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The guest suite is stunning. Immaculately renovated, with no cost spared to make visitors comfortable. No one would argue that point. But I’m not a guest. I’m a prisoner.
Antonio can dress it up any way he chooses. He can call me his fiancée, wife, mistress, whore, whatever suits him, but I’m being held against my wishes. That makes me a prisoner.
I glance around the room, chiding myself for admiring the bookshelf nestled in the corner behind a tufted chair and ottoman.
Not all prisons are austere, with iron bars and concrete walls. Some cages are gilded, surrounded by saltwater pools and flowering shrubbery. Lavish surroundings can trick the mind into believing it’s free. But even great opulence can’t fool the soul. My confinement will be luxurious, but I will be confined.
“Is there something special you would like me to prepare for your lunch?” Victor asks, pulling me out of the malaise.
“I’m not fussy. I eat anything. Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”
“Cooking for you is an honor. Is there anything you need before we let you rest?”
I shake my head, but there is one thing. “What time will Antonio be home?”
Victor’s brow furrows. “I’m not expectingSenhorHuntsman today.”
What?I feel my lungs deflate.How can I negotiate with him if he’s not here?
“Victor, would it be possible for me to speak with him?”
“You’d like to speak withSenhorHuntsman?”
His smile is stiff, and I can tell I’ve put him in a bad position.
“I’m sorry, but I do need to talk to him, please.”
The polite, soft-spoken man hesitates for a long moment.He’s preparing to tell me it’s not possible to reach Antonio. I’m sure it’s a lie.
His Adam’s apple bobs before he utters a word. “I can reach Cristiano,” he says finally, pulling a phone out of his back pocket. “He’ll know ifSenhorHuntsman is available.”
While Victor speaks to Cristiano, I think about how I might be able to steal his phone for an hour to call Isabel. I need to keep my eyes open for an opportunity. I glance at Paula. It might be easier to take her phone.Maybe she’ll lend it to me.
“Cristiano would like to speak with you,” he says kindly.
My hand shakes—part fear and part fury—as I take the phone. From the corner of my eye, I see Victor shoo Paula out and move to the edge of the room to give me privacy.
I don’t bother with niceties. “I want to speak to your boss.”
“I have no boss.” The voice is deep and smooth, with an icy glaze that makes me shiver. “I’m a busy man. I expect you to save your neediness for my bed.” He pauses. “But since you just arrived, I’ll make a concession. What can I do for you, Daniela?”
You can get me some rope so I can strangle you.
“I hoped we would revisit thearrangementonce I was here, but Victor says he’s not expecting you today.”
“Victor isn’t at liberty to discuss my comings and goings.”
Fuck you.
“We need to talk. I want to do it as soon as possible. I’m a prisoner here. I won’t put up with it forever.”
“You’ll put up with what I say you’ll put up with—all of it. And if I were in your shoes, I would remember who I was speaking with, and I’d think twice before I opened my mouth. You’re in no position to make demands on me or my time.”
My head is about to explode.
“You would do well to remember who you’re speaking with too.” I don’t raise my voice, but my tone is firm. “I’m a human being. Not a cat you keep in the barn to chase mice. My family is as important as yours in this valley. I won’t allow you to treat me like an animal.”
I stop for a breath and brace myself for his response. But there’s nothing.
