Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,46

snapped as I watched her dolly around the empty campsite.

She was getting used to my moodiness, so much that she rolled it right off her shoulders most of the time now. I didn’t like how comfortable she had become around me. Everyone else was afraid of me, and she seemed to think I was just some harmless dog for her to play with. It made me feel tamed and powerless...two things I never cared to be.

The clouds parted some as we traveled into her town. People stood in the yards in front of their tiny, run-down homes and marveled at the sight of me riding by. They looked fearful but humble. Of course, people with no money hated men like me. Alicia was no different. They claimed it was because I did bad or immoral things to gain my fortune, but I thought it was really out of envy. They hated that I had the drive to do what it took to get what I wanted, while they let themselves wallow in pity over what they didn’t have.

The sight of the poorly cared for town just added to the sourness in the pit of my stomach, as did the light in Alicia’s eyes. My estate and big mansion did nothing for her, but she looked at this sad excuse for a community like it was a damn palace.

“I cook dinner there two or three times a week,” she beamed as she pointed to a community center on the corner. “Tons of people in town come and sit down around a big table together and laugh and eat. Sometimes people donate wine or liquor. You would actually enjoy it...if you could ever bring yourself to show your face at such a thing.”

“I’m sure half the people have starved since you’ve been gone,” I scoffed sarcastically.

“Not as many people as you’ve managed to starve when you force them away from their homes and jobs so you can stick another piece of land under your belt,” she snapped back.

My bitterness didn’t stop her from pointing out all the places that were near and dear to her heart as we passed. The longer it went on, the more my grumpy mood faded into something different. I watched her glow with pride as she looked around her hometown. I couldn’t imagine why her father forced them to live in a place like this when surely his detective salary could have afforded them something better. My protectiveness came back, and I hated him for not giving Alicia a better life.

But her eyes were filled with nothing but love as she went on and on about all the people she knew and the places they went. A fit of sad jealousy sparked inside of me. I wished that she looked at me with that kind of innocent love in her eyes. Or that I loved anything in the way she seemed to love her home.

I turned my thoughts to all I needed to do when I returned home, or I tried to at least. There was an emptiness to it all now that I had never felt before. Life had always been a game to me. My parents never had high expectations for what I might accomplish because we were already wealthy. I took it as a challenge and decided I would just add to our riches in ways no one ever thought possible. But the prize for it all was just endlessly acquiring more and more...And for the first time, that prize seemed boring to me.

I ignored the way Alicia watched me as we rode along. She always did that. Stared at me for a long time as she gathered her thoughts. Every time I knew she was deciding something about me and that she’d soon have something new to bother me with.

“What will you do after this?” she asked, sounding curious and accusing all at once.

“What I’ve always done. What else would you expect?”

“I didn’t know if I had managed to inspire any change of heart in you...after all of our talks about what’s right and wrong...and what’s good for the people of Argentina.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, laughing to myself. But my laughter faded into an awkward discomfort. Something in me had changed it seemed, but I didn’t know how or why. And I would never admit to it regardless.

“What about all of those unclaimed goods?” she pressed. “Sure, you give a few jobs to people who need them, but that doesn’t make it