the door, one of them tied a blindfold around my eyes making it impossible for me to see where we were going. As they carted me off, I wondered if Alberto was stalking from the sidelines somewhere, watching me be carried away by his orders.
This is it, I thought. If he was going to kill me, this is how it would happen. The only question was...would I see it coming? Or would I just feel pain and slip away into death, never seeing the light of day again?
I was harshly thrown against something cold and hard. Stone...wet, dripping stone. Before I could even try to scramble away, they grabbed both of my hands and placed them in metal shackles that hung just low enough for me to almost be able to sit on the ground. When they finally removed the blindfold, I saw nothing but gray darkness...even darker than the windowless room I had been in before. This was the torture chamber I had heard rumors about. I could tell that I was buried deep underground, and with all that stone around me, no one would ever hear me scream.
I heard clacking shoes coming from the darkness. It wasn’t the same sound as the boots that had been pounding around me moments ago. The caregiver’s face appeared once more. She walked over to look at me, then nodded her head and turned her back.
“Wait!” I sobbed. “Could you at least tell my father where I am!? Bring me a message from him!? Next time you come! To bring food! Will you tell me if you’ve spoken with him!?”
“Next time!? There won’t be a next time!” She walked away as her wheezy laughter set in.
7
Alberto
I despised the looks on Pablo and Felix’s faces as they stared me down in my study. They were smug, vindicated, but also panicked. It was the worst thing to sense in the men that followed you and looked up to you. Not only had their own suspicions and fears been proven right, but they had lost some of their faith in me in the process.
It was too unsettling to bear. I stood and went over to toss some more logs in the fire and stoke the flames...Anything to avoid their judgmental silent expressions.
“She never should have been allowed to stay,” Pablo fumed. “Giving her a job like that...letting her roam around the property....,” he shook his head as he watched me, but quickly grew irritated with my back being turned to him. “Leave that! One of the workers can come in and tend to it.”
“Mind your place!” I shouted, quickly spinning on my heels with the metal rod in my hands. “She wasn’t allowed to roam freely. She was closely watched. I made sure of it.”
“Not closely enough, apparently,” Felix grumbled to himself.
“She’s Don Martino’s daughter! What did you expect?”
I didn’t honor their disrespect with an answer. I tossed the hot rod to the floor with a loud echoing crash. The last thing I needed was to have to submit to their questioning when I already felt duped enough. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so enraged and out of sorts. I kept thinking - this is what happens if you allow yourself to take pity on anyone. That’s why I was known as being so ruthless in the first place. One moment of softness could only ever cause messes like this one.
“I expected that she was actually pregnant,” I huffed, reminding myself as much as them.
I could see another rebuttal quickly forming on the tip of his tongue, but one of our men came barging into the room to interrupt.
“Have you forgotten to knock!?” I fumed. It was like everyone was forgetting their place now.
“Forgive me, Mr. Milano. It’s just that...Julian and Javier have arrived.”
“Perfect timing,” Felix huffed.
Our half-brothers had come to check in on a number of ongoing business matters, including the most recent land acquisition that resulted from our dinner the week before. We’d have to speak to them regarding the shared land with the Mendoza cousins as a bargaining chip, and there was a list of many other issues to resolve.
I sighed and rubbed my temples, lamenting over just how very little time I had to be dealing with spies who weaseled their way onto our property - especially young, mischievous women like Alicia.
Our worker stammered to speak again, knowing it was a sore subject. “And...and the Guevara woman. She’s been moved down into the cellar and is ready for