Page 20 of Stealing His Christmas Present

I spotted Pablo, and a smile instantly appeared on my face.

He was holding two sandwiches, and he handed one to me. “You’re going to love it.”

I watched him as I took a bite. My eyes widened.

Oh, my god. It was delicious.

“It’s amazing!” I said before taking another bite.

“Let’s go sit on that bench over there,” Pablo said.

“Sure.”

I was yanked out of the memory as my stomach rumbled and brought back to the present. If only I had one of those sandwiches here right now, but this Pablo didn’t care if I was hungry.

Had he been faking the whole thing? Had he even had to try hard to pretend, or had I been so blind not to see him for who he truly was?

Since he was the boss now, and it wasn’t like I’d done anything to him, then this had to be about my family. Either he wanted to strike a deal or there was something else he was trying to achieve.

I had to find out what it was.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as the lights became brighter. I squinted.

Pablo appeared on the other side of the bars, his jaw set, his dark eyes angry. Either he was pissed off about something or this was his real face.

“You’re not allowed to move anything in this cell,” he said. “Return the cot back to its place. Now.”

I got to my feet, crossing my arms and glaring at him. “No.”

“Do it right now, or there will be consequences. I’m not playing, Claudia.”

“You clearly need me for something. What are you going to do, huh?” I lifted my chin.

“Oh, there are plenty of things I can do to you if you disobey me.”

“Like what?”

“Return the cot to its place, or I’ll spank you.”

My lips parted, a strange shudder rushing through me.

Even from a distance, I could see the excited gleam in his eyes.

“You’re sick,” I said, returning the cot back to where it was. “Do you think I didn’t see the camera?”

“You’re my prisoner. I decide what you do, or what you can or can’t have.” He stepped closer to the bars. “I own you.”

“No, you don’t.” I didn’t want to give him exactly what he wanted, but he was seriously pissing me off.

What the hell was wrong with him? Was he playing mind games with me?

I took off my shoe and started toward the camera.

“If you do that, you’re definitely getting punished,” he said. “And you won’t like it.”

I hurled my shoe at the camera with all the strength I still had left. The camera fell to the floor, smashing into pieces.

I flashed him a smile.

---