Chapter 3 Camilla’s Pov
Darkness.
All I saw was the darkness that made me dread what was to come next.
I opened my eyes to find pitch blackness. I felt something covering my eyes and then the realization dawned on me.
Last night. I saw them shoot someone and then, they took me.
Fear immediately rushed through me and I pulled on my wrists but they wouldn't budge. I groaned. I'm obviously tied up.
I bit down on my lips as I held back my tears.
They're going to kill me!
I froze when I heard voices. They were multiple footsteps and I stayed totally still as they spoke.
“Luchó ferozmente! Pero la has visto? Es una belleza!” (she put up a fierce fight! But have you seen her? Such a beauty!)
Me. They're talking about me. Surely they mean to keep me alive if they find me beautiful.
I wasn't about to start questioning why they're keeping me alive. I'm just a bit relieved.
But that relief only lasted until the worst possible case flooded my mind.
They carry weapons. They speak Spanish. They're not afraid to kill.
Are they human traffickers?! Or worse still, the Spanish mafia!
I bit back a cry as I focused on listening.
“shhh! El jefe viene!” (Shhh! Boss is coming!)
Oh my God.
I let out an involuntary cry and froze as their talking ceased.
“Ella está despierta.” (She's awake.)
I heard footsteps walking closer to me and a second later, my blindfold was torn off.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the room. Two men were standing by the door. They were probably the ones talking about me earlier.
The man with the piercing gaze stood before me. I sucked in a breath and pressed myself farther into the wall, if that was even possible.
“Sweetheart, what's your name?” He asked as he knelt down beside me.
I flinched at his strong Spanish accent. His face was stern and pale and I noticed he had a small scar running along his chin. I felt this sudden urge to run my fingers through it.
Camilla!
These men were dangerous!
I was born and brought up in Spain. I only moved to Miami a couple of years back. Of course I was fluent in the language.
And if these men were anything like the Spanish mafia, then I knew they are ruthless and bloodthirsty.
Yeah! Not exactly the type of man you should be fantasizing about.
They didn't know I spoke Spanish yet and if I could control my accent, I could continue to understand what they were saying without them knowing.
“Cami. My name's Cami.” I said slowly. I couldn't bring myself to say ‘camilla’ , it was a popular Spanish name afterall.
The man in front of me nodded his head. “And your last name?”
My last name was Torres and it was Spanish. I definitely couldn't give out my real name.
“Andrews.” I said. My body was trembling from his intense gaze. I feared he could see through my lie.
“Hmm.” He hummed. “Come with me, Cami.” He said as he quickly stood up, almost walking out the door.
“No.” I was trying so hard to push my accent down and so far, it was working. I sounded American.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, very slowly, he turned to face me.
A small amused smile passed his lips. “Oh chica. I'm not really giving you a choice.”
His smile didn't reach his eyes and in one swift movement, he gripped me up, my hands still tied behind me.
I bit down on my tongue as the ropes cut into my wrists.
“Can you untie me?” I spoke slowly, fearing that I might divulge my accent if I spoke too quickly.
He looked at me, his eyes untrusting. “You're one fast little girl, you know. You climbed a fucking chain fence for fucks sake!”
I bit my tongue and looked away from him.
“Well, I suppose I could, if you promise not to run because I might just not hesitate to shoot you.” I turned to look at him and he had that same amused smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.
I nodded slowly.
My lower lip trembled but I said nothing.
Surely, my friend's would've noticed that I was missing by now, right?
He pulled a blade from his jacket pocket and cut the rope.
My arms arched as I flexed them, dark circles surrounding my wrists.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him as he dragged me out of the room.
We walked along a dimly lit hall and he suddenly stopped in front of a door.
It was a bathroom I realized as I walked in, poorly lit with grey tiled floors.
He walked close to me and started unzipping my dress from behind.
I froze. My eyes went wild and my blood ran cold.
“W–what are you doing?” I whispered.
“You need to shower. You smell like garbage. Get in the fucking shower.”
I took a quick glance at the shower stall. There was no curtain in place.
“There's no curtain….”
His arms were crossed as he leaned against the door, his eye brows cocked. He had that smile on his face again.
“So?”
He found this funny. I hadn't been sexually intimate with anyone before. Of course, there were guys that liked me here in college but I've always been dedicated to my studies.
Now, I'm going to just shower in front of a total stranger? Not to mention that this particular stranger was a murderer and possibly a human trafficker! I know all these and I don't even know his name yet!
“You have about five seconds to strip and get in the shower or I'll be happy to continue undressing you.”
I slowly shrugged out of my dress and left it to fall in a pile at my feet. I was left in my bra and lacy panties. I felt humiliated but I wasn't going to let this monster break me.
His eyes took me in. There was this fresh intensity in his gaze that wasn't there before. It scared and exhilarated me at the same time.
Trying to prove my defiance, I held his gaze and slowly unhooked my bra and slid off my underwear.
His sharp intake of breath was enough to convince me that I was winning this part of the war.
I turned away from him and stepped into the cold shower stall.
I turned on the water and flinched as the cold water splashed my face.
I could feel his gaze on me. My hands shook as I washed the dirt out of my hair, the dirt mixing in with the water as I scrubbed.
Suddenly, the water turned off and I was pulled out of the shower and backed up against the wall.
He stood so close to me, I felt his breath on my neck. His finger trailed down my neck to my tummy. “I could fuck you right here, chica.” He whispered.
I coughed as he pressed himself harder against me. I could already feel the thick bulge in his pants.
I could feel my body betraying me because I didn't want him to stop.
But do I really know what I'm asking for? I'm a virgin for fucks sake. I should really work harder on preventing the situation that was about to unfold.
What's happening to me?
“Virgin.” I coughed again. “I'm a v–virgin.” I hoped that would mean something to him.
I couldn't fathom the expression that crossed his face and his grip on me released a tiny bit. But then, his hand started moving dangerously close to my core. He had that damn smile on his face again!