Chapter 16

• Joaquin’s POV
• When I stepped into the dining room, I stopped dead in my tracks. The heavy, suffocating tension that usually hung over this room had vanished, replaced by the rich aroma of garlic rice, toasted pandesal, and freshly brewed coffee. But it wasn't the food that drew my eye. It was Roxanne. She was sitting at the table, dressed in a bright, butter-yellow sundress that looked entirely too innocent for a girl I had dragged out of an underground strip club. Her dark hair fell in soft, flawless waves over her bare shoulders. The moment she heard my footsteps, she didn't stiffen. She didn't glare at me with the raw, volatile hatred that had practically defined her for the past forty-eight hours.
• Instead, she tilted her head back and smiled. It was a bright, dazzling, breathtaking smile that completely reached her eyes.