Chapter 38: The Bomb

Orely

My moans echo through the shower cubicle, like those of a child overwhelmed by deep sorrow. He has probably heard me crying, but I don't care. I see a look of disgust and annoyance on his face, an unusual expression for him I suppose.

"Here are some clothes you can wear, and when you are ready, join me in the living room. There are some things I need to explain to you. There is ice cream in the freezer that I had bought earlier, so if you want some, feel free to help yourself."

Despite the inconvenience, he thinks of everything and always shows this delicate attention towards me. I nod, and my tears start flowing again. I have probably never cried as much in my life as I have in these last few days, even during Diego's death. That said, I have never been confronted with such a harrowing situation. Before he leaves the room, he wraps me in his muscular arms and places a hand gently on my head.

"I am sorry. You should never have gone through even a fraction of this."

With this tender gesture, my emotions rise and my sobs intensify until my tears soak his chest. It is when my tears subside, feeling soothed, that he pulls away from me.

"Get dressed so you don't catch a cold. I will be in the living room." he said as we left the room.

I obey and put on a pair of joggings along with an oversized jacket that almost completely covers my hands to make me feel comfortable, then I leave the bedroom. Arriving in the living room, he stands near the large bay window, a glass of whiskey in hand, gazing outside. As my silhouette appears on the glass, he turns and approaches me. We sit on the couch and a heavy silence hangs in the air. Santiago keeps staring at his glass while I look at him for a long time.

Right now, I am feeling a storm of anger and curiosity. My anger is born of the shock of learning that the person I see before me is the one who saved me from such grave danger. I can feel an inner frustration, wondering why he hid this truth from me, questioning his true motives.

Curiosity, on the other hand, is awakened as I try to understand what led me to discover this double identity, to decipher the reasons behind his actions. This inner storm, between anger and curiosity, creates a tumult of feelings in me that pushes her to question everything I thought I knew. I wonder if I can still trust him, or if everything he is experienced so far was just a mask. My mind engages in a battle between the desire to understand the truth and the fear of what I might discover, leaving me suspended in painful uncertainty but also full of questions to explore.

"How did you find me?" I begin.

"By my men. They were watching you for a while."

He lets out a deep sigh before continuing.

"I was warned that a group of individuals was going to attack a young couple, but I didn't know it concerned you. As I watched the scene in the distance from my car and saw you running away, I knew you were in danger," he explains.

"So it was after you had learned that your father was behind all this?" I claim.

"I suspected it because he has always been interested in your land, and I don't know why. But I will find out."

"And my kidnapping? What tipped you off?" I interrogate.

"At first it was your mother who called to inform me that you'd been kidnapped, then we continued our investigations. We captured a man who works for them and questioned him. He said it was just to scare you and then you would be released." He continues.

I would rather not ask how they got him to talk. After all I have been through in the last few days, I doubt this information will improve my psychological state.

"So this man revealed the identity of my kidnappers, right?" I questioned.

"Yes. He confirmed my suspicions and was a great help in telling us where you were being held. Once we had that information, we came up with a plan. We wanted to take them by surprise."

"And didn’t you think that, I don’t know, they could have made me disappear?"

"I know these people well, and they would not have eliminated you so easily to avoid raising suspicions with the authorities about your lands. They are only interested in money and the value of properties. It is a risky gamble, but we have done our best in this situation. It also gave us an advantage in our attack. No one expected to see guys claiming that they don't care about you to show up. You know what happened next, you have been there, you live it," Santiago replies.

I take a moment to assimilate and analyze all this. I think silently, ordering my thoughts to prepare the next questions I am going to ask him, measuring my words.

He seemed determined to talk to me, but I was always afraid he would change his mind and keep his secrets. I could not bear that after everything that had happened to me. I deserve to know the truth.

"So these men are part of the Mafia?"

"Exactly. Some of the people who kidnapped you are no longer there, and even though we are in the same network, there are still rivalries within the group, and betrayal. After buying up several warehouses in the port and opening this new hotel, well, the second one, most of them take a very dim view of this and are stepping up their attacks," he tells me nonchalantly, despite the seriousness of the subject.

"Your 'group' or 'team' isn't really a conglomerate, is it?" I advance, staring at him determined to find out more.

"Without looking at me, Santiago nods and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, interlacing his hands. He takes a deep breath before dropping the bomb."

"It is just a front, a cover that allows us to hide and launder money without being bothered by law enforcement. Business management has never been my strong point, even if it is not too bad. I was forced to study accountancy to become a chartered accountant when I was younger, in order to bring the business to fruition. But we are more into organized crime, and the reason we are having so many problems is that I have recently become the godfather of the Italian Mafia, secretly associating with them. My father is unaware of all this. The aim is to be more powerful than him, to better control him. It is more a personal matter between father and son." He says.