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"You and your daughter will stay here under close watch until the debt is paid, until you are deemed worthy of forgiveness."
My mother and I look at each other, my eyes filled with confusion and hers with fear.
He abruptly straightens in his seat and I almost flinch.
"Where are my manners? Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself."
He walks slowly to the space between both my mother and I, reaching down with his tan hands out in offering, as if to shake our bound ones.
"The name is Dante, many call me El Oscuro. If I were you, I'd just stick withMaster.Welcome home ladies."
He winks at me, and my world goes dark once more.
3
Esmeralda
I feelconsciousness slowly step forth and with it comes nausea. My mouth is dry, and I move my lips only to realize that there is no longer a gag there. My tongue moves around and I am so thirsty that my throat croaks out a noise of despair.
Where am I now?
My eyes open and I can see that I am no longer in the board room. No, instead I am in a chair, my hands still bound, in front of a long dining table set with crystal, linens and candles.
If I didn’t have whiplash before, I definitely have it now.
The room is empty, so I decide to steal more glances of my new environment.
I am in a dining room. Though room actually isn't the right word for it, since it's the size of basically the entire floor plan of my home. The walls are black and decorated with vintage portraits of people that are both terrifying and beautiful. Some are paintings, some are still lifes from more recent times.
There's a fireplace to my right that is lit, and on the top of its dark stone are more candles. I notice a dark, plush rug and two expensive looking chairs before it.
My ears are buzzing, but I hear a soft instrumental melody echoing throughout the room. I steal one more glance at the dining table before me. It is long enough to sit two full-sized families and it is all dark leather and wood. Masculine, but elegant all at once.
I fidget in my chair, careful not to make much sound in case a new and unwanted visitor comes in. My hands are still bound, but now they are bound around the chair that I've been placed in. As soon as I move my arms, I catch a whiff of my body odor and want to scream with frustration. Of course I decided not to shower before visiting my mother. It was supposed to be a quick trip back home for a signature, it’s not like I had anticipated being bankrupt and kidnapped. Then again, with my mother, anything is possible.
I still when I hear the telltale clicks of leather shoes, bracing myself for the monster of this castle. OrThe Dark OneI guess. As soon as I heard his name leave his lips, my whole body seized with fear and took me under. I’ve heard of this man before the news report from my mom's television. He’s a notorious cartel leader that is probably worth more than Bill Gates, just rich with dirty money, drugs and murderous weapons. Apparently he owns clubs too, specifically clubs that employ my junkie mother.
Where is she by the way? And what time was it? Is it even Sunday anymore? More importantly, where the fuck am I?
The clicks are coming closer, and I hush my worried mind and look down at my lap. The jeans I’m wearing have holes in the knees and I can see the dirt smearing my olive skin.
A chair moves, it sounds far away. I steal a glance upward and see Dante sitting arrogantly in the seat across from me. In reality, it’s twenty chairs away, but it feels like he’s breathing down my neck. My skin is tingling and I bite my lip, dying to focus on anything but the way I feel under the scrutiny of this man.
He makes a sound that is similar to that of a grunt, but I don’t look any further. My eyes are cast back to my lap and if I block him out enough, maybe I can imagine myself on a beach, or in a fucking shower.
He shifts again and it seems that there is no room for any imagination in this prison. Within seconds, his velvet voice echoes the room.
“I am glad to see that you’ve joined me for dinner Esmeralda. The chef is preparing quite the meal for us tonight.”
It’s probably slop and I’m sure that if he had his way, he’d spoon feed it to me.
“It’s not like I had a choice…”
I gasp slightly, surprised that I echoed my thoughts out loud. He almost seems surprised too, in a rude, menacingly kind of way.
“Ah, so she does speak. I was wondering how long it’d take to get anything more than a twitch out of you.” His voice is velvet now, not chocolate. It’s velvet and it’s lethal.
I’m going to die anyway, might as well speak up before silence takes over forever.
