Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I hesitate, and my eyes dart to where I saw the other man, but there’s no one there now.
Santiago stops between two pillars where there’s an entrance to the villa and watches me.
I turn my head and look at all the small houses in the village, and it’s only then that I realize I’m not chained because there are so many people to keep an eye on me.
I’ll never escape this place.
Knowing I have no other choice, I hold myself tighter as I walk to where Santiago is waiting and follow him into the villa. I keep glancing around, taking in the extravagant décor. There are statues of women and plants in the wide hallway, and when I look over my shoulder, I see a living room with leather couches.
As we head farther down the hallway, we pass a number of shut doors before heading up a beautiful, cream marble staircase.
Even though Santiago’s home is beautiful and vastly different from the house Nolan kept me in, I don’t let down my guard for a single second.
When we reach the landing at the top, my eyes lock on a beautiful wooden trunk. It looks nothing like the one at Nolan’s house, and I stop to stare at it. Where Nolan’s was made of dark wood, this one is caramel with patterns carved into it.
“Do you like it?” Santiago asks.
I tear my gaze away from the trunk and look down the the gleaming tiles, noticing the puddle of water that’s formed around my feet.
When I don’t answer his question, he just continues to walk, and I follow him, my shoes squeaking loudly.
I’m taken into a bedroom, and I lose my ability to breathe when I see the big bed with white silk covers, a white dressing table with a high-back chair, plants on either side of a window seat, and French doors that open out onto a balcony.
The luxury reminds me of home, and a lump forms in my throat. I haven’t thought about Dad in a really long time, and I try not to think of Grace, because it hurts too much.
Even if Santiago allowed me to contact her, I never memorized her new phone number and wouldn’t know how to get in touch with her.
“Don’t you like the room?” Santiago asks.
I swallow hard before whispering, “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours.”
My eyes fly to his face, and seeing his wet hair and how much more handsome it makes him look, I quickly glance away again.
It doesn’t matter what Santiago looks like. Nolan came across as normal. Enough for my father to hire him as a guard.
Not all vile men look like monsters on the outside.
“Are you okay with this bedroom?” Santiago asks.
I just nod.
“There are clothes for you in the walk-in closet, and you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom. Shower and put on dry clothes.”
I nod again, then listen as he walks out of the room. When I don’t hear the door shut, I glance over my shoulder.
He’s not locking me inside.
I take off the shoes before I tiptoe to the door, and peeking into the hallway, I see Santiago go into another room.
I glance down the other side of the hallway and don’t see anyone.
He left me alone?
I quickly hurry in the direction of the stairs, but then I glance over the banister, and seeing a man dressed in a black combat uniform, I come to a sudden halt. He’s carrying a machine gun, like the ones our guards used to have back home.
My heartbeat speeds up, and before the man can notice me, I run back to the bedroom and quickly shut the door.
I take a few steps backward, then spin around and rush to the French doors. I yank them open, and stepping out onto the balcony, I glance over the massive backyard that doesn’t seem to end. My fear grows when I count more than a dozen guards.
Oh God. This place is heavily guarded.
There’s a heavy feeling in my gut because I won’t ever be able to escape.
Chapter 12
SANTIAGO
While waiting for the water to warm up in the shower, I take my phone out of my pocket and check the device for water damage. When I see it’s still working, I quickly grab the hand towel by the sink and dry it.
After setting the phone down on the counter, I strip out of my wet clothes and step beneath the warm spray.
My thoughts turn to the incident on the veranda. The second Ciara saw Pedro, she ran, but she didn’t try to flee from the women.
I keep alternating between the person who held her captive being a woman or man. My men still haven’t found any leads, so we’re fucked on that front.
It’s been two weeks, and I still only know her first name. Maybe I’ll be able to get some information out of her during lunch.