I swiped my index finger through the remnants of honey on my plate. “Rules?”
“If that’s what you want to call them.”
“You already told me the first one—don’t die.”
He slid his chair from the table and sat. “Be kind and courteous to the staff. It’s not their fault you’re here, and they just want to make you comfortable—that includes Jaz.”
“I have no problem with Jaz.” I drew a sad face on my plate, then sucked honey off my finger. “She has a problem with me.”
“She’s . . . protective.”
I didn’t miss the way he stared at my mouth or momentarily lost his words. This was what Diego had meant by redirecting Cristiano’s attention where I wanted it to go. “Protective of . . .?” I asked softly.
He inhaled and looked away—which made it hard to mesmerize him into spilling his secrets. “Of me. And herself. She wants to be here, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Gratitude.” He dipped his head, his eyes darkening. “And, of course, reparations.”
A sense of unease worked its way through me. Was Jaz indebted to him somehow? Or he to her?
“Courteousness should be obvious,” he said, “as should this—you’re to stay on the property.”
“Are these just the rules while you’re gone?” I asked.
“They’re the rules until I say they’re not.”
“So I’m confined to this house for my foreseeable future?”
“Correct. There’s plenty to keep you occupied here.”
“Such as?” I asked.
“There’s a game room, movie theater, gym. Just let one of the staff know what you want to eat. If we don’t have it, they’ll procure it.”
Hanging out with a staff who was paid to be here didn’t appeal to me. I missed my friends. It felt strange to wonder about companionship when the day before, I wasn’t even sure I’d have a proper bed or a warm meal.
He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. “Anything a girl could ask for, and I suspect it’s still not enough. We also grow fruit, vegetables, and flowers out back if that interests you.”
“My mother liked to garden,” I said, but of course, he’d know that. I’d never tended my own, but I’d helped as a kid, and it’d been a long time since I’d sunk my hands in fresh soil. “That’s something, I guess.”
“Landscapers maintain it, but you can help as long as you stay between there and the house.”
“Who will I talk to?”
He winked. “You can always call me.”
“I don’t even want to talk to you when you’re here.”
“No?” He gestured away from the table. “You’re free to go up to our room.”
Our room. He was mocking me. I stood, and he eyed me as if he knew my next move before I did. Perhaps he did. He’d called my bluff. Cristiano’s company wasn’t ideal, but it was preferable to being alone. The more time we spent together, the more likely he was to open up. Learning as much as I could about him and this place could only be valuable. Somewhere, somehow, I was going to figure out how to pull the pin that would implode this cartel like a grenade—or at least its leader.
Cristiano had spent an entire day with me when he surely had better things to do, and I couldn’t fathom that would happen very often, so I had to seize what time I had.
I sat back down. “Arguing with you is more stimulating than staring at a wall,” I reasoned. “Barely.”
“Every day, you’ll continue learning self-defense,” he said, resuming our conversation. “That should keep you busy.” He ran his tongue along his front teeth and added, “But I suppose I could also arrange to have one of your professors brought here if you’d like.”
My jaw dropped. I could never forget for a moment the all-powerful reach of a kingpin in this world. “Oh my God. You can’t just keep . . . taking people,” I said, blinking rapidly. “Especially not an American professor. It’s not right—it’s unfathomable.”
He set his elbow on the table and massaged his jaw. “I—”
“People have lives and families and—and dreams and goals.” A fleeting vision crossed through my mind—palm trees in the wind, coolers of beer on the California beach with my friends, even all-nighters at the library before finals. And that all had amounted to what? The same life I’d had as a child. Occupying myself in a big house while keeping one eye over my shoulder. Losing all that was bad enough. Now, I was putting others at risk? “That professor could be a mother or father. Do you have any idea the uproar—”
“For Christ’s sake, Natalia.” He sighed heavily, dropping his face into his hands. “I didn’t mean I’d kidnap him. I’d make him an offer to come and teach you.” He glanced up. “I’d pay him. A far superior salary to what he currently makes. At least double—whatever it took.”