Chapter 30
Gunpowder smelled faintly in the air. It wasn't enough to choke on, but enough to remind me of what had happened here. Doña Esperanza had received security intel when the intruders were captured. Then she made her way to the drawing room just in time to take Carlitos and Serena before Alice and I walked in.
After the whole affair, Alice's limp body had been carried away by three of the intruders who had broken in. I instructed that the remaining three be taken to where Lucy could pry out information. Nothing.
I eventually gave Lucy permission to finish them off. That was to serve as a warning to that Fernando bastard. I seethed. My fist clenched.
Fernando had always proven to be a pain in the neck for a very long time. I stood at the center of the drawing room. My hands rested behind my back, and my gaze moved slowly across the space.
The glass had been cleared. The blood wiped clean. The floor swept and mopped after the bodies had been moved. The room was almost restored to its initial state. Efficient, but not perfect. Nothing ever was.
Ramírez. Diego Ramírez.
I'd allowed Alice to be taken to achieve killing two birds with one stone: to find out Fernando's hideout, because I'd instructed Lucy to place a tracker on Alice. And secondly, out of curiosity, I'd wanted to see how Fernando's script with Alice turned out.
Fernando had always been a coward. He'd sabotaged some of my businesses he was in competition with. He'd attacked and assaulted my warehouses a number of times. He'd eventually taken my ex-wife with his words and fake affections.
On my part, I'd let her go. She'd been the one to initiate a divorce, after all—one she hadn't deemed fit to see through after her disappearance of two years or so. I shook my head in utter disappointment.
The sound of someone clearing his throat brought me back to consciousness. I turned from my empty stare to look into the eyes of my head of security, James.
James was an older man who had worked with the government's secret agency during his youth. In doing so, he had acquired a variety of skills. However, during one of his missions, he was badly injured.
He fell into a long coma and was retired. To save him from being silenced, my dad cajoled me into employing him. I haven't rejected this arrangement ever since.
"They came into the East Wing, sir," James reported. His voice was steady and cautious, and his eyes didn't waver. "Security responded immediately when the threat was perceived, and we contained it within minutes."
Contained. I let the word sit in my mind for a moment.
Six intruders broke into my house. All armed. They had thoroughly prepared everything because they were looking for someone.
"And yet they managed to make it upstairs," I asked quietly. James stiffened. I noticed his embarrassment as he answered, "Yes, sir."
An ensuing silence followed. None of us moved. We didn't dare to. Unspoken thoughts hung in the air. Finally, the older man overcame his embarrassment and spoke up.
"Why, sir? What will Fernando Alcázar want with Alice? I'm asking for security reasons, sir. You must understand."
"Why Alice?" I mused openly.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
I pondered the question. In theory, I knew the answer. The intruders hadn't been sent after my children. Fernando was a greedy bastard, but he hadn't sent them after my money. They had come with a purpose. And purpose always had a source.
James awaited a response.
"She's useful," I answered simply.
"And you permitted her to be taken off the premises?" the curiosity quipped in his voice.
"I just wanted to find Fernando's hideout," I answered coolly.
"I'd say so, sir. Would that be all?" he inquired.
"That would be all," I answered.
He made a bow and walked out of the room.
Alice Ramírez.
The name settled in my mind like a piece that didn't quite fit. And yet it couldn't be ignored. A simple, quiet maid. Efficient, though, and diligent in her work.
Fernando, usually a coward, sent six men to break into my house just to get her. My house. I'd watched her ever since she had outrightly violated direct instructions to stay away from my East Wing study.
She'd proved herself competent and diligent. Had she always been a spy? How could I have missed anything? I phoned Lucy.
"Hello, Big Gun," Lucy answered in giddy excitement.
"All done?" I inquired.
"All done, Boss. But Sergio wouldn't allow me to go further with the bodies," Lucy pouted.
"And then mess up everywhere? No fucking way," Sergio grumbled audibly from somewhere.
"I'll clean it up. You know I will," Lucy answered him.
"No…fucking….way," Sergio grunted impatiently.
"Okay. I just wanted to check in. And be wary of Alice when she sets foot back into the estate. Any rumors about her, you report back to me," I said the last bit as a nudge to Nina, the gossip, Lucy's roommate.
"But why do we really have to be wary of her again?" she sighed exasperatedly.
"I thought you had been convinced of her innocence the day her chubby friend and brother came for a visit," Lucy mused in confusion.
Lucy had a soft spot for Alice, which was something.
"I have cause to ignite my suspicions," I simply replied.
"If she's such a big inconvenience, just silence her and get it over with," Lucy suggested.
"Will you do the honors?" I asked testingly while I walked out of the drawing room to the parlor. A silence ensued.
While I walked to the parlor, I took notice of the handful of servants that were cleaning up the aftermath of the break-in.
I allowed the ensuing silence to stretch out a little longer.
"I thought as much," I finally said. I interpreted her silence as a rejection of harming Alice. "That would be all for now," I said and clicked off.
Quiet footsteps echoed before I neared the parlor. I stopped and listened to them for a while. The soft footsteps sounded hesitant. Soon enough, the footsteps rounded the corner of the hallway, and I came face to face with her.
Disheveled. Late.
She carefully moved forward, then stopped. There was a certain stiffness about her, as if her body hadn't caught up with wherever she'd been. My gaze swept over her once, noticing and cataloguing.
There was a swell at the side of her face and dried blood on her nose. Her posture was off, and her breathing was uneven.
"What happened to your face?" I asked her. A smell unlike her wafted to me. She looked away shyly and said, "I'll have to ask Lucy about that."
"You're late," I said. She stilled for a second before she straightened. "I… there was…," she stopped herself. I noticed as she steadied her nerves.
"He kept me back," she said and paused.
I let the pause stretch so she could not only hear it but feel it as well. "Oh really? He kept you back? For what? To swear an oath of allegiance?" I asked calmly. Her jaw tightened. "Why would he do that?"
"Why, Alice? You ask me why. A street thug attacked my house and my estate because he wanted you. So you better start talking."
She flinched.
"He wanted to talk," she excused lamely.
"Just talk? What did you guys talk about?" I asked.
"He wanted to ask about… about… my father," her voice faltered.
That was it. She was lying. It wasn't clean enough or confident enough. I stepped slowly forward with measured steps. Her eyes flicked for a second. Fear. Good.
"A street thug like Fernando doesn't just attack a man of my status unless he's said his last prayers." As I said this, her breath hitched. "So I'll ask again," I continued, stopping just close enough to invade her space without touching her.
"What did you guys talk about?"
"I've told you. About my father," she finally said with a steadier voice than it had any right to be. I studied her carefully. Her story was weak.
"And you expect me to believe that?" I asked.
There was a shift in her expression. It wasn't fear. No, not submission. It was something sharper. "You can believe whatever you want," she said quietly.
The room went interestingly still.
After everything that had happened in the last couple of hours, she was defiant. The break-in. Her roughened-up state. She stood there, looked at me, and refused to bend.
It was a dangerous trait that needed to be corrected. Or controlled.
I stepped back. Not because I was done. Far from it. For the moment, I'd seen enough.
"You won't be tending to my kids."
To that, she reacted with widened eyes. "No, don't—" "That's enough."
"You don't leave the house," I continued. "You don't go anywhere or invite anyone without my permission."
Her clenched hands by her sides were the reaction I got. I locked my gaze with hers and completed my instructions. Quiet. Cold. Deliberate.
"And until I decide otherwise, you stay where I can see you until I decide what you really are."