Vanessa
"Do you usually have your men follow you everywhere?" I ask, more out of curiosity than judgment. While I initially assumed it was because of me, they already seem to be in the routine of shadowing his every move. What does a dangerous man like him need a security detail for?
"My world is a dangerous one and I have many enemies," he answers simply.
That really doesn't explain anything, but I don't expect him to explain further. I doubt he'll ever open up to me, and why should he? I'm just his fuck toy.
Over the next two hours, we move from store to store, interacting with the owners and exploring racks of designer clothing that stand like sentinels. The richness of colors and fabrics feels almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the limited wardrobe I've grown up with.
At first, I didn't want to get anything, considering the outrageous prices on the tags, but then Diego just sat tapping his foot until I picked something up. And then I kind of just went crazy and started trying on and picking out what I liked. Surprisingly, I thought Diego would've gotten bored this whole time and pull out his phone or something, but he watches me with interest, as if he wants to see my clothing preferences for himself.
We're in the last store of the day, since Diego said we had to go soon. I'm just glad to finally have some clothes that I picked out myself since he controls every other aspect of my life. As the elderly woman, Ms. Garcia, delicately bags my clothes, she stares at my neck. "That is a very beautiful necklace. Silver was a good choice, it goes with everything," she comments with a kind smile.
"It's actually my collar," I mutter bitterly.
Her eyes snap to Diego and back to me. "Well, aren't you lucky? Mr. Reyes is sex on legs. If I were a decade or two younger, I'd take a ride on that stud," she says, winking at me.
I nearly vomit in my mouth. I don't care how attractive he is; he's still a monster, and I'll never ride anything on his tainted body.
I fake a smile. "You could always take him off my hands if you'd like."
Anything to get him away from me.
Abruptly, the sound of breaking glass fills the air, and the elderly woman crumples to the ground, a bullet hole struck right in the center of her forehead. Her lifeless gaze fixates on me, the shock frozen on her face, and the acrid scent of gunpowder and death linger.
A scream escapes my lips, only to be muffled as Diego swiftly tackles me, his hand covering my mouth. The warmth of his body does unspeakable things to mine even when we're facing danger. "Mama, stay low, crawl over there behind the counter," he instructs in a hushed tone. Though he grants me enough space to slip from beneath him, I find myself paralyzed with fear.
"W-What is going on?" I squeak, my breathing coming out in short, rapid breaths. My heart thuds against my ribcage like a trapped animal, and I'm pretty sure I'm having a heart attack as my mind struggles to comprehend what the fuck is happening right now.
Diego's features harden with the severity of our situation. "I need you to listen. That's the only way you're going to survive. Get your ass behind the counter."
I nod and obey him. A million questions race through my mind as I crawl to the counter. I can't believe I just watched someone die right in front of me. That could've been me! This is all Diego's fault. He got an innocent, old woman killed, and I bet it doesn't even bother him. Tears stream down my face as I press my back against the counter and pull my knees up to my chest. This is the dangerous world Dad warned us about. The world ran by men like Diego.
Suddenly, another gunshot rings through the air. "Diego!" I shriek. He's not dead, right? I'm smart enough to know that his enemies are not just going to let me go. They'll kill me, or worse...do all the things Diego has yet to do.
My breaths come in short gasps, and my chest tightens with panic. Diego emerges from the opposite side of the counter, pulling his gun from his waistband. His eyes scan the room with a lethal intensity that both terrifies and oddly reassures me. The distant echoes of gunfire create a symphony of chaos, reverberating through the air.
Diego's gaze narrows as he mutters, "I can't get in contact with Danny or Quincy. Something's not right." A shadow of concern crosses his face, quickly hidden. His next words are firm and commanding, "Stay here and don't move. I'll come back for you when it's safe."