UNTAMED | BUCKY BARNES x OC

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

SOFÍA CASTILLO

I quickly got off the plane with Rogelio and found my way into the limo the following evening. The glow of the sunset hitting the skyscrapers in Chicago makes the later travel time worth it. I wasn't used to flying into a city so late; I preferred to be there early and then back in my hometown at night.

After having the call with James last night, I dreamt of him. I couldn't escape him, and I needed him to finish what he started that night in the office.

His simple touch scorched my skin and made me crave him even more than I ever thought possible. There was no way that I'd be able to go to a few more meetings with him in private without needing that touch again. Simply, I was deprived.

The past week has been a whirlwind of personal meetings with my clients and really thinking about my future. With the pressure from my father to inevitably take over the family business and have a lifelong partnership with James Barnes, I needed a break.

Honestly, I did not want to lose my spark and become someone I didn't recognize for the benefit of my father and James. I wasn't some pawn in my father's game; I deserve to live the life I want.

I did not want to succumb to a lesser version of myself just to please future relationships and the longevity of the Castillo cartel. I'm scared shitless and I feel like no one understands me and the position I'm in. My inner voice is clawing at the seams and is ready to burst if I have one more argument with my father. It'll burst if James keeps taunting me with his touch and leaving me with no end goal.

That really shouldn't be my concern right now, but it has become one of my top ones. It almost reaches the same level of vexation as my father's continuous arguments.

Teresa's birthday couldn't come fast enough. I was ready to have a mental recharge and come back rejuvenated from it. Just the thought of tanning on top of a yacht, with the sun beaming hard on my skin, and sangria in my hand calmed me for a mere moment. But that moment didn't last long.

"En qué piensas?" Rogelio speaks up next to me as the limo drives us through the streets of downtown Chicago. I turn to look at him and see the view of the many shops behind Rogelio through his side of the window. A glimpse of Loro Piana and Hermes fills my vision, and my eyes find their way to the street sign of East Oak Street as we pass it, and I mentally take note of it to return to shop there.

I shrug my shoulders at his question of what I'm thinking about. I bite my lip, thinking of a lie. But I'm mentally exhausted and can't lie to him like this. "Sabes-" I start but then close my mouth.

Rogelio sighs and then reaches his left hand over to pat my back gently. "You can tell me anything, mija. So what's on your mind? Or do you want to wait until we're done with our meeting with Mr. Barnes?"

His English words flow smoothly in his accent, and I meet his eyes. I can trust Rogelio to let me speak my mind. But I'm not even sure what I want to say to him; there is so much going on in my head about my choices and feelings I can't put them into words. I lean my head back into the headrest of the limo and sigh again.