Coming March 13th, 2026

The sound cracks through the air like a shot before I have time to recognize what’s happening. I let out a small chuckle when my head snaps back, and I’m met with big brown eyes glaring back at me. 

“Well, hello, Kitten, I wasn’t expecting you to visit.” I look down at the orange tabby cat meowing at her feet.  

“What the fuck are you doing here, Efren?” It’s the way her eye twitches when she speaks to me. 

“This is where I live, Almita. The better question is what are you doing here?” Her hand reaches out to strike again, but I catch her fist in mine. 

“Slap me again, and I’ll pull your pants down and slap your fucking bare cunt,” I warn her. 

Her eyes widen before she huffs. The shocked expression falls from her face, replaced by a scowl. 

When did she get so feisty? And why is it turning me on?  

Her eyes stay wildly pinned to mine. She’s dressed in sweat pants and a faded white and orange Houston Astros T-shirt. The orange complements her skin and the dark brown ringlets that fall loosely from the clip holding her hair. My body begs to close the distance between us. My dick strains against my pants, and I release her arm before I lose the little amount of control I have left. 

Patience, Efren. Patience.

“This has to be some kind of mistake.” She steps away from me and pulls out her phone. 

I run my fingers through my hair and roll my neck. The orange cat rubs against my leg, and I bend down to pet the little guy. Alma’s eye twitches again as she listens to the ringing on the other end of her phone. Persistently, she dials the number again. And again. And guess what, the third time is not the charm. No answer. 

“Oh my god! Mireya! Pick up!” she shouts after the fifth consecutive failure.  

“If you want, I can call Adrian?” I offer. 

“Why are you here, Efren?” she whines.

No. The fight can’t be dying from her this quickly. I love this new and improved, feisty Alma. 

“Adrian offered me the penthouse, so I took it. Why are you here?” I cross my arms, and her eyes roam my bare chest as if she’s seeing it for the first time. Red blooms in her cheeks when her eyes come back to mine, and she looks away. 

“I can’t fucking believe this. Mireya offered me the penthouse but didn’t say I’d have a roommate. You need to leave.”

I bust out laughing in response. 

“I’m serious, Efren. I don’t want to be mean, but I can’t be around you.”

Can’t be around me? I’m her goddamn knight in shining armor, and she can’t be around me? 

“I was here first, so if my presence bothers you so much, there’s the fucking door.” My voice is elevated as my hand motions to the door in front of us. 

“Why the hell are you in Houston? Are you stalking me?”

Yes. But I don’t say that because it’s only a fraction of the truth. She was just a bonus to my arrival.  

“I was here before you. Locked up. Remember?” I ask, quirking a brow. “Are you stalking me?”

“What? No.” Her face flushes red, and it’s fucking adorable how frustrated she is.

“What I want to know is why you’ve been hiding from me?” I inch closer to her, and she walks backward into the wall. 

Her breath hitches. I’m close enough to feel her chest collide with mine. We stare each other down in an intense game of power. Neither of us will back down. 

“What are you afraid of, darling?” My lips are inches from hers. 

She trembles, and I glide my knuckle across her jaw. She cowers at the touch, turning her face, then quickly snapping her eyes back to focus on mine. 

“Wait… it was you.” Her eyes burn a hole into mine. ”It was fucking you.” 

She shoves my chest, but she’s not strong enough. I barely move an inch. A laugh slips from me, and her face fills with fury.

There she is. 

I love a heated Alma. 

How far can I push her? 

Is her hate enough to fuel her untapped desires? Alma loves playing the good girl, but deep down, I know her temperament. I’d seen a flicker of it in her eyes the day I shredded her note. 

“Is this some kind of sick game? You think ‘cause Esteban’s dead that you now have dibs on me? That’s not how this fucking works, asshole.” She pushes against my chest again, but it’s useless. 

Her jaw is tight. I wrap my fingers around her face. Up close, I can see every perfect detail of hers. A feral little kitten, convinced she can fight a lion. I don’t think, I move. I lean in and kiss her. Hard and possessive, prying my tongue between her teeth. Her fist connects with my shoulder. It hurts the way a punch from a toddler would. 

I don’t budge.

Her fight dies, her body molding into me. The movement of her tongue hunting for the barbell jewelry on mine. She makes a soft whimper then stills, all tension folded inward like a snapped wire. I pull back, watching color bloom across her cheeks, heat and humiliation and something else I can’t name. My voice is low, coiled with the thing I came to do. 

Expose her.

“You can think whatever you want, Almita. I’m onto you.” My thumb drags once against the edge of her jaw, light enough to be a courtesy but heavy enough to mark the line. “I don’t know what you’re doing here in Houston, or why you’re living a double life, but I’ll find out.”

Her breath quickens. A possessive desire knots inside my chest until my next words come out like a blade.

“And while I’m here, if you plan on fucking any man, be prepared for more bodies to drop.” I release her hand from my coat and step back toward the bedroom.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she shouts from behind me.

I stop, my hand on the doorknob, and let the silence hold a beat. Then I say, soft and sure, the only honest thing I can.

“Por ti.”