Sold To Mr. Milano - Daniella Wright Page 0,50

an evil one either. I wanted to believe he was decent but had learned to do bad things to further himself in life. But before all of this happened, I never would have believed such a thing was true.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Father grumbled. “Well, at least tell me what you found out. If you were at his estate this entire time, I know you must have seen and heard things. No daughter of mine would miss an opportunity to spy on the Milanos.”

“I learned things...Yes,” I answered slowly. “But nothing incredibly useful.”

“You’re lying,” he fumed. “Just a little time with that bastard and you’re already lying to cover things up for him!?”

“Will you please calm down!? Look, I don’t like Alberto any more than you do. But I was also captured by the Mendozas, and he came to rescue me. He could have just left me there, and I’d still be buried in their basement now or who knows what else. But no, he came and got me and then brought me home to you. Whatever I saw or learned while I was at his estate...none of it was bad enough to overshadow what he did for me by saving my life and bringing me home.”

My father stared off into the fire as he considered it all carefully. “Okay,” he sighed finally. “I can’t promise I will ignore his shady business forever, but I suppose we do owe him at least a little gratitude for what he did.”

I hugged my father tight and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

“But I still don’t trust him, and I never will. He’s manipulative, and I’m certain that’s the only reason you’re defending him now. Once you’ve had some time away from him, you will see him differently.”

I hoped my father was right, as sick as it was. I didn’t want to believe that I could be so easily swayed by Alberto, but there was no denying my longing to be with him again. And each time I thought of his bad ways, the way I had been raised to do, I felt a softness that was never there before. Something in me that said he wasn’t as bad as we always thought or that he at least stood a chance at redemption.

It was a relief to think maybe in a few days or weeks that I wouldn’t yearn for him at all. The fog would clear, and I would see him for the monster he was. I could go back to hating him right along with my father, just as things had always been.

We sat and talked for a long time, but I didn’t like having so many secrets from him. I had always told my father most everything, and now it felt like I had lived a whole other life he could never know about. It was a relief when he suggested we gather at the community center and cook a big dinner. No one had starved like Alberto had teased, but everyone had missed me.

We called up all of our friends and acquaintances, and they were eager to gather and celebrate my safe return home. Papa refused to tell them it was Alberto who had delivered me back safely. He didn’t want a single redeeming quality seeping into Milano’s reputation. He simply said it was all over now and there was no use talking about it.

Rather than me cooking for them, the women in our town insisted that I relax and let them do all the work. It felt good to be surrounded by the people of our community again. There was laughter, and hugs, delicious home-cooked food, and wine. I really did think it was something Alberto would like, but then again...I didn’t know if he had ever experienced anything like it. This was friends and family. It was warm and comforting. He didn’t seem to make room for anything like that in his life.

By the time dinner was winding down and we were starting to clean up and make our way home, I wondered if Alberto really was at the brothel at that very moment. I surged with anger and jealousy to imagine another woman putting her hands on him, as ridiculous as that was. He didn’t belong to me, and he never would. I didn’t even want him to belong to me, did I? I just kept reminding myself about what my father had said. After a little while, I would see everything