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“Now, don't look so glum,” he coos, “We can finally start our lives together.”
I hold back the cringe that I want to escape at the sound of spending my life with this man. The horror that he doesn't plan to kill me but… keeps me. Like a pet. A fucking prisoner.
“You said you would release Spencer,” I find myself saying, despite the nausea rising at the newfound knowledge that Rodrigo is going to torture me forlife. God, he plans to fuckingkeepme.
He glances at my brother with a sneer, “Yes, well…I need to have your cooperation first.”
“I’ll do whatever you ask. No fight,” I reply, my voice coming out devoid of any emotion. I don’t lower my gaze from his ensuring he sees the total and complete surrender.
He nods and that sickening smile returns, “Hector!”
The door opens and a large frightening man enters, His face emotionless and the long jagged scar across his face only seems to add to his ominous presence. He doesn't so much as glance at my brother or me while he faces his boss.
Rodrigo approaches Spencer and I watch in horror as he pulls a blade from his pocket and shoves it into my brother’s side. Spencer lets out a pained groan and his head falls forward as hepasses out. The scream I let out is cut off when Rodrigo steps across the room and grips my throat.
“Take him to the hospital, drop him off at the door, and leave,” Rodrigo orders, and I watch my unconscious brother be hauled from the room. Hector throws him over his shoulder carelessly and leaves without a single word of acknowledgment. Just like that…my brother is gone. I can only pray that he lives…that Hector gets him to the hospital in time.
Tears fill my eyes and I try to gasp for breath but Rodrigo still has a bruising hold on my neck. He leans down, his face inches from mine as he studies me, “You’re mine now, little traitor. Be sure you remember that.”
He doesn't release my throat until black spots dance in my vision and darkness consumes me.
???
When I come to, I’m still tied to a chair and Rodrigo is sitting across from me. He’s occupying the chair that my brother way bound to with a relaxed posture that is fucking infuriating. He's watching me with a sadistic grin, the kind that chills the blood. My limbs are numb, the ropes biting into my skin a harsh contrast to the fog that clouds my mind. I can tell that they have loosened over time but they are still tight enough to have my fingers tingling with blood loss.
"Ah, you're awake," he says, his voice smooth and unnervingly calm. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever join me again, little traitor.”
“Why do you call me that?” I ask, clearly delirious because who gives a fuck. Honestly, why am I making conversation with my psychopathic abuser?
He raises a brow in confusion, “Because you were mine. You were supposed to be coming to me for our alliance and then you decided to go visit some other man. You betrayed our agreement.”
My brows draw together as I try to understand his ramblings. What the fuck? Literally I think he may be crazy…well obviously he is a psychopath but now I have to wonder if maybe he is losing some of his marbles.
"Yours? Come to you?" My voice is barely more than a whisper, laced with incredulity and a growing sense of horror.
He scoffs and flicks invisible lint from his suit, “Yes, mine. Your father signed the marriage contract and you were meant to be kept intact for me. Luckily, I was still your first. But when I found out about your plans to go to Texas and see another man, I realized your father was betraying me…thus making you a traitor.”
Holy fuck.
He's insane.
As Rodrigo stands there, his posture the very embodiment of entitlement, the reality of my situation crystallizes around me. This man, this monster, believes he owns me, that he has some preordained right to my life, my body, because of a deal struck without my consent. The idea that my life, my autonomy, could be bartered away is fucking disgusting.
I let out a burst of crazed laughter. My father signed a marriage contract. He used me to form some fucked up alliance with the cartel, and then when I was going to visit Damian…oh fucking Jesus. This is insane. He’s actually crazy and my dad is a fucking piece of shit. This is all his fault. It’s funny…in a reallysad humorless kind of way to think that my shitty excuse for a father tried to sell me off and ended up getting himself killed.
I wonder if my mom knew what kind of man she was married to. I wonder if that is the real reason she left us. Not because she was bored of me or didn’t love me. Maybe she finally had a chance to escape the monster that was my father and she took it.
“Don't laugh at me,” Rodrigo seethes, his hand flying out and whipping my face to the side. Rodrigo's reaction to my laughter, the sharp sting of his hand against my cheek, does nothing to quell the hysteria bubbling up within me. It's a ludicrous situation, so absurdly twisted that laughter seems the only response, even as pain blooms across my face.
“He-you…” The laughter that escapes me is tinged with madness, a defense mechanism against the overwhelming horror of it all. “He never told me. I had no fucking idea you absolute psychopath.”
He stares at me with rage in his eyes before he shuts down his emotions and puts on a blank emotionless mask. Rodrigo's transformation from seething rage to an eerily calm facade chills me to the bone. He really is insane.
“It doesn't matter. You were mine and you went and fell in love with another man,” he states, his voice devoid of warmth, a cold declaration of ownership that feels like a shackle around my heart. “You thought you could just freely give away what I fucking paid for.”
"You can’t purchase another human being. That’s absolutely insane. You don’t own any fucking part of me…you don’t fucking know me!" I scream, rage and defiance flooding me. This man doesn’townme. He doesn’t have arightto my body or my soul.
He raises a brow at me and his smile is telling, “Well my dear, I have kept a close eye on you since our little tryst nine years ago. I like to think I know you rather well.”
