Mixed blood

Chapter 28 : Passionate. Electric. Divine.

Inside the grand lecture hall, the atmosphere was electric. The jury members, a panel of esteemed academics, sat at the front, their expressions a mix of intrigue and anticipation.

Diego was there, sitting in the audience with a supportive grin. Suzy, who had accompanied Luana, sat beside her, offering quiet encouragement.

But the most important person in the room for William was Luana. She sat in the front row, her eyes shining with pride and unwavering support. From the moment he began his presentation, her gaze never left him.

William spoke with confidence and passion, presenting his research with precision and clarity.

The jury was captivated, their admiration evident in the way they leaned forward, taking notes and nodding in agreement.

When he concluded, the room erupted into applause, and the jury rose to their feet, one by one, to commend his groundbreaking work.

When they announced his grade, accompanied by an honorable mention for the exceptional quality of his thesis,

Luana's emotions overflowed. Tears welled in her eyes as she clapped, her smile radiant. Her gaze locked with William's, and in that moment, no words were needed. He saw everything in her eyes.

As soon as the applause died down, he was on her — crossing the space like he owned it.

He wrapped an arm tight around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, William. You did it." She whispered into his chest.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears at the corner of her eye. “My fierce wife, crying in front of everyone. How scandalous.”

She sniffed, trying to glare at him, but he just smirked — that wicked, boyish grin that made her knees weak every damn time.

“Stop it,” she whispered, cheeks flushing. “I’m not—”

“Oh, you are,” he teased, leaning closer until his breath warmed her ear. “You’re soft for me. Admit it.”

She swatted his shoulder, but he caught her wrist, pressing a kiss to her pulse point, lingering just long enough for her breath to catch.

"Thank you,” he murmured against her skin. His voice dropped, dark and velvet-smooth. “For being here. For feeling this with me. Now wipe those pretty tears, cariño.”

Or you’ll give me ideas to find another way to ruin your mascara tonight.

---

Later at the Romero's warehouse

Luana approached the chief, a burly man seated near a cluttered desk.

"The plate for John. Where is it?" she demanded.

The chief grunted and gestured toward a metal tray sitting on a nearby table. Without hesitation, Luana moved to inspect it.

Pulling a small, elegant bottle from her pocket, she carefully unscrewed the cap. She let five drops of the clear liquid drip onto the food, each one sinking in silently.

"Perfect," she turned to one of her men, her tone cool and authoritative. "Take this to John."

The man nodded, grabbed the tray, and hurried off.

Luana was in her office, her gaze fixed on the monitor. The grainy camera feed showed John in his cell, hungrily devouring the plate of food her man had delivered.

She crossed one leg over the other, a cold smirk curling her lips as she watched him clean the plate with satisfaction. Her eyes sharpened when the first sign appeared. A subtle twitch of discomfort in his expression.