Chapter 17

• Roxanne’s POV
• The digital clock on my nightstand read 11:30 PM. The massive estate was still, cocooned in the silence of the deep countryside. I had spent the entire evening mapping out my move, reinforcing the steel resolve I needed to executive this operation. I had just stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, my skin still flushing from the heat. I stopped in front of the massive walk-in closet, bypassing the elegant nightgowns Maria had left for me. Instead, my gaze landed on the master bedroom door—the one that connected to Joaquin's personal chambers.
• I pushed the door open. His room was immense, minimalist, and smelled faintly of cedarwood and cold leather. I walked straight to his wardrobe and pulled out a crisp, white dress shirt. It was oversized, made of expensive Egyptian cotton. I slipped it on. The sleeves swallowed my hands, and the collar sat loose against my neck. But the length was perfect. It hit me just above the knee, creating the dangerous, tempting illusion I needed. I didn't wear anything else beneath it.