The clashes of my punches against the punching bag echo through the vacant gym. One jab, two jabs, three jabs. Every other swing causes the punching bag to fly away, but Lorenzo does a great job of keeping it still. A word of advice from Lorenzo — strategize my jab on my opponents and make them count.

Whether I like to admit it or not, I'm at a significant disadvantage for being a woman in a man's world. Who knows if I really have it in me to beat them? I won't know until the very minute, fighting for survival. It doesn't sound impossible. I've been fighting for survival for years. It's my time to shine, to thrive, to live.

My knuckles burn beneath my gloves, forming blisters as we speak. I've been at it for an hour straight to up my endurance. Sweat and mascara trickle into my eyes, causing my left eye to close, irritated by the product, and ruining my rhythm.

"I knew I shouldn't have put on mascara this morning," I groan, getting whacked in the face by a white cloth towel.

Lorenzo's lips curve into an amused grin. "We both know you wore it to try to seduce me into fucking you instead of training you."

Black mascara stains the cloth and probably my face. "In your dreams. I've stopped that four days before I got into the training."

He hums, stalking towards me, lazily wrapping his arms around my waist, but I stop him from getting any closer by jutting my palm out, pushing his chest back. My mouth waters at the sight of the definition of his abs, my thumb pressed against the contour of it.

I shake my head. "You're supposed to be putting me through a gruesome BootCamp."

Two dimples appear beneath the angle of his mouth, a slightly crooked curve to his lips. "You're right, but..." A gasp breaks through when he grabs my hips, lifting them for me to wrap my legs around his waist. "I've another activity for you to practice your endurance."

I bite my lip. "Very funny, but I'm serious!" He plops himself onto a bench, keeping me on his lap as he pushes my hair away from my face. "Today's my last day to make sure I'm prepared. I've got to win, Lorenzo-- I need to."

He snuggles his head in the crook of my neck, twirling my hair around his finger. "But what about me?" His lips jut out in a pout as he peers up at me. "I wanted to have some fun tonight. Like stuffing that cute little mouth with my cock."

Heat floods to my face. "You're annoying," I scoff, prying my body from his grasp and returning to the punching bag until a hand on my wrist prevents me.

"Okay, okay," Lorenzo slightly chuckles. "On a more heavy, depressing note, we don't know how tomorrow is going to turn out. Obviously, if I have to bet on anyone to beat all odds, it's you." His hand finds my chin, lifting it up to glance into his electric blue irises. "I would never doubt you, but why spend your possible last day alive training?"

"Because I need to do everything in my power to win."

With a groan, he brushes his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. "Okay, so what if you exhaust yourself to the point of no return? Isabela, you deserve a break. You've made this place your home for the entire week. Believe it or not, you have grown a lot this week, Isabela. Enjoy what could be your last day."

His words sink into my thoughts, weighing gravely on my consciousness. I don't know which way is wrong or right. Do I stay here all night until my knuckles split apart? Or have fun? The simple answer would be to let myself go, but I know internally I will regret it tomorrow. My thoughts are just a jumbled mess.

"I-I don't know," I mumble.

He lets out a heavy sigh. "What are you so afraid of?"

"Failing?" I shrug, my lips tilting low into a frown. "What if, because I let myself go tonight, I die down there? I don't want to give myself any reason to lose."

Lorenzo strokes his fingers through my hair, thrusting it away from my face. "You need to relax your brain, Isabela. Stress will eat you alive."

My mind has been going the extra mile this past last week. Maybe it would be nice to shut off my brain for a while-- live life like a normal nineteen-year-old. While my brief experience obtaining my GED isn't anything to rave about, it's one of the only times I felt like a teenager. And even if I've been forced to grow up and become an adult, I'm still a teenager.

A young, spontaneous teenager.

My eyebrows knit in uncertainty. "And if I agree to leave the gym... What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous smirk curves onto Lorenzo's lips. "What don't I have in mind?" His arctic-blue irises glow with excitement as he drapes his arm across my shoulders, nudging me into him. "We can start by showering together."

I elbow him in the ribcage. "Over my dead body."

He kisses the top of my head. "Let's see how long you last until you're begging for me to make you come again."

"Actually..." I drawl out, clenching Lorenzo's white muscle tee collar in my fist and yanking him closer to whisper into his ear. "I don't recall ever begging you. If anything, you were on your knees, wanting me."

Before I can take another step, Lorenzo seizes my face in both hands and kisses me like he's trying to win me over with them. His hands linger all over my body, halting at my ass and propelling me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist.

I don't know the nature of our relationship anymore, but we both know nothing will come out of this. Like a teenager, I'm going to kiss and fool around with any attractive person I can find. I'm done with relationships--Julian made sure of that. Everyone is different, and I understand that, but I won't ever be able to put romantic trust in another person.

I've had lost enough of myself.

Now, all I want to do is have fun.

No label, no feelings, just lust.

Before we can go any further, Lorenzo throws me over his shoulder, giving my ass a harsh slap. "Let's go play in the shower. Then, I'll share with you what I have planned."

Shower time was extremely intriguing-- to say the least. It was honestly a chore to rip Lorenzo off of me long enough to change into an outfit. Time had got away from us during the shower, and it was already past twelve, but the night was still young. We got enough time to do whatever Lorenzo had planned.

A glance in the mirror reveals the purplish love bites on my collarbones and the smudge of mascara under both my eyes-- Goddammit, Lorenzo! First, I apply two coats of foundation to mask the prominent marks on my shoulders. After a couple of halfhearted swipes at my face with a damp cloth, I cover my blemishes with foundation, bronzer, eye-shadow, and lip gloss. I twist my hair in the curler rod, producing soft summer-like curls.

Grabbing my clutch from the vanity, I exit my bedroom to find Lorenzo scrolling through his phone in the living room. It must be nice to be a guy and not have to worry about the extra things, like makeup.

My mouth slacks open at his outfit. "You got to be kidding me."

Lorenzo tips his chin down, peering over the sunglasses on his nose bridge. "How did you know I was channeling my inner Justin Timberlake?"

Either we were made to be best friends, or he peeked through my cracked door and watched me change. His thick muscles are suppressed under the light-blue denim shirt and denim jacket he's sporting, along with a pair of tight jeans and a sky-blue cowboy hat. How did he know I was planning on rocking a denim outfit tonight?

The funny thing is Lorenzo makes a perfect Justin Timberlake.

"You watched me change, didn't you?"

Lorenzo gestures a cross over his heart. "I swear this wasn't intentional, but you gotta admit-- we look like a hot-ass married couple."

He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, kissing me so deeply that I taste the first beer he's drunk to start his daily bender. His hands push my denim skirt up to my waist, seizing a handful of my ass cheeks and causing a gasp to slip past my throat. His hands are big and warm. Lorenzo uses this opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth, devouring each other's taste until I push him away.

After scanning the area and sighing in relief at no sign of another body in the room, I readjust my denim skirt and open my clutch to grab my pink lip gloss. "Seriously, stop kissing me. You're ruining my lip-gloss."

His smirk deepens as his thumb swipes below my bottom lip, eyeing my mouth with hunger. "Don't give me any more ideas, Bella-boo. You still owe me a blowjob."

I laugh. "I still don't remember ever promising that."

Lorenzo slides his hand to my back, standing close to me as he snaps a photo of us with his cell phone. "We look too hot not to post. This is going on my Instagram account. I've very thirsty followers."

"Let me guess," I tease, tapping my chin and squinting my eyes. "You have five followers."

"Close." He winks, rotating his phone around to face me. "Five million. What can I say? People are thirsty for quirky males with abs. You should see how much money I rack in from my onlyfans."

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What's onlyfans?"

Lorenzo looks down at me apathetically, his face as shocked as the guy in Edvard Munch's painting 'the scream'. "Who are you? Fucking Cinderella? How do you not know what onlyfans is?" He moves his phone screen in front of my face, and my eyes immediately dart to the opposite side of the room at the sight of his hardened cock. "An app to charge people for things like dick pics and cumshot videos."

"Lorenzo!" I scream. "Give me a warning next time."

A hot, molten heat rises up the nape of my neck, all the way to the tips of my ears. "Don't pretend like you aren't getting wetter by the second."

I scoff. "I'm seriously not."

He arches an eyebrow. "Let me check."

I swat his hand away before it can get anyway near me. "Hey, buddy, keep your hands to yourself. Why post me on your Instagram if you have girls paying thousands to see you? Wouldn't they get butthurt to see you with another girl?"

He shrugs. "They have to face reality one day and realize I'm going to fuck around with people I know."

Fascinating take on parasocial relationships, if I should say so myself. Lorenzo snaps another couple shots of himself as I examine my makeup look. He drops his cell phone on the table, scrummaging through his pocket until he hauls out a ziplock containing colorful pills-- purple, blue, orange, and yellow with various designs.

"This is one of the many various ways I'm going to free you from your stresses." His hands press into the ridges of my shoulders, massaging them. "You're going to explore the world from another dimension, Isabela. You're going to love every second of it."

My face scrunches up with uncertainty. "I don't know..."

My father would spend his late nights with his buddies, getting fucked up on any drug he could get his hands on, which was literally all of them. Molly, ecstasy, heroin, cocaine-- name it, and he's probably tried it. What if addiction runs in my family? I don't want to lose myself before my big day.

Having fun doesn't require drugs...

Lorenzo juts out his bottom lip in an obnoxious pout. "Pretty please with a juicy cherry on top?"

I shake my head. "I think I rather just stick with the alcohol."

Disappointment clings to his features as his lips curve into a frown. "Alright. I guess more for myself. Let's head to Diablo's Paraiso; I got us a private floor and brought ten escorts to join us."

"Is this your way of making your orgy dream a reality?"

His lips tip into a half-smirk as he extends his arm for me to interlock ours. "Maybe... Now, let's go. Jota, is the limo pulled around?"

Jota strolls into the living room with confusion marring his stern features. "Que?"

(What?)

My eyes flicker across the slope of his coppery oval-shaped face, Roman nose, and big plump lips. Crinkle lines mar his eyes as he's much older than my last bodyguard-- at least in his late thirties.

"¿Puedes llevarnos al club? Siéntate libre de unirte a nosotros," I translate since Jota's English is in the very early stages of development.

(Can you drive us to the club? Feel free to join us.)

He nods his head. "Sí, claro. Alguien tiene que asegurarse de que estás a salvo."

(Of course. Someone has to make sure you're safe.)

Jota pulls Lorenzo's car of choice-- the limo around the entrance of the house, and Lorenzo jumps in first like he's plunging into a five-hundred feet stream, cracking open a beer-- poor guy. He's been deprived for days. Cozying up to the window, I stare out the car, admiring the frantic, glowing nightlife culture in the streets.

"Here." Lorenzo pokes my shoulder, offering me a glass of alcohol and ice. "We need to get a head-start."

The vodka burns a blazing trail down my throat, sizzling as it sinks to the bottom of my stomach. My face crinkles at the vigor of the vodka, nearly blow-up from the power. Maybe it would've been wise to eat something other than a protein shake today. I guess I'm getting fucked-up tonight.

A queue of individuals ends two blocks from the entrance. Luckily, we've special access to the secret underground part of Diablo's Paraiso, which has no visual line in sight. It's just more exclusive than the first floor. The only way in is by invitation only or in special occasions like me-- an ex-worker.

Bright blue and red lights beam into the nightclub, creating a perfect scene to take pictures. Dollar bills decorate the ground as we walk past the main stage with a beautiful blonde woman taking people's breath away. I would've stayed there myself if it weren't for Lorenzo tugging my arm.

I inhale the remainder of my vodka before throwing the cup in the bin and seizing Jota's hand so he doesn't lose us. We travel up a flight of stairs to an excluded area with a sign labeled 'Isabela's last night alive' in Sharpie.

My mouth slacks open. "That's so embarrassing! Who's idea was that?"

Lorenzo fails to hide his smile. "It's so everyone knows to make your last night special."

Lorenzo flags down a server, and orders over a dozen drinks, stealing the two shots on the tray, dropping a two-hundred dollar tip as payment for it. A bouncer unhooks the red, flimsy rope, letting us into the area. There are black cushion couches in the form of a circle to relax in, and to observe an escort on the small platform with a pole in the middle. El Alfa and Bad Bunny blast through the club's speakers.

We collapse on the sofa as Jota remains standing, guarding me by staying beside my side of the couch. Lorenzo downs a pill with his shot and hands me the other drink to finish. My stomach tingles. Gosh, I think there's a chance I might black out tonight.

I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

Lorenzo sucks on the lime before draping his hand over my shoulder and interlocking our hands. "Isabela." His warm breath fans my ear. "I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out."

An uneasy laugh tumbles out of my throat. "Um... okay? You better not be confessing your undying feelings for me because I don't feel like breaking any hearts tonight."

He places our hands over his heart. "Then accept my love," he teases, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, I need you to promise."

My heart beat picks up another notch. "Um... okay? I promise."

He nudges the strands of hair behind my ear, his warm breath fanning my skin. "I spiked your drink with ecstasy."

Just like that, peace of mind evaporates like water on a frozen surface and substituted with hysteria. What does he mean he spiked my drink? Why is my heart pumping so fast? Am I going to die?

My stomach sinks to the fucking floor. "What?"

Lorenzo's hands slide down my spine, dragging me into a bear hug. "You promised you wouldn't freak out. Isabela, please relax your mind, or the high will shift into paranoia."

Thoughts are spiraling like a merry-go-round.

"How can I not panic when you went behind my back to spike my drink?" I ask, harshly pulling away from his hold and dropping my head into my palms. "Does the word trust mean nothing to you? How am I supposed to ever trust you again?"

His hand strokes my backside. "Please, please. Pretty, please, Isabela, just go with the flow. We can talk about this after."

My head bangs against the cushioned headrest, staring at the horizontal teal-blue lights. Fine. I'll just save this argument for another night if I survive to live past tomorrow. Lorenzo sports a half-grin, passing me another glass of alcohol like he already knows he won the fight. What a dumbass, I swear!

"You're not forgiven, by the way."

He extends his arms on the back of the cushion, clutching his head in his palms. "I can live with you hating me if you have the best night of your life tonight."

The bouncer unhooks the velvet rope, permitting a pretty redhead and a stunning hot-pink girl. The bright white bra and thong create a stark contrast against the girl's dark complexion and fiery red curls. The gorgeous hot-pink woman served like we're million-dollar clients she's trying to win over in her pearly gray corset, her boobs stealing our attention.

They giggle like schoolgirls, settling on either side of Lorenzo's thighs, fluffing up his face and kissing his neck. "I might need to disappear for half an hour."

My eyebrows skyrocket to my hairline. "So you drug me, then plan to leave me to fend for myself? What a good friend you are."

Lorenzo bops the pink hair girl's nose, and she's enjoying his antics, sucking on his pointer finger. "One second, baby. My friend is just a bit jealous." He rises from the sofa, pushing the girls to the side.

"I'm not jealous," I groan under my breath. "I just don't want to experience this on my own."

He chuckles, extending his hand out for me. "Do you ever get tired of being a whiny little brat?"

My head tilts to the side with a smile on my face. "Nope." I look at his hand and slap it away before saying, "I don't need your help."

He lets out a small chuckle and places his hand on my lower back, leading the way over to the mini stage in our room. A deep house beat plays in the background, and a chill in the air because of the air-conditioner. For claiming he's an incredible dancer, he's really awkward on the dance floor.

But so am I.

I feel like a fish out of water.

The only other thing I ever experienced that could relate to this was the house party, and that didn't end well-- at least with my so-called friends. Everything else about the night was what a girl would dream about.

"What are you doing, Isabela?" Lorenzo asks, interlacing our hands together. "Put that sexy ass on me and twerk."

I burst into laughter. "It's sweet that you think I could actually twerk."

Lorenzo lifts my hand to the sky, spinning me around for my backside to press against his frame. Step by step, we sway to the deep, vibrating bass of the music. After a few minutes, we start to find our own rhythm. His finger wanders my body, grazing against the exposed skin of my arm, leaving destruction of fire in the wake.

It feels fucking incredible.

Like tingles sizzling beneath my skin.

Everything moves at a snail's pace.

The lights.

The music.

My dancing.

His touch dances across the belt of my denim skirt, and I can't help but lick my lips, totally into the feeling of him on my skin. Goosebumps invade the entire surface of my skin. My head pushes up against his solid chest, admiring the flashing of the lights.

Red-blue, red, blue-- black.

"Looks like someone is rolling," Lorenzo whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my ear in the best way. "How do you feel, love?"

He leans in close, his soft lips brushing against my jawline. "Mmm... like I can do anything."

"Believe me, you can," he murmurs, placing a featherlight kiss on my jaw.

A whimper escapes as he moves away from where he once was. "Kiss me."

Understanding my demand, his hand brushes across my jaw, tilting my face to collide with his, molding our lips together in a hunger, vicious, sloppy manner. A deep growl builds in his chest when I grip the back of his hair, forcing more friction for our mouths. His free hand slides down to my ass and cups a cheek, squeezing firmly. My mouth falls open on a moan, granting him access for his tongue to duel with mine.

The night went on, hours of us just kissing in the middle of our mini dancefloor. Then, in the blink of an eye, we're dancing like maniacs-- laughing as I fail miserably on the pole, twirling around like a spinner. The colors morph into one as I whirl around on the metal pole. Miss Redhead, who actually goes by Kenzie, demonstrates a few tricks, but I flop to the floor like a fish.

One blink-- we're huddled in a circle, downing two shots and snorting cocaine with our one-hundred-dollar bills.

Another blink-- I'm holding Kenzie's hair as she vomits over the railing onto the mass of people on the dancefloor.

Blink-- I'm dancing, flailing my arms in the air like I just don't care.

Blink.

My eyes are rolling as the kissing trail on my neck is intoxicating. Almost mindlessly, I rock my hips, angling them so my clit rubs against his pelvis, right where I need it to be.

Tension mars Jota's features as he stops the sweet suction on my neck. "¿Qué hay de tu esposo?"

(What about your husband?)

My head kicks back, laughing as I glance at my fake husband, devouring the mouth of Miss Pinkie and Kenzie on her knees, bobbing her head up and down. Honestly, I don't know how I ended up on Jota's lap, but he's pretty sexy and has kissable lips, so that's a win in my books.

All I know is I need to fuck someone.

My decision.

This could be my last time-- need to make it worth my wild.

"No le importará. No nos importa compartir," I reply before catching his lips in a lively kiss.

(He won't mind. We don't mind sharing.)

"Tienes los mejores labios del el mundo," Jota mumbles against my lips, causing a smile to erupt.

(You have the best lips in the world.)

I giggle. "Wait until you get a taste of my other lips." Confusion washes over Jota's features as I play with his thin hair. "Vamos al baño."

(Let's go to the bathroom.)

He grabs ahold of my hips and lifts me off him, rotating my body in bridal style. Glancing back, I seize Lorenzo's special container filled with any drug you can imagine. Jota carries us to the bathroom, kicking the three stalls open to secure the area for us. Once we check every hiding spot, Jota clicks the door lock and drops me on the countertop.

His features magnify, and his chin dips as he glares at me with a look of hunger. Excitement builds in my chest-- I hope I didn't lose my enjoyment of sex. His mouth brushes against mine, and I dart my hands across his neck, pushing our faces to collide. He traps my bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard. It's somewhat painful, but I'm supposed to explore new things.

Jota breaks contact, swapping to my exposed collarbones, leaving a trail of kisses down my breast. A laugh burst from my throat before I could even think to stop it. The kisses tickle my skin, causing me to push him back.

I don't know what happened, but I'm not into it anymore.

My sex drive simmer like a flaming candle being snuffed out.

"Jota, let's do some coke," I say, shaking the zip-lock bag filled with white powder in his face. "Despues podemos continuar."

(Then we can continue.)

He stills for a fraction of a second, and shrugs, gesturing for the rolled-up dollar bill, and sniffs one of the coke lines I made on the counter. "Voy a usar el baño."

(I'm going to use the bathroom.)

I wave him off. "Have fun!"

Dropping from the counter, my heels hit the floor with a thud as I admire the three lines of white powder on the granite surface. Wow, what a masterpiece, and all I had to do was form three lines. Pinching one side of my nose, I lower my face to inhale the coke with the other side. It tickles my nose. Then I repeat the same process with the other side, scrunching my nose as the tingling sensation diminishes.

"Holy Moly," I say, clenching and unclenching my nose.

I wonder if it will hit the same now that it's my third time tonight.

I twist the faucet open, lathering my hands with foamy soap and rinsing them before moving to my face. Water splashes my skin, waking me further. My alertness is on full steam. It's also a refreshing relief from the scorching heat of the club. My hands reach for paper towels, gently dabbing my face with them.

I sigh and feel the burn on my ankles and the bottom of my feet from the five-inch white thigh-high boots. How did I survive this long with these motherfuckers? I rip them off, wiggling my toes on the bare floor-- freedom for my little piggies.

My eyes gape at my reflection in the mirror, taking in my disheveled hair, leaking mascara, and flushed cheeks. Fudge sticks. Something feels wrong. Goosebumps surface onto my skin. Bending forward, I touch the skin below my eyes, observing how my sclera turns black.

I tilt my face to the side.

What the fuck.

A current of terror floods into my bloodstream. My stomach churns in anxiety, and my breathing picks up. It's just the drugs. I'm imagining things.

The part of my chest where my heart resides aches in agony with every breath. Inch by inch, I twist my head to face the mirror again, dreading to meet my eyes through the reflection. Frustration creates a lump in my throat that I can barely breathe through as I'm met with the scary black eyes instead of my brown ones.

Light flickers like in horror movies when a demon desires for their presence to be known. The bathroom fractures into four sections, pulling away as I'm left standing in the middle. Blood drips down the walls like a tidal wave, coursing to my destination. My already accelerated heartbeat climbs higher. Panic is settling in.

So, I do what I do best-- run.

My feet race through the sea of people until I collide with a rough surface.

"Woah, Isabela, who's got you running around like a crackhead," Lorenzo laughs, holding my arms that hit his chest. "Where's Jota?" His eyes squint as a bigger grin grows on his face. "Oh my god, you dirty little slut! You sucked his dick, didn't you? I'm hurt. You sucked him before me. This is a new level of disrespect."

My breath evens out, and most of my panic dissipates as the club remains the same as I left it. "You're an idiot. I didn't suck his dick. We were playing a friendly game of tag."

Lorenzo playfully rolls his eyes. "What are you, twelve?" He waves his little insult away with his hands. "I digress. I think there's someone here to see you, Isabela."

My brows knit together. "Stop talking out of your ass."

"No, I'm being serious." He clasps a hold of my shoulder, tilts my body a full one-eighty degrees, and points at the bouncer talking to another man.

My jaw hits the floor. It can't be. Julian? My heart constricts with warmth and despair, the stark contrast causing a tightness in my breath. This can't be real. It has to be the fucking drugs. I feel like I've stepped back in time-- Julian in his classic Armani suit, his wooly black hair, those annoyingly sweet green eyes, his perfect pillowy lips. The only stark difference is the five o'clock shadow on his chin.

Yet, it makes him a million times fucking hotter.

I almost forgot how enormous he was.

He blocks out the light spilling into our VIP area.

A rush of awareness blasts heat through me.

Think with the head on your shoulders, Isabela.

My stomach drops. My skin hums with nerves when he shifts his gaze onto me. Fuck. He's found me. What do I do? My face flames tenfold.

"Isabela, ¿por qué te fuiste del baño?" Jota asks, his eyebrows pull in taut.

(Isabela, why did you run out of the bathroom?)

An idea strikes.

Before Julian can reach me, I grab Jota by the neck and mute him by pressing our lips together in a kiss. Jota groans, loving every second of this attention as he wraps his arms around my waist. My eyes stay open, glancing ahead.

Green eyes glittering with determination pierce into mine. His lips go pale, and his jaw tightens, sharpening the lines of his face, and I feel fucking fantastic.

He clears his throat. "Hey, Isabela. It's been a while."

Hehehehehhehe I'm berry, berry, berry sorry for leaving you guys on this gut-wrenching cliffhanger but OUR KING IS BACK 🙈😂🤭!!!

How do you think Julian found her? How do you think Isabela is going to react? Happy or angry? How do you want her to react? I would loveeee to hear all your thoughts !

Also who's POV do you want to read of their first interaction since a year ago? Julian or Isabela? And why?

Are you ready to find out where Julian has been?

Thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter and I can't wait to upload again with the next one 💜💜❤️💜❤️💜❤️💜

Thank you soooo much for all the support and I love ya!!!