Page 28 of The Mobster's Hostage

“You’ve stolen them.”

Gerardo lets out an audible growl and sharply turns around, walking to the young man close behind him. The two are slightly similar in appearance, so I assume they’re relatives. They talk to each other in low voices, and after the young man pats his shoulder, Gerardo turns back to me with a grim frown.

Shit. I haven’t gone too far, have I?

“Is that all you want?”

I barely keep the sigh of relief from showing and nod. “That’s all.”

Gerardo huffs out loud and waves his hand, poorly trying to look unaffected. “Fine. You can have them. They’re nothing but garbage anyway.”

Wait, is that it? A wave of warmth spreads in the middle of my chest as I look at the Mexicans’ grimaces. Did I win?

“Jacinta, come here. We’re going home.”

My heart drops, and any signs of relief are immediately washed away by a wave of panic. Shit. Shit. I almost forgot what it means to end the negotiations here. I turn to look at Jacinta, frantically thinking of a way to make it last longer, to not give her away, not yet.

But Jacinta doesn’t look at me. Her intense gaze is focused on Gerardo, and the harsh look on her face promises nothing good. Oh wait, I didn’t think that—

“No.” Her voice trembles slightly but not from fear. The anger at her whole life is coming from within, and Jacinta tightens her fists and raises her voice into yelling, “I’m not coming with you. I’m sick and tired of living like a fucking doll! I don’t want to be your prisoner anymore, I want to have my own life!”

“Ah, aren’t you tired of it, Jacinta? Don’t you see where your ‘adult life’ has brought you?” Gerardo chuckles all of a sudden, and I feel something in my chest itch with disgust as I turn to him. He’s looking at Jacinta with that condescending smile that I always hated on my father’s face. “You’re only eighteen, you don’t know how to live your own life. You need protection—now more than ever—so stop this nonsense and come here. Emilio and I have been waiting for you.”

“Yes, Jacinta.” The young man next to him smiles like a shark ready for prey. “Let’s go home.”

“No, never! I—”

But Louis’ gun shuts Jacinta up before she says anything else. I don’t know at what point he came closer to her, but now Louis is right next to Jacinta, prodding her forward with his gun and saying something into her ear. Her face pales, and she tries to step back, but Louis forces her to step forward and presses his gun to her back.

That goddamn bastard.

I clench my fists and look at Gerardo, but unlike last time, he doesn’t seem to mind. He only looks at Jacinta with a patient smile as if waiting for a child to find its way back into his arms. God, he’s really a psycho. How am I supposed to give Jacinta back to him?

How am I supposed to let go of the only woman I truly love?

I look at Jacinta, and something in my chest clenches so tightly it hurts. Her face is pale, and her eyes are full of terror and hatred as she looks at Gerardo. But Louis has no mercy for her, still holding his gun, so Jacinta steps forward and looks at me, and I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from doing something stupid.

God, I hate this. I hate forcing her to leave and go back to the life she almost escaped—but at least she will be alive and protected in her golden cage. Apparently, I can’t even keep her safe from my own family. How could I ask her to stay?

Finally, Jacinta seems to gain her usual confidence, hiding the weakness of her fear deeper inside. Her steps are still slow, but the look in her eyes turns cold and determined as she looks at her father. Jacinta doesn’t even look at me as she walks forward, and for some reason, it makes the ache in my chest even stronger. Does she hate me now? Does she despise me?

The thought is painful, but I know I deserve it. I’ve been a stupid asshole since the first time we met. Jacinta deserves someone better.

But while the gloomy thoughts take over my mind, I don’t realize that, on her way to Gerardo, Jacinta stops next to me. Everyone around us goes silent, probably expecting her to do something dangerous, but I know she won’t. When I look her in the eyes, I see that she doesn’t want to hurt me or get her revenge.

Her eyes are full of feelings we’ve never said out loud, and now it’s too late to say anything.

I don’t even realize that I’m holding my breath, expecting Jacinta to speak, but she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs my hand, and I can feel something in her hold. Something that she passes into my palm and squeezes it, silently asking me to take the thing instead. What is it?

The shape feels weird, but I do take it with a frown, hiding it from the others’ eyes. Whatever it is, Jacinta clearly doesn’t want others to know about it.

“What’s taking you so long?” the young man Gerardo called Emilio raises his voice with a displeased note and crosses his arms. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on an Italian.”

“Jesus, Emilio, what are you saying?” Gerardo huffs, sounding disturbed, but Jacinta says nothing. She only holds my gaze for a moment longer and smiles sadly before walking away.

I hear Gerardo exclaim something in excitement, the Italians and Mexicans around us breathe out in relief, and everyone seems to be pretty content with the deal—except for me and Jacinta. I can’t look at her being taken by the monster that her father is, so I lower my gaze and clench my fists. It feels like someone is piercing my chest with a knife, and I—

Wait. I frown, feeling the thin object in my hand, and raise my palm. What is it that Jacinta wanted to leave behind?

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