Fatal Alliances [✓]

13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MALIA

I WASN'T SURPRISED THIS TIME. My bound wrists didn't even phase me. At the very least, my feet were free to move about and my mouth was completely exposed, so I used that to my advantage.

I had absolute freedom to say whatever I pleased therefore, and there was nothing he could do unless he decided now was the time to take out the duct tape —which he wouldn't dare to do, because I was genuinely behaving.

Mateo Izaac, or Costello —or whatever his name was —didn't like how pretentious and insolent I was, even after he'd sedated me and had me transported from his premises, only to find us both seated in front of each other on a plane.

No, scrap that, make that a colossal, luxury jet.

Mateo said it was his. I didn't bother asking how it could be his, considering it was clearly purchased and signed with his dirty blood money, because he was obviously a shambles of a man who didn't have an ounce of moral or rationality within him.

Yes, that's what I really thought about him.

Because what type of man in his right mind kidnapped a random woman and forced her into trying to lure his brother back, just so he could attempt to kill him? I thought brown families had drama, but this was another level of twisted.

After asking him to pour me some champagne and he flat out refused, I resorted to giving him major side eye and sat humming to myself, doing anything I could to irritate him, including kicking my legs out in a jagged motion, so I could make sure my blood was still flowing.

"I need to itch my nose." I told him, about to throw a tantrum as I purposefully scratched the arm of my seat, the leather dipping, much to his annoyance.

"Release you and risk my face being clawed at?" He all but snapped. "You can use your foot."

"I'd much rather be able to do it with my hand." I frowned, looking down at the thin, but strong knots that webbed around my fingers. "You're lucky I'm not screaming at you, because I still don't understand why you had me sedated before getting on this plane. Trust me I have no intention of actually attacking you. I just want to get back to my holidaying, sir. Are you always this cruel to the people you abduct?"

He slowly raised his eyes from the screen of my phone, which he had yet to hand over to me. But, at the very least, he'd returned my now broken pair of heels and also my purse, that still had my lipstick inside and fake ID even, albeit with some of my chewing gum missing.

"Well, for starters I can't quite risk you knowing where I live. It's mainly for my people safety. And I don't usually do this." Mateo told me coldly. "I'm readjusting."'

"I think it's stupid to assume I still can't tell someone that you carted me off to an Island —that's supposedly only known to you. You're a rubbish kidnapper —an amateur, it really shows." I huffed. "What a waste of energy, don't you think? You could have asked me whatever you needed to right there at the club and I'd have probably told you."