Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Landon

I’ve been savoring the way Diego dotes on me. Two weeks left until the deal goes down, and he’s been more attentive than ever, as if each day is a gift he refuses to waste.

This morning, when I woke up, Diego was still at home. I rolled over in bed and found him sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. The sight made me smile instantly. The cup looked small, fragile even, dwarfed by his broad hand, and I lay there watching him sip, content just to take him in.

He glanced up, catching me with that signature smirk. “Awake, are we? You should get up. I want to spend the day with you outside—doing things.”

I grinned mischievously. “Doing things, huh? What kind of things?”

His smirk deepened. “I want to take you shopping. I want to see a movie with you. And I want us to sit down for a nice meal. It feels like too long since we’ve done that.”

My smile faltered slightly, guilt pricking at me. That was on me—the reason we’d been too broken to enjoy simple time together. But Diego hummed softly, cutting through my thoughts. “None of that. Today will be a good day. Only good thoughts.”

I brightened again, nodding. “Fine. I’ll go shower and get dressed.”

I slipped out of bed naked, feeling his eyes on me like a touch, a shiver running down my spine as I crossed into the bathroom. The shower steamed hot, water cascading over me, washing away the heaviness of memory. After drying off, I moved to the closet, pulling out something casual. At the dresser, I bent to retrieve underwear—only to hear Diego’s voice, low and sultry.

“Wear lace. I want to think about that underneath your clothes all day.”

Heat rushed to my face. I grabbed a pair of blue lace boy shorts, dropped the towel, and slid them up my legs. Straightening, I heard Diego’s approving hum behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his eyes glued to my ass, hunger written in his gaze. I chuckle softly and finish dressing.

“Okay,” I say lightly, “let me get some breakfast and coffee, and then we can be off.”

Diego nods, already picking up the phone to order food. I walk over, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, but before I can pull away, his hand flashes out and grips the back of my neck. He pulled me in, deepening the kiss until I groaned against him, my body melting. When he finally released me, I was breathless, swaying on my feet.

Diego chuckled. “Sit down, baby boy. Before you fall.”

I dropped heavily into a chair across from him, rubbing my lips with my fingers. “That’s a nice thing to get early in the morning.”

His smile was wicked, promising. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Diego called, and the staff stepped in carrying trays. They set them down before us and excused themselves. Diego gestured toward the food. “Okay, eat up, so we can get our day started.”

I dug in enthusiastically, excitement bubbling in me. It had been far too long since we’d had a day like this, and I missed it. I finished quickly, bouncing in my seat as I waited for Diego. When he finally wiped his mouth with his napkin, I jumped up, grabbing his hand.

“C’mon! Let’s go!”

Diego smiled indulgently, gathering his things and slipping them into his pocket. Together, we walked downstairs and out to the waiting car, where the driver was already standing at attention with the door open. I never saw Diego contact him, but somehow the man always knew when we were going somewhere.

I slid into the car, Diego following close behind. The driver settled behind the wheel. “Where to, boss?”

“The mall,” Diego replied, his tone casual, almost offhand.

I blinked at the ease in his voice. Casual Diego. It felt strange, almost out of place, like seeing a predator lounging in the sun.

We arrive at the mall, the car gliding to a stop in front of the entrance. The driver steps out smoothly, opening Diego’s door first. Diego unfolds from the car with his usual grace, then turns, extending his hand toward me. I take it, letting him pull me out, the warmth of his palm grounding me. His hand settles on the small of my back as we walk toward the glass doors, his touch both protective and possessive.

Inside, the air is cool, scented faintly of polished wood and expensive cologne. Diego doesn’t hesitate—he steers me directly toward a high-end men’s clothing store. The moment we cross the threshold, a staff member materializes with practiced precision, making me jump slightly.

“Mr. Fuentes and guest,” he greets smoothly. “What are you looking for today? I’ll be glad to point you in the right direction. Or if you’d like recommendations, I’d be happy to help.”

Diego’s gaze sweeps the store, sharp and assessing. “Bring us all the latest casual wear you have. Should you measure him first?”

The staff member nods. “Yes, that would be best for the most optimal fit. Mr.—”

I cut in quickly. “Landon is fine.”

He nods again, professional but polite. “Mr. Landon, if you would follow me, I’ll be happy to take your measurements.”

I glance at Diego, who gives me a subtle nod. I follow the staffer into the fitting room, Diego trailing behind at a slower pace, his presence filling the space even before he sits down on the couch.

The staff member gestures for me to remove my clothes. I strip down, leaving only the lace boy shorts Diego insisted on this morning. The flush on the man’s face is immediate, though he tries to keep his eyes averted as he works. His tape measure brushes against my skin lightly, his hands steady but his composure strained. He jots numbers into a small notebook, his movements brisk, efficient.

Once finished, he clears his throat. “You can have a seat. I’ll bring the clothes for you to try on momentarily. Would you like some refreshments?”

I sink onto the couch beside Diego, nodding. “I’ll take some water, please. Thank you.”

Diego hums in agreement. “Same.”

The man disappears, returning a few minutes later with a tray. Two glasses of water, lemon slices in a small bowl beside them. He sets it down carefully, nods once, and exits.

I pick up my glass, drop a slice of lemon in, and take a slow sip. The coolness steadies me as I glance at Diego. “So…I’ve been trying not to be too anxious about this deal. I really want it to go off without a hitch.”

Diego nods, his expression calm, controlled. “Everything will be fine, as long as everyone plays their parts. I have a couple of men willing to do a little time for playing hired hands, so long as I take care of their families while they’re inside. I told them to tell the cops that Antonio hired them just for this job—that it’s the first time they’ve worked for him. They shouldn’t get too much time, since they’ll get a lesser charge.”

I nod, my gaze drifting off into the distance, the weight of it all pressing down. “That sounds like a good plan. They’ll take me in, too, and I’ll make sure I’m telling the same story. That way, they don’t get too much time.”

The words hang between us, heavy, even in the polished luxury of the fitting room. The contrast is stark—fine clothes, lemon water, and beneath it all, the quiet planning of sacrifice and survival.