"Poor Harper Sanchez." Noah's tone dripped with mock sympathy. "Comes home after eighteen years, doesn't even get a week of peace before she's out there hustling to keep the family afloat. Selling herself like a dog for scraps. She should've stayed lost."
Hudson's expression darkened. "Don't be dramatic. She's doing odd jobs. Part-time work. Hardly 'selling herself.'"
Noah's smile sharpened.
"Oh, of course. My mistake."
He leaned back.
"I was thinking of someone else. There was this girl—her family went under, and I found her so... pitiful. Fed her a little something to take the edge off. We spent a few very affectionate days together."
His eyes glittered.
"And when she finally woke up? No tears. No screaming. She just asked how much."
He was talking about me.
After Hudson's "accident," Noah had been the first to strike.
I'd just finished paying Hudson's hospital fees and hiring a caregiver when Noah's men grabbed me off the street.
They threw me in a basement. Stripped me bare.
Noah drugged me. Forced himself on me. Filmed every moment.
"Your brother thinks he's untouchable, doesn't he?" He'd whispered it against my ear while I lay pinned beneath him. "Let's see how untouchable he feels watching his baby sister scream under me."
I bit through my own tongue to keep from making a sound. I wouldn't give him ammunition to use against Hudson.
When silence didn't break me, he found other methods.
By the time he was done, there wasn't an inch of skin below my neck that wasn't bruised, burned, or bleeding.
Now, in the restaurant, my brother's face had gone cold.
"She only wanted money?" Hudson's lip curled. "How is that different from whoring herself out? Disgusting."
He picked up his wine glass.
"Women like that are a dime a dozen. God knows what diseases she's carrying." His gaze slid to Noah with thinly veiled contempt. "But I suppose you've never been picky about what you put in your mouth."
"Just a reminder, Mr. Delgado. You're young, but carrying on like this... be careful. You might catch something nasty."
Noah's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You're right. I really don't take care of myself, do I?"
His gaze drifted past the decorative ficus and landed squarely on me.
My father sensed the tension. He knew Noah and my mother were like oil and water, so he quickly stepped in.