25. She's not a prisoner

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Valentina

"Do you like it here?" Sofia asked me, hopping a step ahead of me at the turn in the garden before looking over her shoulder.

Talking to Sofia about her reservations or her liking for Mexico was foolish from my end but it had her talking. And a talking Sofia was a happier, less brooding one.

Being a victim of kidnapping, it wasn't a normal scenario where she came to Mexico to enjoy the sun and the beaches. She was dragged out by us forcefully. There was no question about her being comfortable in this place. Yet, the chirpy girl that she was, she took all the sufferings in stride. She even questioned me back. "Tell me Val, do you like it here?"

"What's not there to like? It's where I was born. I love staying here." I answered, as we sat on the garden bench overlooking the greenery.

Cooped up in her room, I saw how much she craved for the outside world, even if it were just the gardens. She wasn't the prisoner here, she was the victim. A girl, who paid for the wrongdoings of her brother.

As much as I wanted to drive her back to Spain, I knew it would only end up with me in her situation, the second I crossed the borders. Santos was driven crazy with our little stunt. His men were spread across the entire country for any information on Sofia. We were expecting him to react.

Prepared for everything, Antonio seemed confident whenever Salazars was the topic of discussion. Yet, there was no consensus on what would happen to Sofia if Santos didn't agree with out plans. Sofia was a bargain chip for now. But what would happen to her if the deal was made?

Will he accept her sister or toss her out?

How sad must be our lives where I was scared for my ruse being uncovered and hers, where her own flesh and blood may reject her. Men in our world too everything from us. We were left with nothing more than broken skin and hearts. Atleast I was training to suffer, having learned tactics in case of a capture. But Sofia..

Patting her hand over my knee, she pulled me back from the darkened hold of my own thoughts. 

"Still, don't you want to leave all this and go somewhere?" She looked up, watching the crimson hued sky with a tinge of purple like a dead body, slowing loosing blood while accepting and embracing death as its companion. " Somewhere peaceful and quite." She finished her words with a sign.

I adored her innocence. Sofia's naïve nature was a pleasant view for the sore eyes who had seen more violence than any. Her sweet innocent filled voice was the balm that could heal even the most broken of the souls. In a way, she was a divine blessing of the heavenly entities and yet, she suffered.  

Sister of a man who practically ran the Spanish drug cartel, she was gullible in the ways of business to have hoped for peace and quiet. A part of me craved for her childlike assumptions. How great would have been her childhood for her to retain her innocence?

Mine, I remembered, was lost in training. You don't stay innocent anymore when trained to kill. Compassion and kindness was replaced with cruelty and stone cold determination and whatever feelings could be festered were quashed under a rock, placed above the heart. You shouldn't feel anything for the enemy clan. Yet I did.

I felt bad for Sophia. She was a flower who was caught up in the tornado of empire clash among two men. Two alphas. As I watched her wither away, all I could do was hold onto her in my embrace, protecting her from being torn apart by this storm which came to claim us all.

I patted Sofia's knees as she coiled then onto her chest and leaning back on the bench.

"One day, hopefully." I said. She smiled at the wind and the greyer sky, a silent prayer from her.

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