Trafficked -- Beaten -- Trapped
When eighteen-year-old Stacy Degray sets off to visit Felipe, a charming guy she met on the internet, she has no idea that she is being lured to his home country Malaguay to be auctioned off as a soldier's bride. All...
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I catch up with Miguel the next morning as he's about to leave his office. The older guy who was also there when he had the meeting with Tomás is with him and stops mid-sentence as soon as I appear. Arms folded, he glares at me with tight lips. Though I have no clue what I could've done to upset him, the animosity is palpable.
"I'll see you later, Commandante." He stalks off without giving me the benefit of another glance.
"Who was that?"
"General Pablo Varela. He's our head of military and my father's security advisor." Miguel casually flings his arm around my shoulders and guides me away from his office.
"I don't think he likes me."
"Don't take it personally. He's suspicious of everyone. It's his nature."
My brows scrunch together. "But why he is suspicious of me?"
"Because you are an American. For him, you are all spies who help the rebels. He's even trying to stop the American teachers from coming into the country to help out in the orphanage."
"I think that's a mistake. It's so much better if kids learn a language from a native speaker."
"That's actually a really good point. I should tell my dad."
His words awaken a sense of achievement in me. No one has ever cared about my opinions.
"Don't. He'll probably think it's stupid."
"Hey." He stops and cups his hands around my shoulders, shaking me gently. "Don't put yourself down. You are full of good ideas."
My skin tingles under his intense gaze. "How do you know?"
"Because you are a wonderful woman. You have compassion—and you're smart."
Heat stings my cheeks. He shouldn't compliment me. It's embarrassing and I doubt he truly means it. "So what are your plans for us today?"
"Let's switch around the schedule and go to the shooting range this morning. My dad is taking my stepmom to an event this afternoon, so we'll have the mansion all to ourselves."
"Sounds good."
Five minutes later, I'm prepped with earmuffs and goggles and raise the gun for the first round of shots. Raine's gaze is glued to the side of my face as I empty the magazine into the target; when I turn my head, she glares at me with envy.
I load fresh bullets into the magazine and glance at Miguel. "Why don't the other foreign girls use the shooting range?"
"Because they aren't allowed to."
"Then why doesn't that apply to me?"
"Because I said so." He wraps his arms around me from behind and nibbles my ear.
I twitch. "Don't, Miguel. We're in public."
"And? I want the world to know how crazy I'm about you."
"It bothers me." My cheeks heat and I tighten the grip around the gun. "Besides, it's distracting."
