards. “She’s with me.”
The guards immediately stepped aside. I forced my legs to move, my body aching from the run and soaked through. Álvaro led the way, and I followed, hating every step behind him. His swagger made my teeth grit. His cologne was too strong, musky, and arrogant, filling the hall as we entered the estate.
I expected him to lead me toward the wing where Axel I heard stayed. But we took a sharp turn, down a hallway. Since I didn’t know my way around the packhouse anyway, I shrugged it off.
My footsteps slowed.
“Is this Axel’s side?” I asked.
Álvaro didn’t look back. “You think I’d take you to my brother’s room looking like that? Relax. I have a guest room. You’ll dry off, clean up, and maybe not smell like a drowned rat.”
The air in the hallway grew colder. I hesitated and wondered since when Álvaro became such a caring brother.
“You want to see him or not?” he asked, now at the end of the hall, holding a heavy door open.
I stepped inside. What could go wrong anyway? Álvaro was going to marry Camilla in a few days. Camilla used to be my sister.
I was safe… I guess.
The room was large anyway. It was too large for a guest room. The curtains were dark and thick. The lights were dim. There were no personal touches; no photos, no books. Just a bed. A big one.
I turned to face him. Google seaʀᴄh.net
“This isn’t a guest room,” I said, already stepping back.
Álvaro shut the door behind him with a soft click. The sound was deafening.
“No, María José,” he said, smile gone. “This is my room.”
Why the hell did this son of a bitch bring me into his room?!
“I’m leaving,” I said immediately, turning for the door.
He moved faster. Blocked the exit with a grin that no longer had anything playful in it. “Why rush? You came all this way.”
“I said I want to see Axel, not come to your room.”
“And I said he’s not here,” he replied in an almost bored low voice.
“But I am. And I’m very interested in you, María José. I mean, look at you. You used to walk around like a queen. Now you’re begging in a towel. Tell me that’s not poetic.”
He’s very interested in me?!
What the fuck was he talking about when he was going to marry someone who was supposed to be my sister in days?
Was he out of his mind?
“You’re disgusting.” I spat a chunk of saliva on his leg.
His eyes trailed to it before he shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m the one standing between you and the street. Maybe you should be a little nicer to me.”
“I’d rather die.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He stepped forward slowly like a predator. I backed up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face. I flinched, shoving his disgusting hand away.
His eyes darkened. “Still got a little fight, huh?”
He reached for me again, this time grabbing my wrist.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed.
He laughed. “You really think anyone’s going to believe you? That you didn’t come in here looking for this? Look at you… wrapped in a towel, running to the packhouse in the middle of the night for my brother. You’re pathetic. Are you really that addicted to his dick?”
What the hell?
His DICK?!
Oh, Dios… Álvaro was the worst kind of man there was.