Page 41 of Dark Reunion

CHAPTER 15

YASMINE

Laundry wasn’t glamorous, but it was hers. Folding clothes, scrubbing out stains, shaking sand from the twins’ shoes. It was one of the few tasks she insisted on doing herself. A small rebellion in a house where everything was controlled, cataloged, dictated, and done for her.

She liked the rhythm of it. The smell of the soap was calming. The quiet hum of water instead of guards’ boots, eased her tense muscles. Her children were napping, Ava watching them, and for once, Yasmine felt almost invisible. Almost safe in this corner of chaos.

Until she wasn’t.

The door creaked. She turned, heart stalling when she saw Carlos Ramírez step inside, closing the heavy wood behind him.

Her pulse spiked. No guards. No witnesses. Just him.

Fuck.

How did he even know to look here? Cause she was pretty sure he’d never washed a pair of his socks in his entire life.

“Señora Ramírez,” he greeted, rolling the title on his tongue. “Or perhaps I should say, señora mía.” He smirked as he slowly walked closer, like a panther on the hunt.

Her heart rate spiked.

“How convenient that we already share the same last name.” He didn’t waste time stepping into her personal space and she was assaulted by the overpowering scent of cologne and cigars.

Yasmine straightened her spine, clutching the folded shirt in her hands like a shield. “I’m sorry Señor, but I’m busy.”

Carlos’s smile widened. “A wife of Mercurio doing laundry? What a waste of those hands. You should be drinking wine, wearing jewels, and carrying the next Ramírez heir in silk, not soap bubbles.”

Her stomach knotted. “I carry what I choose.”

His gaze slid down her body, making her skin crawl. “Sí, you breed well. Four children already, and I’m sure you’ve already started trying to make a fifth. Such strong blood, I have not seen a woman like you…ever. But Mercurio…” He clucked his tongue. “He doesn’t honor tradition. Doesn’t show proper respect. I’ve determined that to make sure he understands how respect and hierarchy work, that the next heir should come from me.”

Shocked, Yasmine stepped back, but Carlos moved faster than she expected, pinning her back against the stone wall, the folded shirt dropping from her hands to the floor. One palm pressed flat beside her head, the other gripped her waist, his body pressed up against hers.

Panic rose like bile and every one of her instincts screamed. Her eyes darted to the counter. A pair of scissors gleamed in the light. One lunge, one good stab, and she could end him.

“Get off me,” she hissed, voice low and sharp. “I have tolerated your comments and disgusting innuendos, but you have just crossed a very dangerous line. I will never be yours. Not for a single minute. Dean will cut you and watch you bleed out for touching me.”

Carlos leaned close, his breath hot against her cheek. “Your fire is delicious. Mercurio is too much like his mother, always resisting, always ungrateful, and too many morals. But you? You’d make a Ramírez dynasty proud.” His hand slid up and grabbed her breas.

Yasmine growled. “This is your last warning. Let me go, before I make you.”

Carlos chuckled and terror shot through her, hot and electric, followed instantly by rage. Her muscles coiled, ready for his next move.

The alarms suddenly screamed and Yasmine jumped. The shrill, metallic howl tore through the hallway and a red light spun in the laundry room.

“What’s happening?” she asked as Carlos jerked back, eyes narrowing in fury.

The sound of explosions, the crack of automatic gunfire, and the guttural shouts of men, thundering boots, and complete insanity erupted.

“We’re under attack,” he stated, far calmer than she thought he’d be. He straightened his jacket, mask snapping back into place, as if his hands hadn’t just been on her.

“No, the kids.” Yasmine lunged for the door, but Carlos caught her around the waist and hauled her back.

“The children will be fine. Guards will have taken up station outside their door. It is you that is unsafe. Stay in here until the alarms stop sounding.”

She wanted to argue but nodded.

“I guess you’ve been saved by the bell,” he muttered, lips curling. “But remember, you live under my roof and therefore you owe me a debt. I always collect my debts.”