Pretty Hostage - Page 95

Almost.

I’d also witnessed him having a lot of bloody fun at Ronaldo’s estate. Another nightmare scene I was glad I’d hidden from Sofia.

She stirred in my arms as I shifted her, so I could get us both out of the SUV and into the house.

“We’re home, dulzura,” I murmured, shutting the front door behind us.

She reached up to remove the blindfold.

“No.”

She responded instantly to my stern tone, her hand dropping to my chest instead.

I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Good girl. I want to get us both cleaned up before we take that off.”

“Okay,” she agreed, turning her cheek into my bloodstained shirt. “Mateo?” she asked, hesitant. “Is Daddy… Is he safe?”

My arms stiffened around her, my anger at the mention of her father reflexive. I took a breath and forced myself to relax. She didn’t need my anger right now.

“Caesar survived,” I informed her. “Adrián is going to allow him to live in exile.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he won’t be in LA. He is no longer part of our organization, or any other like it. Where he ends up is his choice, as long as Adrián approves. He and your mother will be fine.”

She was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. “That’s good,” she finally said. “I know Adrián didn’t have to do that. And I…I don’t want to see Daddy anytime soon, anyway.”

“You never have to see him again, if you don’t want to,” I promised her.

I would prefer it that way, but she would have to work through this in her own time. It might take a few years for her to fully accept that Caesar was a fuck up of a father, but I wouldn’t force that realization on her. My delicate little flower had suffered enough anguish on that motherfucker’s account. I wouldn’t allow him to inflict any more pain on her life, directly or indirectly.

We arrived in our master bathroom, and I carefully set her down onto her feet, holding her steady while I turned on the shower with one hand. As the water warmed, I gave her hip a little squeeze before releasing her.

“I’m getting rid of these clothes,” I told her. “I’ll burn them later, but for now, they’re going in the laundry hamper. Don’t look in there under any circumstances until I tell you it’s been handled. Are we clear?”

“Clear,” she agreed easily.

Sofia didn’t want to see the evidence of her bloody ordeal, either. She’d chosen to be mine, and that meant she knew she was choosing a life in which the man she loved hurt people.

Sofia understood where I came from and why I lived this life. Even though she didn’t like it, she accepted me for who I was.

That didn’t mean she wanted to see all the gory evidence.

I quickly stripped out of my ruined clothes, tossing them in the laundry hamper to hide them from Sofia’s sight.

Once I was naked, I unwound the white sheet I’d wrapped her in when I’d taken her from Ronaldo’s estate. She still wore her white lace bra and panty set underneath. The lingerie was pure, completely untouched by a single drop of blood.

I removed the garments carefully, setting them on the sink counter. Later, I would fuck her while she wore them, re-staking my claim over what Ronaldo had tried to take from me.

Steam billowed from the shower stall by the time we were both bare. I grasped her waist and guided her into the spray, which cascaded from four separate showerheads. The cloth around her eyes soaked up water, but she didn’t try to remove it. My good girl waited for me to finish a quick scrub-down of my body.

The soap suds on my hands turned pink, and I didn’t stop scrubbing until the water circling the drain ran clear.

“I’m going to take off the blindfold now,” I told her as I tugged at the knot.

I peeled the sodden cloth from her face and tossed it aside, so I could capture her face in both my hands and look into her eyes when she finally opened them.

She squinted and blinked, taking time to adjust to the light. When her emerald eyes focused on me, my lungs started working properly for the first time since I’d realized she’d been taken from me.

“Florecita,” I sighed, rubbing my thumb over her petal-soft lips. “I was so worried about you.”

Her lower lip quivered beneath my touch. “I was too,” she whispered. “Is Ronaldo…”

“You don’t have to worry about Ronaldo ever again,” I promised, stroking her trembling body. “All of that is over now. Adrián still controls the Rodríguez Cartel’s American territory, and your father is in exile. No one will ever threaten you again, Sofia. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will.” She leaned into me. “Does this mean I’m not your hostage anymore?”

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