"It doesn't matter if they have concrete proof," I tell her. "It is ultimately up to me since I am alive, and I am her husband. I could feed her to the wolves, or I can handle it myself. You already know my chosen course. We will go through the motions of the trial because Ivy deserves every ounce of fear it will instill in her. But I am her true judge, jury, and executioner."

My sister nods and swallows, dipping her head as she seems to consider something. “No mercy. That’s what Father always used to say. I suppose that is the De La Rosa motto.”

A chill moves over me when it occurs to me she’s comparing me to him, but I don’t acknowledge it. I can’t.

"So, you will... end her." Her voice wavers slightly, and she clears her throat. "When?"

Her sudden lack of enthusiasm on the subject is strange, considering how she salivated over the idea before. "Why do you care?"

She shifts in her seat, glancing at the flickering flame of the candle on the end of my desk. "I don't, of course. I was just wondering."

"You needn't worry." I meet her gaze. "I know you felt I was wavering in my regard before, but I can assure you, I hold no humanity in my heart for any Moreno. Particularly one who poisoned me. She will be dealt with accordingly."

Mercedes jerks her chin in agreement, but she doesn't appear to be placated by my assurances. It's unlike her to withhold her thoughts, and I don't know if I should be concerned about her welfare. Or perhaps Judge really did begin to tame her bratty ways.

She stands up and drifts toward the door, pausing to look over her shoulder.

"Santi?"

"Yes?"

"I..." Her voice fractures. "I just wanted you to know I love you. It’s so good to have you home."

Ivy startles awake when I slip my hand over her mouth to cover her scream. The room is pitch black, and the only sounds between us are her labored breaths as she bolts upright in the bed.

"Santiago?" She pants my name as if it’s a prayer for salvation.

"What did I say about you being naked?" I growl into her ear as I wrap my fingers around her throat.

"I am naked," she hisses. "You have all my clothes locked away. Do you expect me to sleep without any sheets?"

"I expect you to do whatever I ask," I answer, my breath fanning against her face.

I've had too much scotch and not enough food, and I don't exactly know what I'm doing here. One minute I was heading for my bedroom, and the next, I was stumbling into her room.