Sold To Mr. Milano (Evil Empires Book 1)

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Sold To Mr. Milano (Evil Empires Book 1) Page 11

by Daniella Wright


  “We don’t have all day, woman,” I snapped as I watched her dolly around the empty campsite.

  She was getting used to my moodiness, so much that she rolled it right off her shoulders most of the time now. I didn’t like how comfortable she had become around me. Everyone else was afraid of me, and she seemed to think I was just some harmless dog for her to play with. It made me feel tamed and powerless...two things I never cared to be.

  The clouds parted some as we traveled into her town. People stood in the yards in front of their tiny, run-down homes and marveled at the sight of me riding by. They looked fearful but humble. Of course, people with no money hated men like me. Alicia was no different. They claimed it was because I did bad or immoral things to gain my fortune, but I thought it was really out of envy. They hated that I had the drive to do what it took to get what I wanted, while they let themselves wallow in pity over what they didn’t have.

  The sight of the poorly cared for town just added to the sourness in the pit of my stomach, as did the light in Alicia’s eyes. My estate and big mansion did nothing for her, but she looked at this sad excuse for a community like it was a damn palace.

  “I cook dinner there two or three times a week,” she beamed as she pointed to a community center on the corner. “Tons of people in town come and sit down around a big table together and laugh and eat. Sometimes people donate wine or liquor. You would actually enjoy it...if you could ever bring yourself to show your face at such a thing.”

  “I’m sure half the people have starved since you’ve been gone,” I scoffed sarcastically.

  “Not as many people as you’ve managed to starve when you force them away from their homes and jobs so you can stick another piece of land under your belt,” she snapped back.

  My bitterness didn’t stop her from pointing out all the places that were near and dear to her heart as we passed. The longer it went on, the more my grumpy mood faded into something different. I watched her glow with pride as she looked around her hometown. I couldn’t imagine why her father forced them to live in a place like this when surely his detective salary could have afforded them something better. My protectiveness came back, and I hated him for not giving Alicia a better life.

  But her eyes were filled with nothing but love as she went on and on about all the people she knew and the places they went. A fit of sad jealousy sparked inside of me. I wished that she looked at me with that kind of innocent love in her eyes. Or that I loved anything in the way she seemed to love her home.

  I turned my thoughts to all I needed to do when I returned home, or I tried to at least. There was an emptiness to it all now that I had never felt before. Life had always been a game to me. My parents never had high expectations for what I might accomplish because we were already wealthy. I took it as a challenge and decided I would just add to our riches in ways no one ever thought possible. But the prize for it all was just endlessly acquiring more and more...And for the first time, that prize seemed boring to me.

  I ignored the way Alicia watched me as we rode along. She always did that. Stared at me for a long time as she gathered her thoughts. Every time I knew she was deciding something about me and that she’d soon have something new to bother me with.

  “What will you do after this?” she asked, sounding curious and accusing all at once.

  “What I’ve always done. What else would you expect?”

  “I didn’t know if I had managed to inspire any change of heart in you...after all of our talks about what’s right and wrong...and what’s good for the people of Argentina.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, laughing to myself. But my laughter faded into an awkward discomfort. Something in me had changed it seemed, but I didn’t know how or why. And I would never admit to it regardless.

  “What about all of those unclaimed goods?” she pressed. “Sure, you give a few jobs to people who need them, but that doesn’t make it any better than depriving the people of those tax dollars.”

  “I suppose I should sell it all off and give the money to these people?” I mocked her, glaring at the barefoot children running down the side of the street and the worn-down workers walking on their lunch breaks.

  “Or better yet, donate the goods. Perhaps I could talk to some officials and see to it that you don’t face any penalties or repercussions...if it was all going to charity,” she suggested with a smug tone.

  “Is that what this is all about?” I grumbled. “You making up your mind about what to tell your father?”

  “I’ll have to tell him something,” she said grimly. “He’ll have all sorts of questions about you and your estate, and he knows me too well to believe that I’d come back empty-handed.”

  “Haven’t I done enough for you!?” I fumed, thinking about how disruptive all of this had been. But the reminder was a relief. Soon she would be gone and I’d be free of her incessant questions and snide comments. Maybe that wasn’t so bad after all.

  Any softness she was carrying quickly vanished. Her spine straightened and I could see her face tighten with annoyance. We went the rest of the way in silence, but not until she got in one last little jab.

  “I guess some people never do change.”

  No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I was happy she would soon be gone, the closer we got to Don Martino’s, the more severe the aching in my chest became. Her constant nagging and insistence that people in need were worth helping...It was all so infuriating, and yet, it seemed better than the silence I would soon be facing on the long journey back alone. And again once I returned to my empty bedroom at the manor.

  “We’ll stop by Pablo’s on the way back tonight,” I informed my men, prompting them to exchange a few grins and winks. I had to set something up for myself to look forward to.

  “The brothel!?” Alicia gasped with disgust.

  “Like I told you before...it all fuels the economy, sweetheart. And that’s good for all of us. That place is how some of the women in your beloved little town pay their rent.” I felt my heart swell with something good for the first time that day. I liked seeing how much the thought of me going to a brothel seemed to bother her.

  “And how they end up pregnant and being sold off in the black market,” she replied, but not with spite. She stared off in deep thought, and I could see the wheels turning in her head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I barked.

  “What?” she looked at me, feigning innocence.

  “Don’t bat your lashes at me like that. I know exactly what you’re thinking. If after all this I walk back into that market next week and find you there all over again, I’ll buy you up and throw you back into my basement. Only this time I’ll get rid of the key and let you stay in there until you’re old and gray.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t just leave me to fend for myself?”

  “And give you the sick satisfaction of proving that you could find out what you wanted without getting yourself killed? Not a chance in hell.”

  She smiled, looking awfully pleased with herself. I couldn’t help but smile a little myself, but that got harder to do as we approached the edge of Don Martino’s property. I waved for my men to hold back and let Alicia and I go the rest of the way alone.

  We rode along to the entrance of the long driveway, being careful to stay hidden behind the tree line. “I’m going to leave you here,” I told her, eyeing the distant house through the trees. I wasn’t about to put up with whatever the Great Detective would have to say to me if he saw his precious daughter in my custody.

  She nodded and stared down at her hands, but didn’t move. The moment felt so final and desperate. I could just stay on my horse and send her off like that. There were so many things raging inside of me, none of which I seemed able to say out loud. But the least I could do was get off of my horse. She did the same and we marched towards each other, still being careful that nobody could see us.

  Not knowing what to say, I inched closer to her and st
ared at her plump red lips. I could admit to that much...the way I longed for her body. I knew no woman at the brothel would compare to her or the feeling of laying her down. I knew it because every woman I had ever been with paled in comparison. Maybe I was forever ruined. It pained me to look into her dark, glinting eyes and those swollen lips, knowing I would never have her in the same way again.

  “Thank you for bringing me home,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

  I couldn’t say I was glad I did it. Part of me wanted to snatch her up and hold her down as I galloped like hell back to one of my properties. I could spoil her with the finest clothes and jewelry and wines until she admitted living the modest, moral life wasn’t so great after all.

  Since there was no right thing to say or do, I crashed my lips against hers, gripping her body tight. I was still never entirely certain if she’d give into me any time I kissed her. It was hard to know when we walked such a fine line between hatred and desire. But she melted into me just as she had done before, not seeming to care that I had been so grumpy all morning. I guess it was what she expected of me.

  I kissed her until the longing and ache inside of me swelled so greatly that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ripped my mouth away from hers and briskly turned to get back on my horse. She watched me with a pained expression before finally grabbing her horse’s lead and turning to approach the small metal gate.

  I planned to watch until I saw she was half way down the driveway so I’d know she was safe, but she stopped as she lifted the latch and looked back at me. I knew she was either gathering up the strength to say something, or was waiting for me to start talking. I didn’t want either of us to say anything, and watching her walk away was harder than I thought it would be. It seemed neither of us would budge if I stayed there like that, so I was left with no choice but to ride back to my men...leaving her behind.

  “That’s one feisty broad,” one of them noted as I returned.

  “Just shut up and ride,” I barked, blazing up ahead of them all.

  I stayed alone at Pablo’s that night, not wanting to have another woman next to me but also not wanting to go back on my promise to the men. While the sounds of other men’s pleasures echoed through the walls of the brothel, I laid alone in the room I rented for the night and thought about Alicia curled up safe and sound at home...where she belonged. I had to say it to myself over and over again. She belonged at home with her father...Not with me.

  16

  Alicia

  I don’t know what I expected from Alberto when he dropped me off. It was hard to ever know what to expect from him. At night when we were alone, he could be so tender and loving. But he spent the entirety of our last morning together griping and brooding over every little thing. Was I crazy to think he was upset because we were parting ways? Or was he just ready to be done with me and eager to set off on his stupid little trip to the brothel? And why did I care anyway?

  All I should have cared about was returning home to my father. But as I walked down the cobblestone path to our front door, still leading the horse Alberto left with me, I felt a tug in my heart. Some kind of pull that made me long to turn around and run right back into Alberto’s arms.

  I did my best to push those urges down and keep walking. I was sure that once I settled back into my home and saw my father’s face, all of these ridiculous feelings would fade. After all, for every act of kindness Alberto had shown me, there were just as many acts of cruelty. It was absurd to be pining over him as I returned to the place I wanted to be more than anywhere.

  Tears started streaming down my face as I lifted my hand to knock on the door, but I quickly wiped them away. I didn’t want my father to see me crying the moment he answered. He came to the door in a frenzy, as if he had spent every day storming around the house just waiting for this very moment...waiting for me to knock and be home with him again.

  As the door flung open, Don Martino froze in disbelief. His mouth was gaping and his gray hair was disheveled, sticking up in every direction. The lines on his face seemed deeper, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

  “Papa,” I whispered under my breath, still holding back tears.

  “Alicia!” he cried, wrapping his arms around me.

  As he sobbed, I let my own tears fall freely. There was no use holding it in. We laughed and cried as he pulled me into the house and quickly locked and shut the door behind us as if he didn’t plan on ever letting me leave again. We were both pretty speechless for a while, barely getting a word out here and there. Mostly we just marveled at the sight of each other. I wasn’t the only one who started to think I would never be coming home.

  He knew well enough not to ask me too much right away. He threw another log on the fire and let me settle in before bringing me a tray of tea and crackers. Then he just sat across from me and waited for the story he knew was coming. It was the same way we spent many afternoons and nights, only usually we were talking about the crimes he was investigating or politics. It was strange to be back here after having such a huge adventure of my own.

  “Was it the black market? The selling of pregnant women?” he asked in a knowing, fatherly tone.

  “Yes,” I confessed. He let out a big sigh of disappointment that I went despite his warnings, but relief that I was sitting here in front of him to tell him about it. “Things didn’t exactly...go as planned. But that was how it all started.”

  “I told you not to go, Alicia,” he scolded.

  “It was okay, Papa. Someone saved me. Well, sort of. They took me away from the market, and...eventually returned me home to you.”

  He was quiet for a moment as he took it in, then a strange smile crept across his mouth. “And I suppose whoever this man was...You have fallen in love with him?”

  “What!? No!” I shrieked with wide eyes. “Papa, what on earth would make you think that!?”

  “It’s the look in your eyes. The dreaminess in your voice. You look like a woman who is in love.”

  My heart started pounding. “No, that’s not it at all. You see...it was Alberto Milano who saved me.”

  His little grin was gone in a flash. A wave of emotions flashed over his eyes ranging from anger to fear to something else entirely...something much darker.

  “Saved you?” he scoffed. “Ha! Why don’t you tell me what really happened!? Alberto Milano doesn’t save anything that doesn’t put more money into his pockets. Nevermind,” he decided out loud as he got up and stormed off into his bedroom. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m sending men out after him right now.”

  I leaped up to chase him through the house, trying to calm him down. “Papa, don’t be ridiculous! You can’t send anyone after him when he was the one who delivered me home safely! He didn’t do anything wrong!” I defended him vehemently, but the words weren’t exactly true. He had done plenty wrong.

  My father turned his attention to looking out the windows. “So, where is he!? Is he still out there!? I want to have a word with him!”

  “No! He’s gone! Will you please just…”

  “Of course he’s gone! He dropped you off and ran like a coward!”

  It took forever to calm him down enough to sit across from me by the fire again. I hated insisting that Alberto wasn’t so bad and that there was no reason to go after him. He had treated me horribly at times. I remembered the way he chained me up and the cold buckets of water he nearly drowned me in. But somehow, all of that was overshadowed by everything that came after.

  “I guess...I can see that you’re safe,” my father admitted after a while, but he did so with a pout. It wasn’t easy for him to put his grudge aside.

  “I think, perhaps, Alberto is not entirely who we thought he was. There’s...more to him than that.”

  At least I could say that much honestly. He wasn’t a good man, but he wasn’t an evil one either. I wanted to believe he was decent but had learned to do bad things to further himself in life. But before all of this happened, I never would ha
ve believed such a thing was true.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Father grumbled. “Well, at least tell me what you found out. If you were at his estate this entire time, I know you must have seen and heard things. No daughter of mine would miss an opportunity to spy on the Milanos.”

  “I learned things...Yes,” I answered slowly. “But nothing incredibly useful.”

  “You’re lying,” he fumed. “Just a little time with that bastard and you’re already lying to cover things up for him!?”

  “Will you please calm down!? Look, I don’t like Alberto any more than you do. But I was also captured by the Mendozas, and he came to rescue me. He could have just left me there, and I’d still be buried in their basement now or who knows what else. But no, he came and got me and then brought me home to you. Whatever I saw or learned while I was at his estate...none of it was bad enough to overshadow what he did for me by saving my life and bringing me home.”

  My father stared off into the fire as he considered it all carefully. “Okay,” he sighed finally. “I can’t promise I will ignore his shady business forever, but I suppose we do owe him at least a little gratitude for what he did.”

  I hugged my father tight and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

  “But I still don’t trust him, and I never will. He’s manipulative, and I’m certain that’s the only reason you’re defending him now. Once you’ve had some time away from him, you will see him differently.”

  I hoped my father was right, as sick as it was. I didn’t want to believe that I could be so easily swayed by Alberto, but there was no denying my longing to be with him again. And each time I thought of his bad ways, the way I had been raised to do, I felt a softness that was never there before. Something in me that said he wasn’t as bad as we always thought or that he at least stood a chance at redemption.

 

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