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“That’s enough,” he says, bending down to remove the rope from my ankles.
Once I’m free, Jian walks over to Vicente and whispers something in his ear. I watch as Vicente’s posture stiffens.
With a glance at his phone, Jian moves to quietly speak to Tommy and Rey before those two leave the room and go upstairs.
Vicente continues to stare at Fred without saying anything. He only holds the gun to his head, keeping him in place.
Rey comes back briefly, long enough to set down a dining room chair before disappearing again.
“Princesa.” Vicente addresses me without turning in my direction, his voice slightly softer than it was when speaking to Fred. “Do you want to be here for this?”
I don’t have to ask what he means. I showed up for the aftermath of what I’m sure was a similar situation. Jian told him what Fred did to me. I have no doubt that’s what he whispered. Vicente has remained in control of his emotions, but I have a feeling that’s about to end.
The fact that he’s asking me means something. My answer could mean a whole lot more. What I feel for Vicente is strong. I don’t know that I’m in love with him, but the emotions running through me are unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Not only in this moment where he’s come to save my life, but throughout most of our time together.
Regardless of the fact that he lied and manipulated me for his own reasons, I can’t imagine not having him in my life. His world is different from my own, but it’s time for me to decide if I can handle it—if I can handle who he is. I suppose this is the test.
“Yes,” I reply, staring daggers at Fred.
As soon as the words leave my lips, Vicente and Jian move together. Before I know it, Fred’s thrown into the chair and Jian secures him to it with the same rope used on me. Fred screams and cusses at them, he begs and apologizes, he even looks to me with pleading eyes like I’ll help him.
Vicente hands Jian his gun before slowly unbuttoning his shirt and removing it completely. This time, he looks at me as he hands it over.
I step forward and take it, our eyes locked on each other.
Jian gives Vicente his knife before pulling me back.
“You put your hands on her,” Vicente states.
Fred immediately shakes his head. “No, no.”
“It wasn’t a question. I know you did. Your fucking handprint is still on her cheek,” he spits, pointing the knife in his direction.
Vicente steps close to him and without another word he brings his hand down in an arc, a slash cutting through Fred’s cheek. His skin splits open and blood pours down his face.
“Fuck!” Fred yells. He continues to cuss and fight against his restraints.
I look up at Jian at my side who looks unaffected. My heart races in my chest as I tighten my grip on the shirt in my hands.
Another quick movement from Vicente has Fred’s other cheek splitting open. I gasp as Fred yells out in pain.
“I heard you tried touching her, too.”
Fred’s eyes widen with panic. He frantically shakes his head from side to side.
Vicente looks at me. “Mariella, did he touch you?”
My gaze bounces between the two of them. Fred’s begging me silently with his eyes, his lips moving with barely a whisper coming from between them. He knows the truth, but he wants me to lie. He knows what could happen to him, and the more I think about it, I know what Vicente could do.
He cut his cheeks for each slap he gave me. If I say he touched me, he could very well take his hand or his dick.
Tears mix with the blood that drips from his face, falling to his clothes. He’s miserable.
I lock eyes with Vicente and nod. “He said he could take whatever he wants from me,” I reply. “Said he was powerful. He called me a whore and wanted me to spread my legs for him.”
Fred sobs. “No, no, no.”
Vicente’s face hardens. “Is that right?” He looks at Fred who has his head down. Vicente yanks his head up by his hair. “Is that fucking right?” he shouts, filling the room with his voice.
