Page 10 of Game of Revenge

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Page 10 of Game of Revenge

“Who are you, and what do you want from me?” I asked calmly.

“My name is Alejandro,” he said.

“I’d say nice to meet you, but I’d be lying.”

“And I wouldn’t believe you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Since it seems like you can only answer one question at a time, let me ask you again, what do you want from me?”

Alejandro got off the desk and started walking slowly toward me, his hands in his pockets. He stopped just a few inches from me. I swallowed hard, fear pouring through my veins, but I had to stand my ground. This asshole was not going to get the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.

“You privileged little brat,” he grunted in a deeper voice that sent shivers down my spine. “Let me remind you that you are currently very far from home without anyone to protect you. Tread lightly. I don’t accept insolence and have no tolerance for a spoiled, useless woman like you. I suggest you watch your tone when you speak to me.”

My hands started to shake, but I quickly hid them in my pockets, doing my best to ignore the adrenaline coursing through me, telling me to run as fast as I could.

Instead, I held his gaze. It wasn’t his words that scared me; it was the calm and yet threatening tone that made every hair on my body rise. It was the way he never broke eye contact from the minute he turned around when I walked in the room.

He observed my bruised face and wrists as his jaw clenched and lips got tighter. He looked disgusted by me.

“I need to know—”

“No, you don’t,” he said, cutting me off. “You don’t need to know anything, and I don’t owe you any explanation.”

I let out an exasperated sigh.

“I have been held in captivity for over a week. I have bruises all over, and I am sore, and I am tired. I deserve to know what you want from me,” I explained with a broken voice.

Alejandro backed up a few steps and walked toward his desk.

“You are your father’s little pride and joy,” he said with disgust. “Let’s just hope he does what he has to do so you can get back to your little castle in no time.”

There was no point in arguing with him. I knew I wouldn’t get anything else out of him. And if he believed that my stepfather was going to do all it took to rescue me, it was my best card, even if I was starting to doubt it myself. If Alejandro or any other person involved believed that Richard wasn’t going to help, my life would no longer be of any value to them.

“Are you…are you going to kill me?”

My question was met with silence and indifference.

I swallowed hard but pushed further. “What do you want from him? Money?”

“It's time for lunch,” he said, ignoring my question.

He grabbed his phone and placed a call.

“Dolores, nos sirves la comida en mi despacho por favor? Gracias.”

Everyone spoke Spanish in this house. I had no doubt now that I had somehow crossed the frontier to somewhere in Mexico.

Apparently, Alejandro intended to have Dolores bring lunch for the both of us in his office. Was he crazy? He kidnapped me, and now he wanted to, what, break bread with me? Who in their right mind would see this situation as normal?

“We will sit out here to eat our lunch,” he announced as he opened one of the glass doors.

I reluctantly followed him out to a gray-stone patio with a nice off-white couch and a rectangular glass dining table with matching chairs. Two place settings were already set out on the table. Outside smelled of rain and freshly cut grass, but the sun was coming out, warming up the air and clearing up the skies.

The patio was big, but the bright-green yard was the size of a park, going all the way into what looked like the beginning of a forest. I could see part of the house as well. I was starting to realize that I was ironically being held captive in the most gorgeous Mexican hacienda I had ever seen.

I was enjoying the feeling of the sun caressing my skin after being away from it for a week. I wanted to scream that I refused to eat with him, but I was so excited to get to sit in the sun and breathe in some fresh air that I decided to swallow my pride and keep quiet. He pulled a chair out for me, and I reluctantly sat down. He took a seat next to me, at the head of the table.

“This is your house?”