Page 50

“About Madden?”
My eyes squeeze shut, and I hold my breath momentarily. “Apá, please. Let it go.”
A shaking hand reaches for my wine glass, and I tuck it back in my lap and stand up from the table. I abandon the meal without explanation and escape to my room for a long bath before bed.
I skip breakfast in the morning, wanting to avoid another confrontation. The housekeeper delivers a tray, no doubt sent by my father. I don’t tell him of my plans to go out, and I wait in my room until the last possible moment before walking down to the gate. I prefer meeting Dario here to avoid having him in my home. The monster arrives in a silver Maybach, and I slip wordlessly into the lush seat, wishing I could be anywhere else.
Shortly into the trip, I realize my presence wasn’t needed. Dario selects the restaurant we go to and orders for me. After lunch, he chooses the boutiques we visit and all my clothes.
I planned to slip out while pretending to try on some of the outfits, but at the first shop, he followed me into the changing area. After that, I didn’t even bother. My smile remained plastered on my face whenever someone came near, and I dutifully laughed whenever Dario said something clever.
By the time he pulls into my driveway, my cheeks are sore and cramping from holding the fake expression. I ask to be let out at the gate, but Dario insists on dropping me at the front door. To make matters worse, he also carries my bags inside.
As soon as Dario clears the threshold, I take the bags from him and try to rush him through the door again before my father notices us.
Unfortunately, I’m all out of luck. Apá’s office door creaks open, and Dario reaches for me, pulling me close for an indecent kiss. Dario lifts his mouth from mine to murmur, “You better act like you enjoy it, or Daddy will get suspicious,” He then captures my lips again.
I kiss him back like he demands but die a little inside. Tears well in my eyes, and Dario releases me with a triumphant grin. Then, nodding to my father, he finally walks out the door.
Apá’s disappointed gaze settles heavily on my back. I don’t turn around. I couldn’t handle seeing his disgust or letting him see mine. Trying to hold the tears at bay, I pick up the bags and walk stiffly toward the stairs.
Once inside my room, I throw the bags onto the floor and escape to my balcony. I can hold the tears back no longer and drop to my knees before the concrete balustrade. There’s no way I can whore myself to Dario or his father. I would rather die.
I owe it to myself to try once more to break away. If I die trying, so be it. I can’t consider Apá or Austin in my planning, either. I can think about them if I’m successful.
I can’t try anything here, obviously. Dario’s men watch the property too closely for me to slip off the grounds. My only hope of escape is to do so while out with my father. Dario’s thugs will still follow us when we leave but at a distance. Otherwise, Apá would demand an explanation and likely dismiss the men outright. That confrontation would lead to a deadly showdown. So how will you do this?
Step one is to get me out of the house. For that, I’ll get Apá to take me to dinner. The when and where are crucial details. Everything that happens after is secondary. With my priorities set, it’s time to plan. I need a place that’s well-traveled with multiple exits. Definitely something top-tier, so the guards won’t be able to follow. A restaurant in a hotel is a plausible choice.
Having at least the beginnings of a plan motivates me to get off my knees. I walk from my room to visit the library on the main floor, where I use the computer to pick the perfect place.
Several locations are dismissed for being too far out and not busy enough with foot traffic. I need a place where I can blend into the crowd in seconds. Eventually, I find the perfect spot. I make the call, and a minute later, I have reservations in the most exclusive restaurant in Condado, twenty minutes from the airport.
For once, I’m happy about the prestige awarded to my father. Because I invoked the name of Cirilo Borrero, I was able to get a reservation for Thursday night at seven instead of the expected three-month wait. Now, to ensure I can get a flight off the island that late. At this point, I don’t care where it’s going.
With the plan coming together, I run out and find my father sitting by the pool. He’s still in his suit, but the jacket is draped across the back of a lounge chair, his tie is loose, and his sleeves are rolled up.
He’s not out here to relax. His dark eyes appear tired, and his hair has been run through too many times. I did this. I betrayed him by letting Dario claim me when Apá tried so hard to shield me from him.
Seeing him this way makes me want to fall to my knees and confess everything. Instead, shuffled steps bring me to his side. “We missed my birthday,” I tell him.
Apá looks up at me, appearing older than his fifty-four years. “Take me to dinner?” I ask with a small smile.
He reaches out for me, and I gladly close the distance between us and slip my hand into his. “Of course, Mi Tesoro. Anywhere you like.”
“I made reservations for Thursday at 1919.”
My father smiles in return, but the gesture is strained. “That sounds perfect.”
I bend to kiss him on the cheek and rush back upstairs. Now, all I have to do is survive the next five days.
Austin
“Marisol, wait!”
She doesn’t, and my phone chimes when the call disconnects. I slam the device to the desktop surface, seconds away from smashing the thing to pieces. “Dammit!” I leap from my chair so fast it crashes into the wall behind me with a loud bang. Piper lifts her head at my tantrum but doesn’t otherwise move.
She’s just as messed up as I am. Leaving my phone where it is, I storm from my office to the training room, eyes landing on a pair of MMA gloves on the equipment shelf. I pull them on, not bothering to secure the wrists.