Drama Queen
LILIANA’S POV
I woke to the soft sound of drawers opening and closing.
For a moment, I thought it was part of a dream. The room was still cloaked in shadows, faint light barely bleeding through the curtains, the air warm from the night we had spent tangled together. My body was heavy with sleep, my muscles deliciously sore, my lips still tingling from his kisses.
Then I heard the distinct clink of a belt buckle and the low rustle of leather.
My eyes snapped open.
Ronny.
He was standing by the dresser, already dressed, sliding on his black leather jacket like the world outside our little bubble couldn’t wait another second to have him. His hair was damp, brushed back from his forehead, and his jaw looked freshly shaved. He looked so annoyingly perfect for someone who was sneaking out before dawn.
“Morning, baby girl.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue casually, like it wasn’t about to kill me.
God.
I sat up immediately, my hair falling into my face, my heart doing a stupid flip at the sound of it. He didn’t use that one often. When he did, it was always softer, less of the boss, more of the man who let me crawl into his chest at night and whispered things against my skin he’d never say out loud.
“Morning,” I murmured, rubbing at my eyes before narrowing them suspiciously. “Where are you going this early?”
His eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing, but softened when they landed on my pout. He tugged at the lapels of his jacket, adjusting them with the ease of someone who did this every day.
“I’ve got some business to take care of in Switzerland.”
Switzerland.
My stomach sank.
I knew exactly what this was. Jess had told me about it—how every year, without fail, Ronny disappeared around his birthday, vanishing into thin air so his friends couldn’t find him, couldn’t force him to celebrate something he hated. She’d laughed when she told me, but there was something sad under it too. Something lonely.
And tomorrow… tomorrow was his birthday.
He was running. Again.
Not this year.
I wasn’t about to let him vanish like some moody phantom while we all stayed behind, wondering where he went. Not when I had a plan.
I forced my face into neutrality, humming under my breath like his words didn’t immediately give him away.
“Switzerland, huh?” I asked, stretching lazily, pretending not to care. “Sounds cold.”
His lips twitched. “I’ll survive.”
I slid out of bed, the sheets pooling around my waist before I stood and padded toward him in his oversized shirt I was wearing. My bare feet barely made a sound against the floor, but he tracked my every step anyway, those stormy eyes never missing a thing.
When I reached him, I reached up and adjusted the neck of his jacket, smoothing the collar into place like I belonged there, fussing over him. “You’re going to leave me?”
The pout in my voice was impossible to hide.
His lips curved slightly, like he knew exactly what I was doing, but he didn’t call me out. “It’s just for two days.”
“Two days?” I widened my eyes dramatically, clutching at his sleeve as though he’d just told me he was leaving for a year. “That’s a whole lot of hours, Ronny.”
He smirked, low and dangerous, bending closer until his breath brushed against my cheek. “You don’t know how it drives me crazy to be away from you.”
I swallowed, heat curling in my stomach despite the act I was trying to pull. “Then don’t go.”
“I have to.”
I groaned, dragging the sound out like a child denied candy. My shoulders slumped, my bottom lip sticking out pathetically. He chuckled under his breath, brushing his fingers briefly over my chin before turning toward the door.
Like hell was I letting him just walk out.
I trailed after him, my steps exaggeratedly heavy, dragging my feet like some sulking toddler as we moved downstairs. He ignored me, though I saw the corner of his mouth twitch as if he was fighting back another smile.
At the bottom of the stairs, two bulky men stood waiting. They were all dark clothes, hard stares, and crossed arms—perfect guard-dog material. Ronny’s voice shifted, low and serious, as he spoke to them, giving instructions I didn’t bother to listen to. My focus was entirely on him—on the way his face hardened into something unyielding, all traces of softness wiped away.
It made my chest ache.
And it made my plan even more necessary.
He turned back to me, his expression softening the second his eyes landed on me. “I have to go.”
I shook my head furiously, my hair flying around my face. “No. You don’t.”
He sighed, exasperated but fond, and leaned down, kissing me. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t rushed. It was deep, passionate, consuming, like he needed to remind me of something before he stepped away. My knees went weak, my chest burning as I clung to his jacket, wanting to trap him there, make him stay.
But then he pulled back.
And turned toward the door.
I watched him walk through it, watched him head for the car parked in the driveway. My heart pounded as he slid inside, the engine roaring to life.
And then—
It was showtime.
I pressed a hand dramatically to my chest, staggering backward like some tragic heroine in a bad play. My other hand flew to my forehead, and I let out a loud gasp.
“Oh!”
My knees buckled, and I went down hard, collapsing onto the floor in the most over-the-top faint imaginable.
Maria’s horrified cry immediately followed. “Miss Liliana!”
God, I felt terrible for her. The panic in her voice was so raw, so real, I almost broke character right there.
But I had to sell it.
I let my body go limp, my head falling back, eyes fluttering shut as I sprawled across the polished floor. I forced my breathing to go shallow, chest rising and falling just enough to look believable but not obvious.
Maria’s footsteps pounded closer, her hands shaking my shoulders. “Miss Liliana! Please! Wake up!”
Guilt twisted in my gut. She sounded terrified.
But before I could cave, the front door slammed open so hard it rattled the walls.
“Liliana!”
Ronny’s voice.
I would’ve smiled if I wasn’t pretending to be unconscious.
In seconds, he was at my side, shoving Maria gently out of the way. “What happened?” His voice was sharp, urgent, panicked in a way I’d never heard before.
“I—I don’t know!” Maria stammered. “She just suddenly collapsed!”
“Baby girl—”
The nickname tore from his throat, rough and frantic. His hands slid under me, lifting me effortlessly against his chest. My body molded to his instinctively, and even though I was still faking it, my heart wasn’t.
He carried me upstairs, his strides long and unrelenting, his voice softening as he pressed his lips to my temple. “Stay with me. Come on, open your eyes. You’re okay. You’re fine.”
He laid me gently on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress as he sat beside me, fingers combing through my hair, brushing damp strands away from my face. His touch was so careful, so reverent, like I might shatter under his hands.
“Liliana…” His voice was a whisper now, raw and full of fear. “Don’t do this to me.”
Oh God.
I felt so bad. So bad.
But also—so victorious.
Because just like that, he was stuck.
Tied to my side.
Exactly where I wanted him.
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