Chapter 5

　　Inés stared at her phone. The messages glowed on the screen like threats.

　　[My office. 3 PM. Don't be late.]

　　Her hands were shaking. She'd been pacing her room for two hours and it was already 2:45 PM.

　　Why does he want to see me? Does he know?

　　She'd dealt with dangerous men before. Back in their old life, her father repaired motorcycles for gang members. Rough men with scars and guns and prison tattoos. Men who looked at her like she was meat.

　　She'd survived all of that. But Miguel was different.

　　Miguel scared her in a way those men never did.

　　Those men wanted to hurt her. Miguel? She didn't know what he wanted. And that was worse. Going near a man like him will only burn you, she told herself. Focus on the mission. Pay off the debt. Keep your head down.

　　Men like Miguel were her mother's specialty anyway. Carmen knew how to handle rich, powerful men. How to smile and lie and get what she wanted. Inés had watched her do it her whole life. Even when her father was alive, Carmen had other men. Richer men. Men who gave her money and jewelry and promises.

　　Inés looked around her room. Everything was in place. Her stripper costume was tucked in a box under her bed. The rest of her things, makeup, and heels stayed at the club. She never brought them home.

　　She'd also told the cleaning staff not to enter her room. She cleaned it herself. No one could find anything suspicious if no one was allowed in.

　　Her phone buzzed. 2:55 PM.

　　Shit!

　　She grabbed another hoodie and pulled it on over her t-shirt. She looked at herself in the mirror. Blonde hair in a ponytail. No makeup. Baggy clothes that hid her body.

　　This was the Inés that Miguel knew. The boring stepsister he ignored. She took a deep breath and left her room.

　　Miguel's office was in the east wing of the mansion. The part of the house Inés usually avoided. The door was heavy wood with gold handles. She raised her fist to knock, but before she could, his voice came from inside.

　　"Come in."

　　How did he know she was there? She pushed the door open.

　　Miguel sat behind a massive desk, his laptop open in front of him. He didn't look up when she entered.

　　"Close the door," he said.

　　Inés did. The click of the lock felt too loud.

　　"Sit."

　　She sat in one of the chairs across from his desk. The leather was cold through her jeans.

　　Miguel finally looked up. His eyes were cold. Professional. Like she was a business problem he needed to solve.

　　"Do you know why I called you here?" he asked.

　　"No."

　　"No?" He leaned back in his chair. "You have no idea?"

　　Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. "You said we needed to talk."

　　"We do." He closed his laptop slowly. "I've been noticing some things, Inés."

　　He knows. Oh God, he knows.

　　"What things?" Her voice came out steady.

　　"You're never home at night." His eyes locked on hers. "Where do you go?"

　　"I study at my friend's house. My mother knows."

　　"Your mother." Miguel's laugh was cold. "Yes, I'm sure she does. You two seem very good at covering for each other."

　　What did that mean?

　　"I study late," Inés repeated. "Sometimes I fall asleep there. It's easier than coming home."

　　"What's your friend's name?"

　　"Jessica."

　　"Jessica what?"

　　"Martinez." The lie came easily. She'd practiced it.

　　Miguel pulled out his phone and typed something. Inés's stomach dropped. Was he looking her up? Could he check?

　　"Interesting," Miguel said after a moment. He put his phone down. "And why do you study so late? What classes are so important you can't come home?"

　　"Business management. Economics. Statistics."

　　"Mmm." He stood up and walked around the desk. He leaned against it, crossing his arms. He was too close now. "Do you know what I hate, Inés?"

　　"No."

　　"Liars." His voice was quiet but sharp. "People who keep secrets. People who pretend to be one thing when they're really something else."

　　Her throat went dry.

　　"My father worked his whole life to build his reputation," Miguel continued. "His company. His name. And now he's sick, probably dying. And in his last months, he married your mother."

　　He said the words like they tasted bad. "A woman who came out of nowhere with a daughter who sneaks around at night."

　　"I'm not sneaking..."

　　"Don't lie to me. CCTV caught you sneaking in several times at odd hours." His voice was harder now. "If there's anything that will bring trouble to this family, you need to tell me now. I won't tolerate deceit. I won't let you or your mother ruin what my father built."

　　Inés stood up. Her chair scraped back. "You don't get to interrogate me. Whatever I do is my business."

　　"Is it?" Miguel pushed off the desk and walked toward her slowly. Like a predator. "You're living under this roof. Eating our food. Going to school on our money. That makes it my business."

　　"I didn't ask for any of that."

　　"Then leave."

　　He was right in front of her now. Too close. She could smell his cologne. The same one from last night. "But you won't, will you? Because you need this. You and your mother both need this."

　　Her hands clenched into fists. "What do you want from me?"

　　"I want the truth." He tilted his head. "Are you seeing boys? Is that where you go at night?"

　　"That's none of your business."

　　"Answer the question."

　　"And if I am?" She lifted her chin, trying to look braver than she felt. "What I do with boys is my choice."

　　Miguel's eyes darkened. Anger flickered across his face. Then he moved.

　　He bent down slowly, like he was picking something up off the floor. But there was nothing there. It was an excuse. An excuse to bring his face close to hers.

　　His mouth was inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her lips.

　　"What do you know about boys, Inés?" he whispered.