Chapter 86

Chapter 86

We leave the clothing store burdened with far too many bags, Diego carrying them with effortless strength. “We’ll put these in the car before we head to the movie theater,” he says, his tone casual but commanding.

Outside, the early afternoon air is crisp, the mall lights glowing against the darkening sky. We spent far too much time in that clothing store. The car waits at the curb, trunk already open as if anticipating us. We place the bags inside; the sound of shifting fabric is muffled by the bags. I step back as Diego leans toward the driver, speaking in low tones I can’t quite catch. The driver nods, climbs back behind the wheel, and pulls away, leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

Diego’s hand finds the small of my back again, guiding me with that familiar, possessive touch as we re-enter the mall. We walk together toward the theater, scanning the glowing posters and digital screens until we settle on the new Avatar film. It doesn't start for a couple of hours, so we go to the arcade and waste the time away having a blast. I was much better at playing games than he was, so I was happy when I won most of them.

When it was close to time for the movie to start, we got in line for popcorn and drinks. The buttery scent fills the air, mingling with the sweetness of soda syrup. We carry our snacks to the ticket attendant, hand over our stubs, and walk to our dimly lit theater. With ten minutes to spare, we sink into our seats, the plush cushions swallowing us in comfort.

We talk quietly, voices low against the hum of the crowd. Diego tells me about his shipping business, how word of mouth has spread, drawing in bigger clients and larger contracts. His tone is steady, confident, though he admits he can’t always be certain what his clients are shipping. Still, he assures me the business itself is legitimate, on the up and up. I listen, fascinated by the way he balances ruthlessness with pragmatism, the way he makes even shadows sound like opportunity.

The previews begin, and I lean forward, eyes wide, oohing and ahhing at the trailers for upcoming films. It’s been so long since I’ve had the luxury of time to sit in a theater, to let myself be swept away by spectacle. When the movie starts, I’m transfixed, lost in the story and the action.

Every so often, I glance at Diego. He’s watching me more than the screen, his lips curved in that affectionate smile that makes my chest ache. His gaze is steady, warm, as if the movie is secondary to the simple fact of being here with me.

When the credits roll, we leave the theater, the buzz of conversation and laughter spilling into the hallway. I can’t contain my excitement. “That was awesome! It’s been so long since I’ve seen a movie in the theater. Thank you so much for bringing me! I had so much fun!”

Diego just smiles, his eyes soft, and runs his finger down my cheek to the curve of my neck—a gesture he seems to delight in. The touch sends shivers down my spine, a wave of warmth and want coursing through me. It’s not just affection; it’s possession, devotion, and love all tangled together in one simple motion.

Diego smiles and threads his fingers through mine. “C’mon, let’s go have dinner.” His grip is firm, steady, and I let him lead me out of the mall toward the waiting car. The driver is already there, standing with the door open as if he has a sixth sense for our movements.

We slide into the car, Diego giving the name of a posh restaurant in the center of town. Half an hour later, the city lights fade into the glow of the restaurant’s facade. We step out, and once again, Diego’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me forward with that constant, grounding touch.

Inside, the maitre d bows formally. “Mr. Fuentes, so good to have you here this evening. I’ll take you to a table right away.” His tone is reverent, almost deferential. We follow him through the main dining room, past tables draped in white linen and glittering crystal, until we reach a private room at the back.

The room is tastefully decorated, with warm light spilling across polished wood and soft fabrics. Large windows frame a view of the garden outside, where the setting sun casts golden light over the flowers. I walk to the glass, drawn to the scene. “This is so beautiful.”

“Yes,” Diego says softly. “Yes, it is.”

I turn, expecting him to be looking at the garden, but his eyes are fixed on me. Heat rises in my cheeks, and I flush, walking to my chair. He pulls it out for me, his hand brushing mine as I sit. “Thank you.”

Diego smiles, settling into his own seat. The waiter arrives, takes our drink orders, and leaves us with a moment to decide on food. I choose a classic steak and potatoes with broccoli, while Diego decides on the same but with asparagus. Drinks arrive, then the waiter departs again with our order.

Diego takes a sip of his drink, his gaze steady on me. “So, Landon. Now that everything is out in the open, why don’t you really tell me about yourself?”

I swallow hard. It was always going to come to this. No time like the present. I take a deep breath. “I was raised in a single-parent household. My mom died in a car accident when I was seven, so my dad raised me. He’s a CPA. My brother—he’s a few years older—is a high school English teacher. I became an agent young and eventually the youngest Senior Special Agent in our office. Your name and photo crossed my desk a few years ago. I was mesmerized when I saw your picture. There was something about you that called to me. So when the opportunity arose to get close to you, I jumped on it. I was torn between my duty to the Agency and my feelings for you. I guess…I let the feelings win out.”

My voice falters, sheepish. I keep my eyes on the cutlery, twisting it between my fingers, until I finally dare to glance up. Diego is smiling at me, affection written across his face. It’s surreal, seeing that look after everything we’ve endured.

“That was quite…informative,” he says.

I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well…exploring my feelings has been quite informative.”

His smile softens, gentler now. “I’ll bet it has. But I’m glad you did. Again—”

He’s interrupted by the server arriving with our food. Plates are set before us, the aroma of seared steak and roasted vegetables filling the room. We begin to eat, the clink of silverware punctuating the silence.

Then Diego clears his throat, his voice low but certain. “As I was saying…again, thank you for going against your code of honor for me. That’s the ultimate proof of loyalty. It made it easy for me to look past the betrayal.”

He pauses, his eyes locking onto mine, unwavering.

“I love you, Landon.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electrifying, more powerful than any vow.