AUTHOR’S POV

It was barely 6:30 a.m. when Tessa stirred from her sleep, she felt dry in between. The early morning sun was quite mild as it filtered through the white curtains from the balcony, casting a soft gold beam across Don Pedro’s bedroom. She turned slowly, careful not to wake him. He was still asleep, splattered around his side of the bed like a piece of used handkerchief, in split seconds, his face turned slightly to the side, he looked calm, and innocent, his breathing steady.

For a moment Tessa thought about how innocent he looked while he slept, yet the amount of wickedness residing inside him was one...