Page 98 of Chris

Valeria’s shoulders dropped.

She knew it was too good to be true.

All day, she had focused on keeping her emotions under control. From the moment Chris had disappeared down the road leading out of the ranch, she had all she could do to keep from having a mental breakdown. She distracted herself with her child, and work around the house. Not to mention, staying the hell out of Jorge’s way.

What could he want now?

Turning around, she asked, “What else can I do for you?”

He tipped his head to the side, his gaze roving over her slowly like he was drinking her up. Had that been another man looking at her that way—Chris—she would have shivered, filled with anticipation about what might come next. Not this man though.

It made her shiver, sure.

But in disgust.

“Maria,” Jorge said.

“What about her?”

“That private school I had mentioned. I think it’s time we—”

Valeria opened her mouth, ready to plead if that’s what this asshole wanted, to keep her daughter with her, but the ringing phone on the desk saved her the trouble. For now, anyway. There was no way in hell she was allowing him to send Maria away.

“A moment,” Jorge muttered, giving her a glare as he reached for the landline. He didn’t even bother to pick the phone up, instead hitting a button that put the call on speaker phone as he answered with, “Hola, casa de Lòpez.”

The man on the other end of the line spoke fast, his Spanish coming out jumbled, making it hard for Valeria to follow along. Although, she managed to catch a few bits and pieces. Not that she needed to.

The expression on Jorge’s face told it all.

He’d moved from annoyed with her to stunned in a blink. And then, just as fast, his gaze darkened as his lips pulled into a sneer when he snarled, “What?”

“Attacked, they attacked the car,” the man muttered.

“How?”

“I don’t know … I—”

“You better figure it out!”

“Sorry, sorry,” the man rushed to say, stumbling over his Spanish yet again when he added, “T-the one, boss, they left him alive. The Canadian.”

“Christopher?”

“Yes, him. That one. He asked for a hospital, they told me. After the police arrived, and had called for an ambulance, he asked—”

“Which hospital?”

Valeria’s heart thundered in her chest. Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands when she squeezed her fists into tight balls. All that relief she had over Jorge leaving fled in an instant. Instead, a fear replaced it—a fear like never before.

Chris, her heart whispered.

Chris, Chris … Chris.

It had become a mantra.

Repeating with the beats of her heart.

God.