Chapter 38
"Follow me," Mr. Montoya said quietly. A pause passed. "Stay close." I obeyed instantly.
The East garden pathway stretched endlessly before us as we walked through the darkness in silence. My heart refused to settle. Every step felt wrong—reckless and exposed.
Mr. Montoya walked ahead of me with calm, measured steps, as if none of this surprised him. It was as if finding me sneaking through the estate in the middle of the night had only inconvenienced him. It left me wondering about the level of danger I'd agreed to when I risked going to the East garden pathway.
The cold night breeze slipped beneath the black fabric covering my arms, but it did nothing to cool the heat crawling beneath my skin. My thoughts spiraled violently as I followed behind him.
Had he seen the hooded figure? The question pounded inside my skull repeatedly. How long had he been there? Had he heard us talking? I tried desperately to replay every second in my mind—every sound and movement.
Panic distorted everything. I couldn't remember hearing footsteps behind me on my way to the meeting point. Then again, someone like Mr. Montoya wouldn't make noise if he didn't want to. Fear tightened painfully inside my chest.
The hooded figure had disappeared too quickly—almost unnaturally quickly. Had Mr. Montoya seen that too? Or worse…
Did he already know?
Since the day Mr. Fernando abducted me, had Mr. Montoya anticipated his next move and waited for him to execute it? I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep moving. The mansion slowly came into view ahead of us, glowing softly against the darkness. Beautiful, controlled, and suffocating were the words that came to mind.
As we approached the entrance, one of the guards stationed near the west corridor straightened immediately.
"Sir," he greeted Mr. Montoya. Then his eyes landed on me. Confusion flashed openly across his face before he quickly tried to hide it. His brows lifted slightly as though he couldn't understand how I was standing there.
Mr. Montoya stopped walking. The silence that followed was immediate and heavy.
"You were assigned this sector tonight," he said calmly.
"Yes, sir," the guard replied with a stiffened pose.
Mr. Montoya tilted his head slightly towards me without looking away from the guard.
"Explain to me," he continued softly, "how she managed to leave the mansion unnoticed." The guard's face paled instantly.
"I— Sir, I didn't—"
"You didn't what?"
The question wasn't loud. It wasn't even angry. That somehow made it worse. The guard lowered his head immediately.
"My apologies, sir," he pleaded. Mr. Montoya stared at him for one long second before speaking again.
"If someone else has walked through that entrance tonight, my children could have been endangered," his voice remained calm and controlled. "Do you understand the severity of your incompetence?"
"Yes, sir," the guard replied shakily.
"Good."
And just like that, he continued walking, leaving the guard to savor the lingering threat. I followed silently, but I could feel the other guards staring at me as we passed. Curiosity, suspicion, and confusion laced their stares. I ignored all of it.
The inside of the mansion felt closer than before. The silence echoed around us as we moved through the halls. My nerves tightened further with every passing second.
When we finally reached his study, Mr. Montoya opened the door without a word and stepped inside, confident I'd follow. I hesitated briefly before following. The room looked the same; why shouldn't it?
Dark wood shelves held the books I had borrowed. Low lighting emphasized the dark color of all the furnishings. The large desk was positioned at the far end of the room, close to the huge window overlooking the estate grounds.
Somehow, this room felt completely different tonight. I remembered one of the times I had been here. I had argued about the importance of Carlitos and Serena being in an actual school rather than being homeschooled. The atmosphere had been tense even then, but manageable.
Tonight felt like a courtroom. Or an execution chamber.
The door shut softly behind me. Mr. Montoya removed his coat slowly before tossing it carelessly across one of the chairs. He wore a black jacket underneath, which was unbuttoned at his tattooed chest. His eyes settled on me.
"Who was out there that you went to meet?"
Straight to it.
"No one," I replied, crossing my arms instinctively. A dangerous silence followed. Mr. Montoya walked around the desk slowly.
"You left your room after midnight," he said calmly. "You avoided security routes," he continued, taking a step away from his desk. "You walked directly to the East Garden pathway." His gaze sharpened slightly. "And now you're telling me it was for no reason?"
"I couldn't sleep," I said. His expression didn't change.
"So you decided to wander through restricted sections of my estate dressed in black?" he questioned, and I looked away briefly.
"It wasn't planned," I replied.
"That's unfortunate," he said. "Because it looked planned." My thoughts tightened.
"You're assuming things," I said dismissively.
"No, Alice. I'm observing them," his voice lowered slightly.
Silence stretched between us.
"Who was there with you?" he asked. I hesitated too long. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He asked if I could tell him the identity of the person I'd just met.
Instead of denying meeting anyone, I replied, "I can't. She was hooded. All covered up."
"A she, huh?" Mr. Montoya cooed.
"Of course it was a she. I could tell from her voice," I argued against his accusing tone. His gaze held mine before he gestured towards himself.
"Come here."
I didn't move.
"Come sit," he said, beckoning me toward the chair behind his desk. Unease curled tighter inside me.
I eventually obeyed. As I sat in the soft leather chair, he moved behind me and pushed the chair slightly closer to the desk. My pulse stumbled. Then he leaned over me to operate the laptop resting there. Too close. Far too close.
His arm brushed lightly against the side of the chair as his fingers moved across the keyboard. The warmth of his presence surrounded me immediately, distracting me from everything else. I inhaled before I could stop myself. His scent of gin, tobacco, and expensive cologne wrapped around me slowly and dangerously.
We weren't even touching—not even slightly—but I still felt myself leaning toward him before self-consciousness struck me hard. I shrank deeper into the oversized chair instantly.
The laptop screen flickered to life. Then security footage appeared. My room. My stomach dropped immediately. I could now tell the angles of those damned cameras.
The footage played silently. Empty room. Empty bed. Empty silence. I looked toward the timestamp. Dinner hours. I had still been downstairs working then. Beside me, Mr. Montoya remained completely silent as the footage continued.
Ever so slowly, the door of my room unlocked. My breath caught. A figure dressed entirely in black clothes stepped inside, wearing a head bonnet and a face mask.
The figure hadn't been careless. Calm, precise, and deliberate were its movements. I stopped breathing completely. The figure could be Jojo or someone completely different; I could discern this from the body shape.
The figure walked toward my bed and placed the black envelope carefully at the center. Then it turned and walked toward the door, locked it from the outside, and disappeared. Silence swallowed the room.
Mr. Montoya forwarded the footage. Minutes passed rapidly on the screen until the recordings showed me entering my room after dinner. I watched myself notice the envelope. The video froze there.
Suddenly, the chair turned sharply beneath me, and my knee scraped the inner edge of the desk. I gave a strangled yelp of pain as Mr. Montoya spun me around to face him directly.
On seeing my face distorted in discomfort, he crouched down and lent his attention to the spot on my knee. He used his fingers to soothe the area, and once again, I was distracted. His hands gently caressed my knee.
When the pain was all but gone, he looked up at my half-closed eyes and froze. I gazed back at him through my half-closed eyes. A strange moment, laced with something I couldn't name, passed. I saw his jaw twitch and then tighten.
He got up and leaned casually against the edge of his desk, then crossed his arms. He watched me for one long second.
"Start talking," he said flatly.
The words landed heavily; our short moment ended, and my mind spiraled instantly.
"You'll eventually have to choose a side… You're standing in the middle. And people standing in the middle usually die first," the hooded figure's voice echoed sharply in my head.
Fear crawled through me because suddenly the danger felt bigger than before. Mr. Fernando had someone inside the estate, inside Mr. Montoya's walls. And if Mr. Fernando could place messages inside my room unnoticed…
Then he could take me anytime he wanted. Another horrible thought struck me immediately afterward. What if Mr. Fernando tried to take me again? Would I survive it this time? Would Mr. Montoya allow me back again if I failed him now?
I looked at the frozen image of myself on the laptop screen, then back at Mr. Montoya. For the first time since this nightmare began, I truly didn't know which man frightened me more.