"You were praying?" Santiago tilted his head slightly as he stepped fully into the room, his gaze settling on her with unnerving calm. "For me… or for yourself?"
His voice carried that same quiet weight, the kind that turned even the most innocent question into a trap.
Daniella didn't hesitate. She couldn't afford to.
"For you, my Lord," she answered quickly, forcing a soft, submissive tone into her words. A little flattery wouldn't kill her. Silence might.
Santiago walked past her without another glance and lowered himself onto the couch, leaning back as though he had all the time in the world. His eyes never left her, steady and unreadable.
"All right…" he said. "I'm listening. Go on."
And the worst part was that he meant it.
For one dangerous second, something dark and reckless surged in Daniella's chest, the wild urge to grab anything within reach and drive it into him, to end this nightmare in a single, desperate act.
But the impulse died as quickly as it had risen.
