She’s referring to the bespoke Canali cream suit stitched around my frame with such mastery, I’d venture a guess there isn’t another in the world like it. It was made to please me alone, but Mercedes has always had a taste for the finer things in life. A side effect of the family disease we call wealth. Wealthy doesn’t even begin to touch on our lineage. We bleed gold.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. “You should be offering your services where they are needed.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” She pouts. “Oh, how you wound me, my dear brother. As soon as I received your message, I gave my notice and came straight back home.”

“You should have stayed,” I answer flatly. “Your presence isn’t required.”

Ignoring my sharp remark, she meets my gaze in the mirror. “Tell me the truth. Is it really happening now?”

“Yes. I have no choice. Eli has fallen ill, forcing my hand.”

Mercedes releases a breath, and a slow smile bleeds across her crimson lips. “Finally.”

“You have other things to occupy your time,” I tell her. “Like finding some poor soul to marry you. This isn’t your concern.”

She steps in front of me, grabbing me by the lapels as she glares up at me. “I’m not leaving. This isn’t just about you. You aren’t the only one who lost them, and you aren’t the only one who’s been waiting years for revenge.”

For a moment, a frisson of guilt moves through me. I know I’m not the only one who lost them. Our entire family is dead, and Mercedes has been leaving an unchecked wake of devastation in her path ever since. But she can’t be levelheaded about this. If it were up to her, revenge would be bloody and swift, leaving a gaping hole of discontentment that could never be filled. She doesn’t have the patience or the foresight to see the possibilities of drawing it out. A swift death is only preferable to those who are on the receiving end of it.

“You will have your revenge.” I pry her hands off my suit. “But it will be done my way.”

“Of course it will.” She placates me with a soft tone. “All I’m asking for is a front row seat. I want to help. Whatever task you give me, no matter how small, I will savor it. Please, Santiago. Let me be a part of this.”

“I will consider it.”

The sales assistant returns with more dresses, hanging them up and asking if I require anything else at the moment before she disappears again. As I stalk toward them, Mercedes is right beside me, her eyes fixed on the side of my face.