Page 60 of Stolen By the Enemy

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“Buenos días,” Marco greets me cheerfully from the terrace, where I meet him, carrying my coffee that was shoved into my hands by the very sweet, but very serious housekeeper.

It’s colder today, and it looks like it might rain, even though the sun has come out between the clouds.

I wouldn’t mind some wet weather to match the damp coldness inside my mind.

“Buongiorno,” I say, squinting my eyes at the bright light compared to the dark house.

I sit down and look at the food on the table.

It’s untouched, which makes me think that Marco had it made and laid out for me.

The spread of what looks like an omelette, salsa, avocado slices, and a type of bread, looks lovely.

However, my appetite just isn’t showing up this morning. I take tiny bites of what I can, and then give up and finish my coffee instead.

This house is just as peaceful as the beach house, and there are people coming in and out constantly.

I wonder if Marco was the one who decorated this house, because the style is very homey, which is so far from what I would have expected from a Mexican cartel bachelor.

The more I see this side of Marco, the more I believe we really could have had a real friendship—maybe something more—if this whole kidnapping situation hadn’t gotten in the way.

“I need to take you back.” Marco’s abrupt statement shocks me, my mind forgetting about the food completely.

Does he mean back to the US? Has he given up on his plan?

I did wonder for a second last night if Luca pulling out of the deal meant that Marco would finally follow through on his threats to kill me.

I don’t say anything, so he continues, “I don’t know exactly what is going to happen with the deal, but I do know that it is better for you to be at the beach house. We will leave after lunch, I have some work to do before then.”

My stomach sinks. The beach house is not where I want to be right now.

Even though I felt a small bit of sadness when I thought I was leaving for good, this house seems like a much better place for me right now.

It’s been so good to be out, have more freedom, and be able to interact with real human beings.

The thought of going back and being locked up makes my chest hurt.

“Do…do I have to?” I ask him, already knowing the answer, but wanting to at least try and hold onto some of the freedom I’ve been given.

“Could I not just hide away here? It looks like there are plenty of guards in this house, and I swear I won’t try to escape. The beach house is just so quiet and lonely…”

Marco shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Grazia, but that won’t work. Too many people know this location. If your brothers have stayed in Mexico and they’re thinking about some sort of rescue mission, this is where they will come.”

I sigh, giving up the fight.

If Marco has made up his mind that the beach house is where he’s going to keep me, then I have no choice but to go.

The rest of my morning goes by in a blur. I don’t leave my room much, and I skip lunch entirely.

The housekeeper tries to come and fetch me, but I pretend I’m asleep.

By the time Marco shows up to take me away, I feel like I’m no longer fully present anyway.

***

Back at the beach house, Marco moves around getting the place comfy for me while I stare out the window in a daze.

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