AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Preacher nods in agreement. “I’ll handle it,” he says. “I’ll find him and bring him in.”
I shake my head. “No, we can’t risk that. Emiliano is dangerous, and he’s clearly kidnapped Valentina. We need to take him out.”
There’s a tense silence in the room as everyone considers the options. Finally, Arturo speaks up. “I’ll take care of him. He’s my son,” he says. “I’ll talk to Emiliano and make sure he understands the consequences of his actions.”
There’s a sense of unease in the room as everyone silently contemplates the plan. No one wants to think about what might happen if Emiliano refuses to back down.
After the Rojas men leave the clubhouse, Ace turns to Preacher. “Get with Nova and keep an eye on that old man,” he says quietly. “Let me know if he does anything stupid.”
Preacher nods, his expression serious. “I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Valentina
“You have to know that you won’t get away with this,” I say to one of the two guards. They’ve kept me locked up in this room around the clock. “My brother drugged me. Then he kidnapped me and put me on a plane back to Colombia without my consent or my father’s knowledge. You’re as good as dead.”
The man doesn’t budge, he doesn’t blink, but a tiny bob of his Adam’s apple tells me he’s heard me and understands. These guards are young—sicarios—that work for my brother.
I want to scream. I’m so angry, and I feel so fucking helpless against Emiliano. Waking up over a week ago to find myself back in Colombia was even more shocking than the fact that my brother had orchestrated it.
“I don’t know what Emiliano told you, but he’s not in charge. He will never be.” Especially not now. “So whatever he promised you, he can’t possibly give it to you.”
The guy does a good impersonation of a statue, staying quiet and avoiding my gaze.
“Fine,” I sneer, fed up with this bullshit. “Fuck you. Just remember when you're begging for your life, when you’re on your last breath, that I offered you a way to save yourself.”
That’s how my conversations have been for the past few days. One guard after another standing sentry inside the room, blank-faced and silent for hours on end.
When the shift changes at one, a new guard comes in with a tray of food. “Lonche,” he growls in Spanish and drops the plate down like he wants to be anywhere but here. “Disfruta.”
Disfruta, my ass.
Today, I’ll try kindness—or rather—manipulation. “Thank you for lunch,” I say sweetly in Spanish. “You know, you could just let me go. Go to the bathroom or take an important call, and I’ll leave and you get to live to see another day.”
The guard doesn’t acknowledge my words, which only fuels my rage. It makes me even more angry, but I know men like these guards. They respect strength—not fury. It’s viewed as a weakness.
I'm trapped in this luxurious room feeling like a caged animal. I chomp down on the chicken, silently challenging his authority.
His eyes follow my every move as he searches for a sign of compliance. I wait for him to let his guard down, and then I unleash my fury.
With a horrific scream, I fling the plate and the food across the room. I scan the room with wide eyes, taking in all the bullshit.
The full-length cheval mirror, the expensive art hanging on the walls, the Boca do Lobo furniture, all of it disgusts me. I race around the room like a maniac, destroying everything in my path.
I attack the designer clothes hanging on the freestanding wardrobe rack, ripping the fabric apart with each scream until nothing but tatters remain.
The guard opens the door to stop me, but I scream at him like a woman possessed, throwing him off. I continue my rampage, tearing the comforter off the bed to shred it, but it’s too thick, so I throw it down in frustration.
Thirty minutes later, every inch of the room is a disaster. I sit on the damask stool with stuffing poking out and cross my legs, angry and exhausted, with tears streaking down my cheeks.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I take in the destruction around me. The sound of my own breathing is ragged and uneven. It’s like a wild animal has taken over my body, and I can’t control it.
I know I’m risking everything by doing this, but I don’t care. This is my only way to show them I won’t be controlled anymore. I won’t be a pawn in their game. I'll fight back with everything I have, even if it means destroying everything in my path.
My brother will pay for what he’s done.
I crawl onto the bare bed and let exhaustion take over. But my mind is awake and focusing on one person. Dix. His face, his half-smile that never fails to make my heart flutter...I’m consumed with thoughts of him.
