Chapter 4

Mateo's POV. 

“Boss, I know where she lives,” Alan, my second in command, informed me as he plopped into the car.

I turned around, swirling my glass as I nodded for him to give me the details. 

I'd seen her being kidnapped by the notorious goons known for selling off women to brothels, and I thought she was a random girl until I lifted her into my arms, realizing she was my most recent temptation.

The one my son often mistreated and even cheated on.

After we had sex, my feelings for her grew even more and I knew there and then that I had to make her mine–whether Raymond liked it or not. 

“Keep your eyes on her every movement. Where she goes during the day, what she does for work, everything.” I ordered and Alan nodded firmly and started the ignition, driving us away from the area. 

For now, I'd watch my little princess from afar, and when I was ready, I'd make her mine.

~

Amelia's POV.

The constant feeling of being followed didn't end even when I was in my apartment. I constantly felt like I was being watched so I pulled a cupboard against my door, in a fit to help myself feel safe.

I took a deep breath, sprinting to my room and when I got there, I slipped my feet out of my shoes, dropping my weight against my bed as I racked my head on how to get the money for my mother's treatment.

Just then, I noticed a pink envelope sitting on the cupboard beside my bed. That was strange. I never leave anything in that cupboard.

I picked it up, slipping it open to find a letter written in finest italics writing, “I still want you. But if you insist on breaking up, I'll find you.” 

My breath hitched at the sight of the message, I knew exactly who it was from.

Raymond.

He always played games like this.

But not this time.

I wasn't going back to him, no matter what. This wasn't love, this was just manipulation and he'd gotten away with it because I was in love with him, not anymore. 

I needed to leave this place before he got his men to kidnap me. But where could I possibly go right now? This was my home and I had no other place to go.

Plus, what was the use of running away from him if he was only going to make life miserable for me?

Just then, someone came to mind.

Anna, my best friend.

I could go to her place for the night, and probably talk to her about this and then we'd figure something out. 

Holding that thought, I quickly went to my wardrobe, grabbing some important things like my clothes, perfumes, books and other things I'd need to spend a few days on.

In a matter of minutes, I was all set to leave. The tremor in my body increased as I walked out of my room but I took steady breaths, calming myself as I left my apartment. 

The moment I plopped out, my phone rang in my pocket, making my heart skip a beat.

I lifted it to my ears without staring at the caller's ID.

“Hello,” I said softly as the night breeze washed over my skin, blowing my hair against my face.

“Sweetheart, are you still mad at me?” The cruel, deceptive voice came from the other end.

I dropped the phone from my ears, wanting to end the call but then his voice came again.

“Don't hang up on me, except you want to have this conversation in person,” He said, chuckling maliciously.

My jaws clenched even as my heart raced, “What do you want?”

“You my darling, situations must be tough now, isn't it? I heard your mother's health is deteriorating.” Even from the phone call, I could sense the mocking tone in his voice.

My insides pooled with anxiety as I gripped the phone tightly, “That's none of your business.”

“Darling, don't be so tough now. Are you really going to let your mother die when you know you can do something about it?” He questioned, even though he didn't care what became of my mother.

For him, she was just the best bait to my weakness. 

The thought of her frail body, and her pale skin under the hospital lights from the last time I'd seen her came to mind and that made emotions bubble at my throat.

He was right. 

I'd never forgive myself if my mother died. 

But I'd also not be able to live in my own skin if I gave myself to a stranger.

“I'm not going to sleep with him, Raymond. Find another whore for the job,” I gritted out as rage flowed through my veins.

He scoffed, and it was so audible through my speakers.

“Well then, I think your mom looks better without the oxygen mask.”

My heart stopped for a second as I glared at no one in particular, “Wha–what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Check the photos, sweetheart.” 

And with that, I dropped the phone and tapped the photo he sent to me. 

“No, mom!” The words tore out of my throat before I could stop it. I pressed a trembling hand over my lips, shocked to see Raymond's men disguised as doctors and touching the equipment that sustained my mother.

“Raymond, please stop this. Get them out of there!” I barked into the phone.