The zip ties are too tight. I should stop struggling, but I cannot help myself. “Where am I?” I gasp. “How long…are you…going to keep me here?”
Pinzon smiles down at me again. Ihatehis smile. Leo should have blinded him.
“Overnight. Tomorrow, you will watch your precious candidate die. Then your lover. After that…” He pulls a switchblade from his pocket. I flinch at the snap. “Maybe we will have some fun together when Muñoz is declared the winner.”
“Stay away from me, asshole!” I wriggle back, but there’s nowhere to go. His idea offunis my worst nightmare. Kicking out, I catch him in the shin.
“Fucking bitch!” He grabs my swollen ankle. This is it. He will hurt me now. “You are lucky we need you to look…presentable tomorrow. But once yourboyfriendkills Cortez…”
The blade slides under the zip tie and snaps it in two. Before I can react, Pinzon spins me around and frees my hands.
I try to get to my knees, but he shoves me back down. “You want to spend the next eighteen hours hogtied? Try that again!”
My stomach twists into a knot. I start to shake. Pins and needles prick at my fingers. Bright red welts mar my wrists.
The door bangs open, and I yelp, throwing my hands up in front of me. The other man—the one I recognized from the van—looms in the open space.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he snaps. “She isn’t to be touched until tomorrow, and I don’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“I almost lost an eye!” Pinzon says. “I deserve—”
“You’ll get what you deserve when Cortez is dead. Until then, stay away from her.” The man grabs Pinzon by the arm and practically shoves him out the door.
All I can see is a short hallway, but after a string of muttered curses, Pinzon’s footsteps echo on the stairs.
If I can get out… Except I don’t know what lies beyond those steps.
The man leans against the doorjamb, blocking any hope of escape. His stance is casual, but he rests a hand on the butt of a gun strapped to his hip.
“Ms. Sanchez. Domina. Do you know who I am?”
“No. Please, let me go. Leo will never kill Manuel. Not even to save me. Your plan—whatever it is—will fail, and I do not want to die.”
“Oh, I think Mr. Basher will do exactly what we say.” The man pulls out his phone, taps the screen, and shows it to me.
The video is grainy, but Leo has Rafael pinned to a table. “Where is your goddamn vice president? SomeonetookDomina, and until we find her, I’m holdingyoupersonally responsible, you traitorous piece of shit!”
Oh, God. They had cameras in the hotel. If they could do that… Did they hear our conversation with Manuel this morning? Or last night? Are they watching the apartment building?
The man tucks his phone back into his pocket. “We have eyes everywhere, Domina. And right now, your lover wants to burn down the entire world. Do you really think he won’t killoneman to save you?”
Lifting my chin, I stare up at him. Showing fear will not help me now. I need information. Anything that might help me live through this.
“If he’d killed Rafael, you would have shown me that. So yes. I do believe in Leo.”
He chuckles. “We are going to have a little talk, and you will tell me everything about the men Mr. Basher is with. Everything I do not already know, that is.”
Dragging a chair partway into the room, he sits, pulls the gun from its holster, and rests it across his thigh.
“You need me…presentable. So you cannot shoot me. Or break bones. Why do you expect me to tell you anything?” Challenging this man could be a terrible mistake, but none of this makes any sense.
“Have you ever heard of stress positions, Domina?” he asks. “They are designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain while leaving very few marks on the body. At the moment, you are…comfortable. Yes?”
Fear sours my stomach, but I cannot let him see how very frightened I am. “I was kidnapped and thrown in the back of a van. Punched, slapped,dropped.”
“But you are not currently screaming. That can change very quickly.” With a casual wave of the gun, he sighs. “I should introduce myself. My name is Sergio Muñoz. Eduardo Muñoz is my father.”
I am too shocked to find any kind of retort. Sergio smiles, but unlike Pinzon, there is nothing in his eyes when he does so. No desire. No joy. No hatred or anger.
