"You spoke to her."
The waiter I'd seen talking to Ayla blinked nervously. "She asked for directions."
I tilted my head.
"Next time, lose your sense of direction."
I'd said it calmly before leaving the gallery.
Then I'd seen Lorenzo's hand around her.
And that was all it took to ignite the jealousy already simmering in my blood.
And the thought of Don Alejandro Álvarez's proposal—of letting Ayla go—made everything worse.
But that was what I needed to do.
So I'd decided fucking her would fix it.
Probably get her out of my system.
End the obsession.
But no.
My cock was buried inside the woman whose body had haunted my thoughts for over a year—and she was nothing like the fantasy.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself not to look down.
But I did.
Because part of me hoped it wasn't true.
Part of me wanted proof that the suspicion clawing at the back of my mind was wrong.
It wasn't.
She was a virgin.
And I had just taken it.
"Fuck."
