Victor
"How's the situation?" I ask, annoyed by Luca's presence.
"If by 'situation' you mean that brat, things are complicated," he replies with a shrug.
I frown, not liking how he talks about her. "What is she doing now?"
"I heard her yelling at Rafael earlier. But it's quiet now," Luca responds.
I reopen the file I received earlier from Mario, where he gathered all the information he could find on me in such a short time. I've found out everything I need for now, so I throw the file in the bin and rush to the staircase.
Luca gets up as well and starts to follow me, but I stop him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him plopping down on the couch and lighting a cigarette. He knows I hate it when he smokes in here and never respects my request.
Reaching the top floor, Rafael's humble gaze greets me crookedly. His cousin gave me one of the most precious pieces of information on a day of crisis, which is why I promoted them.
Everyone in the Lopez family now has cleaner jobs. Also, Rafael is one of the most loyal guys I know. I trust him to keep an eye on this girl without trying his dirty tricks on her like any other scumbag working for me would have done.
I put my hand on the doorknob, but to my surprise, it is locked. I turn to Rafael with an outraged look. "Why is this door locked?"
"We had to make sure she couldn't escape, Patrón. These were Señor Marquez's orders," Rafael explains.
Of course. My cousin would come up with such a stupid idea. That girl doesn't even have half the strength of these idiots. How do they think she could get out of here?
"Unlock this fucking door and stop staring at me! And throw away that key! This door will stay unlocked! Did you understand?" I command.
"Sí, Patrón!" Rafael responds obediently.
I'm on the verge of hitting him. But I refrain. I'm still hurting from the shot I took the other day.
I slowly open the door, expecting chaos on the other side. Instead, I'm greeted with silence. Before I close the door behind me, I see Hellena on the floor.
She looks exhausted.
A sadistic smile forms at the corner of my mouth as I see her completely devastated. It's as if she fought all night in a boxing ring. Her hands and knees are sore, her skin taking on a reddish-purple hue from the traumas she endured. Her hair is a tangled mess.
"Get up!" I snap, noticing her lack of reaction to my presence.
She doesn't even flinch when my voice vibrates throughout the room. Does she not know what fear is? This girl is unsettling me. The nonchalance with which she deals with the threats around her makes me question my sanity even more.
She slowly lifts her head, her empty eyes piercing through me. I feel the urge to take a step back, but I fight it. She was just a small girl, smaller than the average person, thin and weak, and yet I have never felt weaker before a person than I do before her.
"What do you want?" she spits out the words with disdain.
To see a little fear in you. To see you shaking in front of me. That's what I want. So I can have some fun.
But she's not going to give me any of that.
"Don't you want to know why you're here?" I raise an eyebrow at her, expecting some reaction.
Fuck. She just made the impossible possible. No reaction. No expression whatsoever. Nothing. Just a huge emptiness hiding behind her chocolate eyes.
"I don't care," she says flatly, eventually getting up from the floor and going to sit on the bed, completely ignoring my presence.
Is she crazy? Does she have any idea who we are and where she is?
"Are you gonna let me go?" she asks, not even looking at me.
"Yes," I responded, making her finally turn to me.
She studies me for a moment, her gaze unwavering. It's as if she's trying to see through me, to decipher my intentions. But she'll find nothing there.
"Alive?" she questions, her voice devoid of emotion.
"Alive," I confirm, surprised by her bluntness.
"Why?" This time her words were laced with skepticism.
I shrug, unable to come up with a satisfactory answer even for myself.
Why did I intervene to protect her?
Why did I bring her here instead of letting Sánchez do what I also wanted to do?
"I don't know," I admit, feeling a twinge of frustration at my own lack of understanding.
She nods slowly, seemingly accepting my response, though her eyes remain guarded. Then, without another word, she lies back on the bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
I watch her for a moment, a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach. There's something about her, something that I can't quite put my finger on. She's not like anyone I've ever encountered before, and that both intrigues and unnerves me.
"When?" she presses, her tone unchanged.
"When your father comes after you," I reply, hoping to elicit some reaction from her.
She looks at me for a few seconds, her expression inscrutable. "I guess you'll have to get used to me living here. That's not going to happen."
I watch as she turns her back to me again, seemingly ready for a midday nap.
"He'll come after you at some point," I assert, hoping to provoke some emotion from her.
But she surprises me once again.
"I'm not stupid. Do you think I don't know that he left the country, running away from God knows what threat, leaving me behind? If he cared one bit about me, don't you think he would have taken me away from all this?"
Her words sting.
"Where is Bernoulli?" I ask, taking a step toward the bed.
"Let me know when you find out. I want to know that too," she retorts.
Feeling a mixture of frustration and bewilderment, I turn my back, ready to leave the room.
"Thank you," she whispers.
Her sincere words halt me in my tracks. I glance back over my shoulder, her tired eyes piercing through the silence between us.
"For taking that bullet," she adds, a hint of color entering her voice.
I remain silent. Even if I wanted to speak, I wouldn't know what to say. Each passing moment in that room feels like a degradation of my brain.
Stepping out into the hallway only deepens my disorientation. I struggle to articulate the strangeness of it all and the hollow ache in my chest.
Rafael stares at me expectantly, awaiting orders I cannot give. In this moment, I have nothing for him. Only a foolish impulse to go back into the room I just left.
My mind seems utterly vacant as I return to the bedroom. The mischievous girl is no longer in my bed; she stands near the window.
Upon noticing me, she frowns, crossing her arms defensively. But such gestures offer her no protection against me. In fact, they stir within me a primal desire. She presses her arms against her chest so forcefully that it seems her shirt might burst at the seams.
I lift my gaze to her face, a move I instantly regret. Her eyes unsettle me, yet at the same time captivate me. It's this mix of emotions that really scares me. I yearn to unravel her mystery, to delve into the depths of her soul and understand the darkness that seems to consume her from inside.
A muffled knock interrupts our silent exchange. We both turn towards the door as Luca enters, holding a plate with food. His surprise at finding me lingering in the room is evident.
"Why are you bringing this up here?" I snap at him.
Luca's dark eyes widen as he glances first at the tray in his hand, then back at me.
"Isn't she allowed to eat?" he asks, his tone tinged with disgust.
I bring my hand to my head, rubbing it hard in an attempt to relax my nerves.
"Cousin, you're testing my patience. Why is she eating up here if the table is set downstairs?"
"Is she allowed out?" he looks at me perplexed, and I bite my tongue to keep from hitting him.
"Yes! Of course, she's allowed to leave this room! She's not a prisoner! She's here for us to protect her!" I bite down on the last words, unsure if they're a lie or the truth.
I want to see a reaction from her. A spark. Anything.
Hellena steps closer to me, and I stiffen.
Only now do I see her true beauty. And I'm not talking about physical appearance. There's something more in the way she moves, in the way her lips twitch as she's about to speak, in those big, tender eyes that look at me with curiosity.
She is so beautiful.
My cousin clears his throat as he notices my prolonged gaze at her. It's evident to anyone with half a brain what's going on with me.
"Lunch is ready!" Luca announces to both of us before swiftly exiting the room.
"Am I allowed out?" her voice changes. She seems curious and somewhat relaxed.
I nod briefly.
"How long will I be staying here?"
My gaze falls to her peachy lips. They're full and nicely contoured. The lower lip slightly larger than the upper, but the asymmetry only adds to their appeal.
"For a while, until we deal with your father's enemies. You're the main target now, and anyone could find you. Besides, I doubt they'll be as lenient as me."
Her lips press into a thin line as she contemplates my words. I know I've spoken the truth.
"I have to go back to school. I'll have my final exams soon. And I need to apply to a university. I can't stay locked up in here forever."
"You'll take classes online. You'll take the exams under the same conditions," I say, trying to maintain a neutral tone, though it's difficult, especially when met with her glaring gaze. "And you won't stay here forever."
She's not pleased with my answer, but I'm not going to dwell on her reaction. Perhaps she thinks it's a game. Unfortunately for her, I'm not willing to let her roam free outside with a target as big as the sun on her forehead.
"Rafael will show you around. You're not allowed to go outside the property. That's the only limit. And don't ask me what happens if you do. The answer is simple. There are more Sánchez out there than you can count on your fingers, ready to put a bullet in your head, and I'm not willing to take them anymore."
I watch her swallow her words, hoping my threat will keep her safe. She responds with a brief nod, choosing to remain silent. I can't help but offer her a smile. Right now, I don't want her to fear me. Oddly enough, I'd like the opposite.
"Let's go, Freckles." I nod towards her. "You have to eat!"