“They’ll never succeed. They’ve tried before. I’m still here. And that Pierce Hunt . . . I thought Mr. Granger was supposed to take care of him?”
“I haven’t heard back from him. So perhaps Hunt’s dead. Who knows? But we have to consider the possibility that it is Mr. Granger who’s six feet under.”
“That would be a shame.”
“Listen to me, Valentina. The only reason we’re still alive and able to operate our business is because the Americans are playing within the set of rules they imposed upon themselves. Kill that girl by burning her on the world stage for everyone to watch, and I can guarantee they’ll scorch the rule book. Next thing you know, one of their Predators will fire a couple of Hellfire missiles and—”
“They don’t have the guts!”
“Two years ago I would have agreed with you. But now? With this president? I think he’s just looking for a reason to give the order to shoot.”
In the end, he had won his point. The Black Tosca had agreed to sell Leila to Sáez for $100,000. It was much lower than she’d get for her on the open market, but at least she wouldn’t have to incur the Americans’ wrath.
Sáez lived in a large house in Candelaria, the most exclusive countryside development in San Miguel and only five minutes from the center of the city. Bordered by beautiful and mature trees, Sáez’s house had splendid views of the Picacho Mountains. As Hector’s driver turned into the long driveway leading to Sáez’s estate, the sun began to set behind the large house.
In the rear of the SUV, Leila gave a small whimper. Hector turned in his seat and looked at her. She had promised to behave, so he had removed the zip ties around her ankles and cuffed her hands in front of her instead of behind her back. There was no duct tape on her mouth either.
She was crying, tears streaming down her face. He handed her a tissue, and she used it to wipe her tears and blow her nose.
I saved your life, Hector thought. Now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just put a bullet in your head to save you from the misery that’s about to come.
“Where are you taking me?” Leila asked, hating the way her voice betrayed her fear.
Hector didn’t respond. Usually arrogant and self-assured, he now looked confused, and she didn’t know why. It made her anxious. As much as she abhorred him, something about Hector made her feel safe. How twisted was that? He’s the one who kidnapped me and almost knocked me out, but with him I feel safe?
Through the front windshield of the Range Rover, she saw that the driveway split into a circular loop outside the steps of the large wooden front door. A panoply of luxury cars was parked around the loop.
“Where are we?” she asked Hector, but he once again failed to reply. Instead, he hopped out of the SUV and climbed the six steps leading to the front door. He rang the front bell, and a moment later, a man greeted him. He offered his hand to Hector, but Hector slapped it away. The man seemed offended, and he looked long and hard at Hector, who stood his ground. The whole situation was driving her crazy. She couldn’t shake the tingling feeling that something very wrong was about to happen to her. Her body began to shiver—out of fear, surely. Just a few short days ago, she had been safe and happy and eating pizza with her dad. Now, here she was, trembling like a leaf, hungry, and scared out of her wits.
Hector walked back to the Range Rover and opened the door for her.
“Follow me,” he said, his face completely devoid of any expression.
Leila lifted her chin slightly and said, her voice quavering, “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
He seized her arm and started pulling her out of the Range Rover. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and tried to grab on to the headrest in front of her to keep from being dragged out of the SUV, but Hector was too strong. Her hands slipped on the smooth leather, and he roughly tugged her out of the vehicle. The moment her feet hit the ground, she screamed and kicked out at him before she lunged, her tied hands in front of her, aiming for his already injured ear. He easily sidestepped to his right, and she landed face-first on the asphalt. He picked her up effortlessly and, without another word, tossed her over his shoulder.
It was pointless to resist, so she didn’t. He set her onto her feet once inside the house. The man who’d wanted to shake Hector’s hand was standing next to her, a big, ugly smile on his face.
“I’ll take her from here, if you don’t mind,” the man said.
Hector took one long last look at her, and, for a fleeting moment, she thought he was about to take her back to the SUV, but he turned away. Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she wiped them angrily with her forearm.
“Welcome, Leila. Welcome,” the man said. “I’m óliver Sáez, and you’re mine.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
Hunt had kept the line open with Carter so they could communicate in real time.
“Hector’s coming out of the house, Pierce. Leila isn’t with him. She’s still in the house.”