Page 29 of When Lies Unfold

7:00 a.m.

When I head into Aarón’s office, a fraction of the tension has subsided.

It’s already rained heavily for a few hours, leaving everything and everyone in a state of lethargy.

It’s not yet rainy season, but Mother Nature is giving us a taste of what’s to come today. The roads are a slippery mess of mud, which is why most of us wear our rubber boots.

Sabrina and I gather the keys for our cleaning assignments and head outside, preparing to trek to the various homes. We’re prepared as usual, with our ponchos rolled up inside our bags. It comes with the territory for those who don’t own any means of transportation.

We’re a few feet from Aarón’s office when a black SUV pulls up, the all too familiar blacked-out windows hiding who’s inside.

My feet slow, and Sabrina follows suit, casting me a worried glance.

The vehicle pulls directly in front of us, stopping Sabrina and me from continuing down the drive. When the rear passenger door flings open and a familiar masculine voice orders, “Get in, Miss Arias,” Sabrina grabs me by the arm.

Concern lines my friend’s features, but I muster a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” When her worry doesn’t recede, I cover her hand that’s still holding my arm and gently pry her fingers loose. “It’s okay, Sabrina.”

My repeated words must sink in, because she drops her hand at her side and retreats a step.

“Miss Arias…” The asshole beckons again from within the SUV. “Get in.”

I stomp to the open door, my mouth parting to inform him that I have work to do, but he cuts me off. “Aarón has been informed, and everything’s been taken care of.” A millisecond pause follows. “Now, get in.”

Behind us, the door to Aarón’s business office flies open, and he emerges. Calling Sabrina’s name, he gestures for her to go back inside. She tosses another glance my way before heading toward our boss, who watches me with anxiety etched on his face.

A strong hand reaches out, grasping my arm, and impatiently tugs me closer to the SUV. My gaze collides with Santiago’s dark, steely one.

“Get in.”

I jerk my arm from his grip, which has his expression growing positively arctic. A scowl descends over his handsome but harsh features.

He slides over to grant me a seat when I grip the handle along the inside of the door to heft myself up and inside. Slamming the door gives me a short-lived satisfaction, so I pin him with a scathing look. “Why are you interrupting my workday?”

Gordo’s behind the wheel with Henchman Assistant riding in the passenger seat. He takes off, making quick work of the rough terrain. I brace a hand against the seat in front of me so I don’t get jostled into the lap of the bastard beside me.

Santiago appears unbothered by my caustic tone. “I currently need you more than Aarón does.”

“Oh, really?” My response is sodden with doubt intertwined with heavy sarcasm. “So, you need your house cleaned?”

He lifts his chin, his tone filled with challenging arrogance. “What if I do?”

An exasperated breath rushes past my lips as I slump against the seat and stare out the window. “I’m being stalked and kidnapped now. Super.”

A grunt is all I get in response as Gordo turns onto a road with a sign signifying it’s private property. When we approach an imposingly large metal gate with a keypad beside it, Gordo punches in the code, and we wait for it to open.

With ease, he navigates the SUV along the narrow, unpaved switchback road. The gravel path weaves through part of the jungle on one side, the mountains bordering another, while the Pacific coast is at our backs.

When the massive, isolated white structure comes into view, my stomach wrenches itself in a painful knot.

Barbed wire lines the circumference of the compound’s concrete wall, serving as a border between the property and the surrounding jungle.

Armed men are stationed every few meters, dressed in black from head to toe. As we pull up to what I assume is the entrance to the main section, the oversized wooden doors draw open, and someone emerges from inside.

My lungs burn, reminding me that I’ve stopped breathing. I struggle to loosen my fingers from their punishing hold of the seat in front of me.

“I’m sure you remember my nephew from the other day.” Santiago offers this smoothly, as though we’re due to meet a respectable human instead of a cold-blooded murderer.

Ice floods my veins at the presence of the younger man. He strolls out as if he expects every creature in the world to bow down to him and give thanks for his mere presence.

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