“Fine,” Valeria murmured, “I’ll take a ride.”
“Have fun.”
• • •
The first thing Valeria noticed when she arrived back at the stables after a quick ride to the cliffs—Jorge didn’t say how long she had to stay out, after all—was the line of her husband’s men walking the road as though they were meeting someone.
Maybe they were.
No one entered the gate before going through the guards.
The second thing Valeria noticed was that despite Jorge saying he would keep Maria with him, her daughter wasn’t anywhere to be seen as she steered the horse toward the stables. She tried to keep the panic at a manageable level, but it was hard.
Jorge’s threats lingered ...
She didn’t doubt that, if needed, he would take her daughter away, and there would be nothing she could do about it. It’s why she shut her mouth, behaved, and did as Jorge told her to do.
Who would protect Maria?
It had to be her.
Even if she sacrificed to do it.
The panic didn’t last for too long, however. She had just steered the horse to the stable’s entrance when across the ranch, the front door of their home flew open, and little Maria came flying down the steps, running in her mother’s direction.
It made Val smile.
Fuck Jorge.
He thought he could control the amount of love her daughter had for her by pitting the two against each other, but there was a lot he didn’t know about Maria. And even her, in a way. He thought he was aware of everything about Valeria, but she kept a lot to herself.
Like her daughter.
Next to her friend, Haven, the only person Maria had for the last few years was her mother. It was Valeria who taught her to speak, to read, and to sing; her who spent long nights holding her child when she was sick.
She loved her unconditionally.
And no matter what Jorge tried to do, he couldn’t erase those memories for Maria. Instead, every single time he raised his hand to strike the girl’s mother, he was simply adding to the reasons she distrusted and disliked him.
He would have to figure that out on his own time, though. Valeria didn’t plan to help him out in that regard.
“Mamá!” Maria shouted, still coming her way.
Valeria’s smile dropped when a woman stepped out of the house. Maria was already halfway across the property. The nanny—Carla Nunez. Or, a nanny was what Jorge liked to call the woman he kept around to make sure his bed was warm with a variety when he felt the need to change scenery from raping Valeria.
According to Abril, Carla—a year younger than Valeria in age—had come around after Valeria took off years ago and had stuck around. Now, Jorge used the woman to keep an eye on Maria, and her, too. She took great satisfaction in refusing to allow Valeria choices regarding her daughter, and more.
On the ranch, Carla was always nearby.
It drove her crazy.
The woman was a rat, reporting back on her behavior, and the things she did with her daughter. Little was private when someone was always waiting to listen in, and that left her unsettled.
Valeria jumped down from the horse, grabbing the reins to steer the animal into the stables while Maria was still running to catch up with her mom. Abril came out of the stable entrance with leather gloves in one hand, and her riding boots already on.
“I would have waited for you,” Valeria told her, “had I known you were going out.”
Abril shrugged. “I wasn’t going to, but then I heard we’ll have a visitor, and I don’t feel like being nice with Jorge while he plays with his friends.”
“What?”
“The Canadians are back,” Abril explained. “Or the one is—the younger one.”
Chris.
It had been a week since that first meeting, and a few days since the dinner, and Valeria almost forgot about him. Well, that was a lie. She couldn’t forget the devastatingly handsome man who seemed far too interested in her, but she knew it would be better for her if she did. So, she put him out of her mind.
“He’ll be staying a while,” Abril added, “because according to Samuel, they want to know how everything will go down for this deal.”
“Huh.”
“Mamá,” Maria huffed, out of breath as she came to a stop next to the horse Valeria had taken out, “was the water pretty today?”
Instantly, Valeria dropped to her knees. “It was. I’m sorry Papá said you couldn’t come. Later, okay?”
“What?” Abril asked.
“It’s nothing,” Valeria was quick to say, seeing that Carla was fast approaching, and not wanting her to hear, “but I wanted to take her out on a ride, and Jorge wouldn’t let me. You know how he is.”
Abril made a disgusted grunt, her gaze following Carla as the woman came closer. “Then, I will take her out with me.”
“You don’t have—”
“What’s he going to say, Val? Nothing.”
“Maria,” Carla called, “we have to finish your studies.”
Right, Valeria thought, because you know anything about tutoring my daughter.
“Actually,” Abril told the woman, taking Maria’s hand in her own to make her position clear, “she will go out on a ride with me, but thank you.”
Carla scowled as she reached their spot. “Jorge said—”
“You’re not Jorge.”
Abril smiled.
Carla stiffened.
“And I am sure you can find better things to do for two hours,” Abril added. “God knows you find enough to do at night when Valeria is the one putting her child to sleep, yes?”
Carla’s face reddened. “Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said.”
Valeria kept her mouth shut, knowing if she opened it, Carla would take that back to Jorge as this was her doing. She would pay for that later, so she knew better.
“Lunch is at one,” Carla snapped.
“I will have her back before then.”
That was that.
Valeria didn’t know whether to be grateful for her sister-in-law, or terrified that in a lot of ways, Abril was the same as her brother. She was just as volatile, and twice as dangerous when she wanted to be.
Manipulative.
Cunning, and sly.
What would she do with it?
That was the real question.
8.
“Arms out, like a T,” Jorge called, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.
Chris gave the man on the other side of the gate cocked brow, but did as Jorge ordered. The gate opened, and two of the armed guards that had walked out the exit road from the Lòpez ranch came through to check him, patting him down and looking for any sign of a wire. It had to be that because they didn’t seem to give a shit about the knife in his pocket.
He wouldn’t get so irritated over being checked. It wasn’t the first time he needed to do that, and God knew being who he was, he had enough run-ins with the cops over the years to be familiar with a pat down. It was more the fact that Jorge seemed to be enjoying Chris’s annoyance.
The one man with the bandana covering his face grabbed the duffle bag Chris had brought along with his clothes, and other items, from the ground. He wasn’t respectful about checking the bag.