Page 9 of Stolen By the Enemy

There’s no big, scary family members or security guards to protect her now.

I think about how her life must be, in the middle of danger all the time, but never really having to deal with it because of the protection around her.

We touchdown in Mexico, I untie Grazia’s legs and carry her out to my waiting car, which I had left at the airstrip when we boarded the plane for America.

So far, things are working out even better than I had expected.

I lay Grazia down across the back seat and lock her in the car, getting into the front and placing my gun on the passenger seat, just in case she wakes up mid-journey and tries anything stupid.

I hate the idea of having a driver to take me places, even though Carlos keeps telling me he’s happy to lend me his guy.

I can drive my own fucking car, and I like the independence of being able to get into my car and go places whenever I feel like it.

I’m taking Grazia to the tiny house I own on the beach. On the drive, I call my team and ask them to open up the house.

My beach house is smaller than the mansion that Carlos lives in, and a third of the size of the Baldini’s place. But it’s designed perfectly for me.

It’s also right on the beach, which is what I like the best.

I had it decorated and kitted out so that it’s both rustic and modern, and the security here would hold up against a full apocalypse if it needed to.

From the outside, it looks like a simple home, open to the elements and understated. But inside, there are cameras, a remote security system, and weapons hidden in every room—although I don’t have to worry about those with Grazia, since she’d need my safe codes to get to them.

It’s not the place I spend most of my time, but I come here to think and sometimes bring girls here instead of taking them home.

Usually, I don’t have to drug and threaten them with a weapon, though.

Grazia is still asleep but breathing steadily. Now I know she’s a lightweight, duly noted.

I carefully move her out of the back seat and again carry her all the way to the only bedroom in the house.

I bring her bags in and then leave her some water next to the bed, putting fruit and other snacks on the kitchen counter, all before locking the front door as I head to my own home.

I’m twenty minutes away from the beach house, which is close enough to get there quickly if I need to, but far away enough that the second house is unlikely to be found by any of my enemies.

The house I live in is not massive either, but it’s where I can be by myself and enjoy my own company.

Carlos has always welcomed me into his home, and even offered me a room there for myself, but it’s too busy and loud for me.

After I lost my parents while I was still a child, Carlos’ family took me in, and I lived with them for many years, until I was old enough to buy this house.

While I am beyond grateful for their generosity, their home never felt like it was mine.

Now I spend my days with Carlos and his family, and then escape to my sanctuary as soon as the working day ends.

It’s the perfect setup until I can work completely for myself.

Walking into my quiet house, I go right into my small office and sit down at my desk. There is plenty of work to do.

I open my laptop and start to type up my demands to the Baldinis.

It’s simple, really.

All I want is for them to hand over certain trade routes to me. That way, all of the product that Carlos is pushing their way, will go through my routes, and that money will be owed to me.

I have picked out the routes that I already know will be the most profitable. I don’t need them giving me their leftovers.

It's not like I don’t deserve this. They have the routes because they stole them from some other poor fuckers, so now I am taking them for myself.

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