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“No!” She grabs my hand. “Even if you manage to shoot him, his men will kill you on the spot.”
“He told me he plans on fucking me in front of everyone after the wedding,” I say and squeeze her hand. “If he tries, I’ll need that gun, Nana. Because I’m not letting that son of a bitch rape me on the dining table in front of his guests.”
I’ve been thinking about my options and came up with nothing else. If I try to run, there are three possible outcomes. One, I fail, and Diego kills me right away. Two, I fail, Diegocatches me, and drags me back. And three, I manage to run away, and he kills Sergei. The first two are basically the same, because if he drags me back, I’m as good as dead. He’ll just torture me for defying him before he kills me. The third is out of the question because I am absolutely sure he will kill Sergei to punish me for making him a laughingstock of the compound by running away from him twice.
I take my nana’s face between my palms and look into her warm eyes. “Will you get that gun for me?”
She presses her lips together and nods.
Chapter 21
I sit on a chair in the middle of the room as two girls fuss with my hair and look down at the white silk dress I’m wearing. Knowing it was Diego who chose it, it’s not that bad. I expected a small piece of material that would barely cover my ass and breasts, but the dress is rather modest, with a high neckline and a skirt that flares from the waist. It’s sleeveless, so I had to cover the cut on my upper arm with foundation. I strapped the gun Nana got me around my right thigh with the elastic band that I extracted from the waistline of my sweatpants. It’s not the best solution, but it works. Thank God the skirt is wide, so the gun is well concealed under the heavy silk material. If Diego had chosen something short or tight, it would have been impossible to hide it from view.
The door behind me opens and Maria walks inside wearing a short red dress with sequins. There’s a fake smile plastered all over her face, and her eyes are watching me with malice.
“You will be late. Diego won’t be pleased,” she says.
I still can’t understand how she can let that pig fuck her every night. Just looking at him makes me want to puke.
“From what I hear, he’s in a good mood,” I comment.
The drinking and singing started hours ago. I can hear the laughter and yelling from here, even though my room is on the opposite side of the house.
“You should add more makeup over the bruises, Angelina. The bluish hue is still noticeable.”
“You, too,” I say and watch her turn toward the mirror, inspecting her face. So, he hits her, as well. Looks like I’m not that special after all. “Leave. I’m coming down in a minute.”
After Maria leaves, I send away the makeup girls. When I’m finally alone, I sit down on the bed and close my eyes, letting my mind drift to that last evening with Sergei. I can’t believe he let me rub the rose oil all over him. He still smelled faintly floral when he went to the meeting the following morning. My lips widen in a smile at the recollection, but a single tear slides down my cheek. God, I miss him so much. I wish we had more time together.
Another round of rowdy laughter reaches me, bringing me back to reality. Reaching up with my hand, I brush away the stray tear, then place my hand on my thigh to feel the gun hidden under the silky material. Time to go. I get up and leave the room.
* * *
“Palomita!” Diego roars from his spot at the head of the table that has been set up the garden. “Come here.”
I squeeze my hands into fists and walk across the wide patch of grass until I reach the cobbled patio where everyone has gathered. There are around forty people, mostly men. Some of them I know because they were my father’s associates and business partners who came to our house quite often. Based on the way they avoid looking at me, they probably know I’m not here voluntarily, but none of them will stand up for me. Business always comes first—morals be damned. The rest watch me pass, spewing dirty jokes, laughing like pigs, and congratulating Diego on his choice.
As I near the head of the table, I notice the priest sitting on Diego’s left, and, for a fleeting second, hope rises in me. I know him. My father regularly donated money for homelesskids his church takes care of. However, when he looks up at me, there’s a look of terror in his eyes, as well as a warning as he cuts a sideways glance at Diego. Hope fades as realization sets in. Father Pedro has been threatened, too. I wonder if my disgusting soon-to-be husband will force the priest to stay and watch when he tries to rape me in front of everyone.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Diego asks as he grabs my wrist and pulls me down onto the chair.
I feel his meaty hand reach for my leg, just above my knee, and go utterly still. If he moves his palm just a few inches up my thigh, he’ll feel the gun I have strapped there.
“Not as plump as I like them, but she’ll do.” Diego laughs, and I exhale when he removes his hand to reach for a wineglass.
He’s already wasted, as is everyone else around the table. The priest will probably have to marry us while we’re seated, because I doubt Diego will be able to stand. I look over at the house and see Nana Guadalupe standing there with her right hand hidden inside her knitted cardigan. She’s staring at me, but then her eyes shift to Diego. Why is she wearing that thing? It’s scorching hot, and I’m already melting in my dress. She looks back at me, then down at the watch on her left wrist, and smiles before heading in our direction. I watch her through narrowed eyes as she walks around the table and stands behind my chair.
“Stay down,” she whispers into my ear, grabs the back of my chair, and pushes it sideways with me still on it. As I topple over, a whooshing sound pierces the air.
I land on my shoulder and yelp, but my cry gets lost in the epic boom that reverberates somewhere near the guard gate. There are a few moments of utter silence, and then three more explosions—one after the other. People start yelling, jumping from their chairs, and reaching for their weapons. I roll until I am under the table and look up to see Nana Guadalupecrouching next to me, clutching a gun in her hand. She’s still smiling.
“What’s going on?” I yell as I pull my skirt up and take out my weapon, but I don’t think she hears me because the explosions continue all around us, each less than a few seconds apart. It sounds like the end of the damn world. I peek around the tablecloth to check out what’s going on just in time to see the auxiliary building where we store vehicles collapse. The guests and security guards run across the lawn with their weapons raised, all looking confused, and I notice one of the men fall to the ground. For a moment, I think he must have tripped, but then my eyes find a big red dot in the center of his forehead.
In the brief interlude between explosions, I hear another whooshing sound, and see another man drop.
“It’s a sniper!” someone shouts, and people start running for cover.
Two security guards turn toward the house only to end up on the ground soon after. The guests run in a wild stampede to their parked vehicles, and one by one, the cars race toward the open gate that's now hanging off its supports, destroyed in one of the explosions. Most of the people remaining behind are Diego’s soldiers and security.
