She hesitates, something flickering behind her eyes. Secret knowledge, maybe?
"Frankie…maybe he’s trying to buy you time?"
Why is every answer I get from her suddenly more like a question?
"And Santiago believed that? From a guard?"
Her gaze slides away from mine like she’s choosing her words carefully.
"Frankie has worked for the family a long time. His word carries weight."
There's definitely something she's not telling me. I can see it in the way she won't meet my eyes and in how her hands twist together again.
"What aren't you telling me, Pita?"
"Nothing you need to worry about, mija." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Just stay in your room for now. I'll bring you dinner later."
She leaves before I can ask more questions, the door closing with a soft click. I could leave the room. I’m not locked in but for some reason, the thought of running into Santiago downstairs sends chills down my spine. For once I really am going to listen to what she told me to do. I sit on the edge of my bed before throwing myself flat on my back with a huff. The events of the last twenty-four hours swirl in my head like a hurricane.
Last night, I gave my virginity to Frankie. Today, my future father-in-law is here to "inspect" me before I marry his son. And somewhere in the forbidden wing, Frankie is arguing with the head of a cartel about me.
I press my fingers to my tender datura tattoo, feeling the slight raised edges of the fresh ink. It reminds me of the man who called me by that name, who took me gently and roughly all at once. I bite my bottom lip as I rub my fingertips against it absentmindedly.
‘A forever reminder.’
Chapter Nineteen
Liana
The late afternoon stretches into eternity as I pace my bedroom like a caged animal. I’m not even locked in but I still feel like I am. Pita hasn't come back yet and I'm afraid to leave and go find her. Four steps to the window and a small pause to watch unfamiliar guards patrol the grounds through the small crack in the curtains. Seven steps to the bookshelf, my fingers trailing over spines I've already memorized. Eight steps to the door and I press my ear against it, straining to hear anything beyond the suffocating silence of my bedroom. I am a princess in a tower, except there's no dragon to slay. There’s just a wedding I don't want and a groom I've never met. The only knight I might want to save me is the same one who keeps me locked away.
I peek out through the window curtains again and count six new guards I've never seen before. They move differently than Frankie's men. Why are they still here? Whatever's happening, it must be serious.
I reach for one of my romance novels, the one Frankiebought me that day at the mall, and open it carefully. Usually, these books are my escape, my secret way out of whatever prison I'm in. But today, the words do nothing. They are meaningless black marks that refuse to transport me anywhere. Bastards. How can I lose myself in fictional passion when my own life has become more complicated than any plot twist a romance author could ever invent?
I toss the book aside and press my palm against my datura tattoo. It's still a little tender, which I don’t mind. It’s a physical reminder of my rebellion…and my night with Frankie. Did I really think one night of passion would change anything between us? That giving myself to Frankie would somehow free me from this arranged marriage?
'You really are a naive, little girl.'
Pita finally makes an appearance, bringing food on a tray. My stomach growls at the sight of it but I can’t stomach eating it at the moment. I want to know where she’s been? Has she heard anything else? What else is going on? Her usual warm chatter is absent as she sets down the food and moves to leave.
"Wait," I call, catching her sleeve before she can escape. "What's happening downstairs? Is Frankie okay?"
"Of course. He’s just in meetings, mija. Important business. Nothing for you to worry about."
"Is Santiago still here? Will I have to meet him today after-all?"
I catch a flicker of something in her gaze…relief maybe?
"Not today,” she replies with a smile. Frankie has…arranged for the meeting to happen another time instead."
Now it’s my turn to feel relief that quickly turns to disappointment.
"But the wedding is still happening?" I hate how small my voice sounds.
Pita's face softens slightly.
"Sí, mija. Of course it is."
