DEMETRIA
“¿Así te pones con todos los hombres, mi princesa?”
(So this is how he acts with every man, my princess?)
Papá stared between Marion and me, amusement flickering in his eyes despite the tension. He folded his arms over his chest as he spoke, his lips twitching.
I shot him a warning glare, already feeling heat climb my neck. Before I could reply, Marion spoke, smooth, steady, and in Spanish.
“Perdón, señor. No fue mi intención faltarle el respeto.”
(Forgive me, sir. I didn’t intend any disrespect.)
My head snapped toward him. “You speak Spanish?” I blurted, eyes narrowed.
Marion turned to me with that maddening smirk. “I understand more than you think, Wildfire.”
Papá laughed under his breath. “Bien. Porque vas a necesitarlo con ella.”
(Good. Because you’ll need it with h
