“But will you show me where the cameras are?” she asked, twisting the bathing suit through her hands. “I mean, if you even know. If you want. It makes me anxious to think I’m being watched.”
I went back and kissed her cheek. “Of course,” I said soothingly. “Don’t be anxious. I’m the one he wants, not you.”
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she said.
“I know, neither can I most days,” I said as I left to give her privacy.
I had to admit, though—I was getting used to things. Cristiano had been gone almost a week, and I’d even been bored enough to miss him in a way—or at least his stimulating conversation. With him gone, what I looked forward to the most were the self-defense lessons I did once or twice a day. Solomon wasn’t as afraid to get physical with me as Alejandro was, and he was more patient than my brutish husband. I could already feel my body getting stronger in small ways.
When Pilar came out of the closet, she took modesty to a whole new level. To go down to the pool, she’d pulled on drawstring pants and a navy cotton shirt with sleeves long enough to hide her hands. Since I could make out the shape of a swimsuit underneath, I didn’t question her.
Downstairs, I walked her to the patio and down to the sparkling infinity pool set amongst the jungle and overlooking the ocean. I’d been spending my days there, too, since Cristiano had left. Even during intermittent showers, I’d sit under an umbrella with a book.
I almost felt a sense of pride as Pilar lifted her sleeved hands to her mouth and gasped, “Wow.”
Navy-and-white striped lounge chairs and matching cabanas surrounded the pool with a swim-up bar. It sat at the edge of the world, facing the ocean. The thing that got me was that I couldn’t imagine a single person in this house using the pool, least of all its master.
As I stripped down and tossed my cover-up on a chair, one of the staff who helped Jaz on occasion approached us with large, sweating glasses of water. “Would you and your friend like lunch, señora?” she asked.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Pilar.
Her face seemed set in a permanent expression of shock. “I guess?”
“Tell the chef to surprise us,” I said.
“There’s a chef?” Pilar whispered as the woman walked away.
“More than one.” I set my water on a side table. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Pilar removed her pants and perched on the edge of a chair cushion.
“Don’t sit,” I said. “Let’s cool off in the pool.”
“I can’t swim,” she said.
I furrowed my brows. “You’ve been in the pool at my house.”
“I stayed in the shallow part, and there were always people around. I knew I’d be safe.”
“There are people around now,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her up. “Come on. We’ll just go in to our waists. I shouldn’t get my tattoo wet anyway.”
“You have a tattoo?”
“Like I said, I’ve got a lot to share. Let’s—”
She stopped, leaning back with all of her body weight. “Wait. Natalia—”
“What?” She wasn’t afraid of water. We’d swum at my house and had been to the coast lots of times. I shielded my eyes and located Alejandro, standing—and most likely sweating—between the pool and patio. “As you can see, Alejandro is our shadow today.” I called to him. “Can you swim, Alejo?”
“Sí.”
“There. See?” I told Pilar. “I promise, he won’t let you drown.”
“I’ve gained weight, and I’m self-conscious.”
“You haven’t gained a kilo since I’ve known you.” I crossed my arms. “What’s the matter?”
She hesitated, her posture wilting. “Nothing,” she said and turned her back to peel off her shirt, revealing bruises up and down her arms and sides.
I gasped. “Pila. What . . .?”
“Please,” she said softly, taking my hands. “Don’t make a thing of this. They don’t really hurt.”
Anger burned through me, turning my vision spotted. No wonder she’d been trembling when she’d arrived. I whirled around, charging toward Alejandro. “You fucking asshole,” I said.
Alejandro drew back, his eyebrows cinched. “¿Qué?”
“When I tell Cristiano about this, he’ll skin you alive. And if he doesn’t, my father will.”
“What are you talking—”
“Natalia,” Pilar called, her footsteps shuffling after me.
Alejandro’s gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his brows dropped. “Are those bruises? Hijo de la chingada,” he cursed. “I didn’t do that, Natalia. I would never—I told you about my history.”
As soon as he said it, I stopped short, knowing it was true. I started to apologize when the actual truth hit me. My scalp prickled, and I turned back to Pilar. “Manu did this?”
“The fiancé,” Alejandro said through gritted teeth, staring daggers at the marks on her arm.
“Has this happened before?” I asked Pilar.
Absentmindedly, she scratched her shoulder. “It looks worse than it is.”
She was uncomfortable with Alejandro here. He raised his eyes to meet mine, and a current of anger passed between us. I was so furious, I didn’t even know what to say. Pilar had been promised to Manu for months by her parents, and they wouldn’t hear her protests.