Vanessa
I pull on a vibrant yellow sundress, a deliberate choice to provide some relief from the heat of the tropical weather. As I sit on the bed, I feel a buzz of anticipation coursing through me for the upcoming dinner date. Diego has been so busy working, I was starting to believe that he wouldn't honor our deal, but we're finally having dinner together, and hopefully I'll get some answers.
My gaze drifts towards the dresser, where Mom's urn rests. Diego's decision to have his men pack it caught me off guard, but he said that it was to prioritize my comfort. The unexpected trust he displays by providing me with a phone and laptop, granting access to the outside, leaves me feeling grateful. Despite the unfavorable circumstances, I appreciate these gestures from him.
I decide to call Alicia and check on her. She was also given more freedom, of course with supervision. The men pretty much take her where she wants to go and cater to her every need. It's a huge difference from the previous arrangement, and I'm sure she's loving it.
Unsure of the time difference, I dial her number, confident that she'll answer no matter what. Once the line connects, I say, "Hey Alicia, how are you doing?"
Her voice on the other end trembles with concern, "Worried sick. They won't tell me where he took you. Are you safe, Nessa? Is he hurting you?"
"We're on this secluded island, I'm pretty sure he owns it. The beauty here is surreal, like stepping into a fucking postcard. Crystal-clear waters, pristine beaches, and greenery everywhere. I'm having a lot of fun exploring," I confess quietly.
Alicia's response is laden with frustration, "What is wrong with you? You sound...brainwashed. Taking you to some nice island doesn't change the fact that you're still his prisoner, and he forced you into marrying him."
Ever since I explained the reasons behind our marriage, I guess Alicia realized that our abduction extended beyond gangbangs with Diego's men. It meant making sacrifices to rectify Dad's mistakes.
"I can admit, I was blinded for a while by the idea of having freedom in the first time since Mom died. We were supposed to be in this situation for six months, but after we pulled up at that church, I realized he never intended to release you. There's something dark and fucked up about him, and it's only a matter of time before he snaps and hurts you. Maybe even worse, he could kill you, and I can't do anything to stop it."
"He won't hurt me," I assure her.
"Are you stupid? Of course, he'll hurt you," she retorts, "I did some research on him earlier. His brother went missing five years ago. It's a cold case, but both of us can guess who's responsible."
What? Is that really possible?
"If your husband can kill his own brother, he'll have no problem making you disappear too," she continues, disdain leeching into her words.
I bite my lip, my silence echoing the weight of this new information. Could he really have killed his own brother and then tattooed his name on his chest as some kind of trophy? The idea seems beyond psychotic. Yes, Diego is a bit unhinged, but I can't imagine him murdering his own family. He seems to hate Celeste, yet she's still breathing.
Our conversation is abruptly interrupted by a forceful knock at the door. "Diego is ready for you," Danny shouts through the threshold.
Fuck.
"Uhh, Alicia, I have to go. I'll talk to you later," I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. How can I possibly sit through dinner with Diego with this on my mind? He'll immediately sense that I'm hiding something from him.
"I swear when you get back, we're finding a way to escape," Alicia declares before hanging up.
I meet Danny in the hallway, and he escorts me outside. A tempting aroma envelops me, making my stomach growl impatiently. I hope whatever he has prepared is edible because it smells undeniably delicious.
"You'd let me know if he's attempting to poison me, right? I mean, can he even cook?" I whisper to Danny as if Diego could overhear my question and get offended.
I've never seen him in the kitchen before. I always assumed he had a cook, even as a child.
Danny chuckles. "We had strict Mexican mothers. Of course, he knows how to cook."
"Good to know," I mutter, making a futile attempt to push down the nerves that seem to claw at my insides. It's just dinner with my husband, nothing particularly special.
Yet, my mind continues to race. Three months ago, I was forcibly taken against my will by him, and here I am, voluntarily sitting down to have dinner at his side. He's a kingpin in the underworld, a man who orchestrates murders on a regular basis, and now I've stumbled upon the chilling possibility that he could be responsible for his own brother's death.
What if one day he decides to get rid of me too?
The rhythmic pounding in my chest competes with the soft shuffle of sand under my feet as I trail behind Danny to the ocean. The night air is warm, and the only sound is the calming rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore.
Wasn't this what I wanted? A chance to build a connection with him? Despite the monster I know he is, he's still my husband. We'll have to find a way to coexist, at least for now. Maybe I'll consider Alicia's plan to escape when I return. By then, I could completely earn Diego's trust, and he wouldn't suspect a thing until we're already out of the country. It's a last resort, though. I shudder at the thought of spending the rest of my life on the run, especially knowing he'd undoubtedly come looking for me.
My heart flutters when I see that Diego has laid out a blanket on the sand with two plates of food and glasses of champagne. The soft glow of battery-operated candles casts a warm ambiance around us, accentuating the large, beautiful moon that graces the dark sky overhead.
Diego is dressed casually in black slacks and a black button-up shirt. The top two buttons are undone, allowing his tattoos to peek through. He seems lost in thought, staring out into the expanse of the ocean until the sound of our approach captures his attention. With a swift motion, he turns around, extending his hand toward me.