Hazel's compliment carried a hint of playful mockery. Still tipsy, she leaned in close, smirking as if to challenge him. Her fingers brushed against his chest in a teasing touch, and Francisco let out a low chuckle.
"Handsome," she drawled, eyes gleaming, "you really don't know how to talk to a beautiful lady. You shouldn't reject someone like me."
Francisco narrowed his eyes. Slowly, he reached up and loosened her messy hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.
"Let's dance, Hazel," he murmured.
Her eyes lit up with a surprised smile just before he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down from the bed. She stumbled, unsteady on her feet, and stepped on his toes. He didn't flinch. Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist, steadying her as she clung to his shoulder.
Dizzy but smiling, Hazel leaned into him. Her head rested lightly against his chest. Francisco's fingers traced the curve of her bare back, drawing a soft sigh from her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut.
He dipped his head closer, eyes fixed on her lips... but then, with a sudden spin, he twirled her and caught her back into his arms. Laughing, Hazel wrapped her hands around his collar and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
She mumbled against his skin.
"Your hand... it's so cold."
Francisco didn't answer.
Hazel's playful words hung in the air.
"Are you human… or a vampire?"
The low thrum of music in the background wrapped around them like a seductive spell, adding to the charged tension between them.
Francisco's patience snapped. Without warning, he grabbed her hair and pulled her close. Hazel gasped, the sound soft and breathless, melting into the music that pulsed through the dimly lit room.
"You really annoy me, Hazel," he said.
Her half-lidded eyes barely focused on him. The room spun slightly, the music twisting her senses into something dreamlike and dangerous.
Francisco's breath brushed against her neck. Hazel tensed, a chill crawling down her spine.
A sharp sting bit into her collarbone. Her back arched, a low groan escaping her lips as pleasure and pain blurred into one.
Just before everything faded to black, one name slipped from her mouth in a whisper.
"Rafael…"
"Rafael…"
Hazel's voice, muffled by sleep and intoxication, echoed again.
Francisco froze. His sharp blue eyes locked onto her face, but his lips remained against her skin.
"Rafael," she murmured once more.
Francisco's jaw tightened. He stared down at her sleeping face, his emotions a storm behind his cold expression. His grip on her tightened as he leaned in, lips hovering inches from hers.
"Why do you keep saying his name?"
He laid her gently on the bed. Still fuming, he leaned over and pressed his thumb against her lips, smearing the gloss, as if trying to erase Rafael's name from them.
"Do you even know him… or is this just another impulsive moment?" he muttered.
He rubbed her lips for a second, his touch rough, his eyes dark with jealousy.
"I hate it when you say that bastard's name, Hazel," he growled.
Standing beside the bed, Francisco dragged a hand through his hair, frustration burning in his eyes. He yanked his tie loose, breathing heavily.
A knock broke the silence.
He clapped once. The door slid open.
A maid stepped in and bowed.
"Change her dress," he ordered sharply.
"Yes, Master."
"You have two minutes," he added, already turning down the hallway. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number... Liam. One of his most trusted men. The mission he had given him couldn't wait any longer.
When Liam answered, Francisco spoke clearly, "I'm sending you an email. Check it. Find out if she's connected to that man."
"Yes, Master!"
Francisco ended the call and quickly sent the email, attaching photos of Hazel and Rafael.
He checked his watch. Two minutes were nearly up.
Heading back to the room, he opened the door and found the maid adjusting the blanket over Hazel, who now lay sleeping peacefully.
The maid turned to him and bowed slightly. "It's done, Master."
He nodded once. "Hmm."
She left the room without another word. Francisco locked the door behind her.
He removed his wristwatch and placed it on the nightstand, his gaze returning to Hazel.
She looked calm... too calm for the storm she'd stirred inside him.
His fingers brushed gently against her skin. The softness under his touch didn't match the chaos in his chest. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Francisco watched her, his expression unreadable.
"I want to cage you," he whispered, voice low.
"But… I like seeing the bird fly." He paused. "Until the bird betrays me."
Hazel, in her sleep, remained still... oblivious, delicate, untamed.
"You're a free bird," he murmured, jaw clenched.
"I hope you don't give me a reason to clip your wings."