Stolen Love (A Cartel Romance)

21

Harley's POV

Huncho's chef was actually a 70-year-old Abuela named Consuelo. She has been cooking for over 30 years, but she recently joined the cartel to pay off her son's debts. I listen to her recount a story from her cooking journey as I sipped on the pipping hot tea she'd just brewed me. She left me alone with a plate of hot tortillas and told me to enjoy them. It helped to calm my stomach from the painful aches I was experiencing. Sir left me in the dark the entire time we've been here. I don't know why he wants me to separate from him or why he only just decided to speak to Huncho. Loud footsteps walking towards me interrupted my thoughts.

"Henry." My eyes widened. Huncho's guards were still standing to the side of the room, watching me. They looked bored, more or less. I didn't look like any type of threat. However, Henry and Emilio did. Their bodies perked up a little when Henry and Emilio walking into the big kitchen area. I hopped down from the stool onto my feet as Henry approached me.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked. I only nodded since I wasn't feeling bad in the first place. "Good." He smiled and patted my hair softly. We sat in silence for longer than necessary. "Go" Henry grunted. Emilio and him marched towards Huncho's guard, grabbing either side of their necks and twisting them till they snapped and dropped to the floor. I gasped at the gruesome view. "We gotta hurry now." Henry jogged to me, grabbing my arm.

"Why-" I stuttered. "What's going on?" I asked

"We only got a couple of minutes," Henry said, pulling me out of the kitchen and to a long hallway. "We need to search this whole place." He relayed to me as he dragged me with him through a long corridor.

"Okay-" I tried to push away my shakiness. "But what about sir-" I started. "He's alone. He even told me to hurry back."

"Don't worry about him, he can handle himself. He knows what's going on." He reassured me. I guess it was apparent that I was worried although I hoped he wouldn't acknowledge it. We kept pushing forward. So Sir knew I wasn't coming back. They've had an entire plan of their own, and I had no idea. "He trusts you, Harley. Don't overthink it." Henry stopped me. Again, I guess I was easy to read.

"So what are we doing?" I breathed out.

"Search everywhere. Open every door and search every inch of the room." He explained. "Emilio will go with you, and I'll be on the other side." He instructed. I looked up to Emilio, who offered me a comfortable smile.

"Got it." I nodded.

"Come on, princess." Emilio placed his hand on my back and guided me forward. What's up with everyone calling me princess now?

We began jiggling the knobs of every door we came across. Half of them didn't open, and the other half did but were just servant quarters or empty rooms. I think I was half expecting to open a door and find a bunch of cocaine lying on the floor. This place looked run down if you really searched closely. The maids we came across walked past us nonchalantly, not sparing us a glance. I jogged down the long dark corridors pushing decor aside, pulling back carpet and rugs, and searching under vases. Emilio stayed close behind me, searching through more intimate things like dressers, desk, closest in the rooms. We came up short. Nothing was suspicious or out of place. We were nearing the end of the hallway--in fact, we were nearing the end of the whole house. We had reached the back of the estate with nothing to report. Still, I pushed forward to the last door in the hallway. Pushing the door open, it looked like a greenhouse area. All the walls were see-through, and the room was humid--either that or the windows were tinted. I walked in slowly, admiring the isles of greenery. The room was bigger than I thought. It looked shallow from the door, but it was actually long. The floors were cement and partially damp. It looks like the greens had just been watered recently. I jogged forward, but I still kept my eyes sharp. As I was stalking ahead, I noticed faint footsteps the further I went. The tracks were a mixture of soil and water, so I could clearly tell the footprints were from a group of beefy-footed men in dress shoes. I followed the tracks towards the back of the room; the deeper I went, the darker it got. I squinted my eyes, desperately trying to follow the tracks. Eventually reaching the back of the room, I felt around the walls. There is a reason the tracks stopped here. Pressing my palms against the wall, I felt along the wall's wetness until I hit a doorknob. There was a door back here. This feels like the beginning of a criminal minds episode. Seriously, what was the worse thing that could happen? I've gone too far to turn back now. I slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak. There were concrete steps leading down to a lower floor. How big was this fucking room? I was tired as hell. I could vaguely hear the sounds of the clacking of metal. I stopped my movements and stayed as still as possible.