_ Weakest Link

Did they really just sit there, these two full-grown men, and talk about María José, Don Diego's own flesh and blood… like she was nothing? Like her only fucking purpose in life was to be scapegoated whenever something went wrong?

My breath came in sharp bursts through my nose, my entire body quivering with the effort it took to not storm over there and tear them both apart.

I had known Don Diego was cruel. That much was obvious from the moment I found María José in that butchery. But this?

This was something else.

This was intentional.

He didn't punish her out of anger. He didn't lash out because he was drunk, or because he lost his temper. No, Don Diego had stood there and made a rational decision to frame her. To strip away what little dignity she had left. To sacrifice her.

For his own fucking convenience.

Rage burned through me. Hugo snarled inside my head, seething, pacing, demanding blood.