The faint roar of an engine pierced the silence.
Her head snapped up.
A black vehicle pulled in slowly—
The gold lion crest on the hood glinted under the moonlight.
Her heart dropped.
She knew that car.
Daddy.
The door opened, and her father stepped out—Don Marcelo Latino. Impeccably dressed in black, tall, cruel, and terrifying even in silence.
He didn't say a word at first.
Just stared at her—his disappointment louder than a scream.
Then, slowly, he walked toward her.
"You embarrassed me," he began,calmly.
Raven swallowed hard. "Daddy—"
He raised a hand, and she froze.
"I watched you," he said coldly. "Every pathetic second. You think I didn't have cameras watching the only fucking heiress of the Latinos? My men saw everything—your towel, your giggling, your damn drink trick. What were you doing? Flirting? Dreaming?"
She looked down, tears burning her lashes.
"I gave you one job," he hissed, crouching to her level. "And you couldn't even seduce a drunk man?"
