that meant.
2
Alicia
Alberto marched me to his truck, keeping a tight grip on my arm despite my jerking and yanking to get away. He didn’t stop until we landed at his passenger side door. I stared at it blankly, then back to him. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not getting in there. I’d rather die than go anywhere with you.”
“Suit yourself,” he grinned in his disarming way. “But I’m afraid death is far from the worst of what would await you.” He tipped his head towards the guards stalking the entrance of the marketplace. They had gathered to watch Alberto cart me off. “They’re waiting for me to toss you back to them. They know what I did in there was purely reactionary. I know it too, and I’m regretting it already. They’re just waiting for me to change my mind.”
I turned around to see the goons waiting there with snarled lips. They were like hyenas waiting to rip me to shreds. As much as I didn’t want to go with Alberto, I didn’t want to find out what they would do to me either. I had challenged them now by nearly escaping, and if they got their hands on me again, it’d likely make everything that happened until now seem like child’s play.
“It’s your choice, sweetheart. Get in or go back to them. It makes no difference to me.”
He didn’t hesitate before getting into the driver’s side and starting the engine up, and I knew he meant it. It was now or never. If I didn’t jump in right then, he would drive off and leave me here with these animals. Neither option helped me with what I came here for. I reluctantly got in and buckled up, thinking I’d figure something else out once we were away from this terrible place.
It was taking too long for his air conditioning to kick in, even though it was a very nice, expensive car as I would have expected. Men like him drove around in luxury while the people of this country were starving. It was despicable. Between that and the sweltering heat outside, my stomach began to churn. And to make matters worse, the prosthetic belly I was wearing under my shirt was starting to make me sweat and itch.
My father and I had been trying to crack down on the local black market for a while, but it had to be done slowly. The police, politicians, and judges had all been bought by the criminals who ran that place. That’s how it kept its secretive doors open. That was what fueled Alberto Milano’s hatred for my father in the first place. He couldn’t be bought.
We knew people were being sold into slavery and sex trafficking, and so far nothing could be done. But when I learned that there was a growing market for pregnant women, I thought surely exposing something like that would appeal to the hearts of even the most corrupt officials. They would have to put a stop to it, and maybe that would be just the beginning to bringing the whole thing down.
But you couldn’t just walk in there asking questions. In fact, someone like me could only get my foot in the door by being on the other side of things...by being one of the victims. Some women who ended up in the market were kidnapped and drugged. Some were sold off by their demented husbands or families. Others, however, went in by choice. They found themselves with no other options beyond starving on a street corner, so they’d take their chances with the market just to keep a roof over their heads and to have enough food to barely stay alive. It was better than nothing.
I planned on approaching the men at the market from this perspective. I strapped on a fake belly and went charging in, hoping to document every step of the process and name as many participants in the cruel practice as I could along the way. But of course, they didn’t take kindly to how many questions I asked. I had to demand fair and humane treatment, to prove they were denying it to others. It all put one giant target on my back, and I was quickly in over my head.
But I couldn’t blow my cover to Alberto. Appearing to be pregnant might be the only reason he has been so merciful with me this far. And if I ever managed to infiltrate the