Chapter 41: The Anger

Orely

"I don't know, but put your men around my house or a vehicle to keep watch, but there is no need to set up together.

"For your information, I had already done so. The perimeter of your house had been surrounded by my men for days, otherwise how would I know you would have been the victim of another attempt?"

"Then find another solution," I growl.

"That is the solution, my darling, and it is temporary. The situation is quite complicated at this stage and I have done my best not to let anything happen to you. Ideally, you would like to come and live in my hotel.

"Not a chance! Don't even think about it, and I am not your darling!"

"I knew you were going to react like that." He said, looking at me with a mocking smile on his lips.

"The state I am in is quite painful, I don't need any more upheaval on top of that."

I miss my home. It is the only place where I have been able to feel at ease since my early childhood and after Diego's departure for good. The events that have happened to me are completely confusing, I needed a usual place of comfort, and my home represents that entirely.

"You are not helping me much. Would you rather have my two loyal lieutenants stay here instead of me or one of my men?"

I think he might be talking about the two guys who came to my place last time, delivering the gifts regarding the opening day of the casino-hotel.

"And don't you have things to do as a director? Work?" I ask him, still boiling with anger.

"A computer and some files will be more than enough to keep me busy. I have everything I need. Besides, I assure you that you won't get bored when I have to go to the casino. Follow me."

To my great surprise, as soon as he opens the door to one of the apartment's rooms, my eyes widen as I discover a replica of my workshop, complete with all the necessary materials for creation, such as small jars, essential oils, flower extracts, and carefully labeled natural ingredients, just like in my own workspace.

Ah, the fragrance of the flowers in the brightly colored room has really missed me ! The room is bigger than my workshop, and in one corner there are fresh flowers that I can't help but go, and smell, making me feel so good.

"So, do you like it?" he requested.

"Yes but how did you do it? To be honest, I was not expecting it at all, I said, holding the flowers."

"Let's just say I have a good memory."

"But that does not change my displeasure at being away from home."

"Don't bring that up again! I told you, it is only temporary. In the meantime, I have thought of making an exact copy of your workshop so that you can get on with your work. Any files or documents you may need for your creations, my men can fetch them later if you wish."

"Hmm, yeah."

I can see Santiago smirking slightly and making himself comfortable, considering the subject closed and heading into the living room to settle down on the sofa. He turns on the large plasma TV hanging on the wall, offering immersive viewing thanks to its large screen and exceptional image quality.

Meanwhile, I am busy picking up the pieces of the broken cup, inwardly insulting him. Knocks at the front door pull me out of the kitchen, and I see one of the men in the living room. He was welcomed by Santiago, who let him in. The man brought a binder that probably contained work-related files. He left as quickly as he came.

Santiago promptly got to work. Focused, with a calculator next to his laptop, he works without saying a word until quite late. He only speaks to suggest ordering something to eat, to which I reply with a grunt. Taking that as a yes, he immediately places an order, and I eat while still pouting. To calm down, I pick up my phone to send a message to my mother, wishing her a good night and not to worry. From the way she replies, she seems pretty happy that I am with Santiago. I think if she knew the whole truth, she'd be less enthusiastic.

I glance at the clock and see that it is nearly one o'clock in the morning, prompting me to decide to go to bed. As I do, I discreetly observe him and even in his concentration, frowning, he is still as handsome as ever. Why, after so much anger against him, do I still find something positive in him? He always has this good intention to impress me and that I secretly enjoy, that I can't deny, like reproducing a workshop similar to mine to make me feel at ease.

"You are going to sleep?" he says suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts and making me blush.

"Yeah, right, good night."

"Very kind as always. Good night."

I don't answer and slam the bedroom door, leaving him standing there alone in the living room. It takes me a while to fall asleep, the images of my kidnapping running through my head and Santiago's revelations. It reminds me of the dream I'd had in which Diego told me I was going to discover things.

Also, Santiago's presence in these living conditions disturbs me. When sleep begins to overtake me, he is still working. The echo of the big house confirms this as I hear the sound of typing on his computer.

I had a nightmare that night, screaming, with the cacophony of blows and bullets. Heart pounding, suffocating and sweating, I wake up with a start. My panic intensifies when I feel a presence beside me in bed.

With an abrupt, defensive movement, I scream and kick the body, which falls with a thud, accompanied by a raging enunciation.

"Holy shit!"

I had just thrown Santiago out of bed.