Blindfolds of Desire

The man in black

ARABELLA

When I open my eyes again, it's already morning. I am no longer wearing my sweater and jeans. Instead, a simple white flowered gown clings to my skin. Who changed my clothes? How did I not notice anything?

I don't get to think about it for long before the door swings open.

I shrink back against the headboard, the rope cutting into my wrist as I pull at it. His face is clear now in the daylight. He is the same man from the rain—the one who took me. He is still dressed in black, dark hair slightly tousled, ocean-blue eyes locking onto mine like he's searching for something inside me. He seems older than Liam. He is probably in his late twenties. A dangerous aura seems to radiate from him that I can't explain.

"Arabella Garcia," he says with a small smile. "You're finally awake."

I try to speak, but my throat is sore from all the screaming last night. All that comes out is a whisper. "What the hell do you want?"

He closes the door behind him slowly and walks toward the bed. He is holding a glass of water. He sets it on the nightstand. I watch every movement, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"You should drink," he says calmly. "Your throat definitely hurts from all the shouting."

"Just let me go. I don't need anything from you," I hiss.

"That depends on how well you are willing to cooperate."

"Cooperate? What do you want? Money?"

Who knows—maybe this isn't as serious as I thought.

He shakes his head, sliding his hands into his pockets. "It's not that simple."

"What is it, then? My father is powerful. He can give you whatever you want."

"Well…" He looks directly into my eyes without blinking. "I want his blood."

Heat rushes up my neck. This is worse than I thought.

I widen my eyes, trying to intimidate him, staring back with every bit of intensity I can. "You can take his blood. What does that have to do with me?"

He steps closer and brings his lips to my ear. "Are you sure about that, Princess Arabella?"

A shiver runs through my whole body the moment his breath touches my skin.

"What are you doing?" My voice comes out pleading instead of commanding.

He walks to the bed and pulls the rope away from my wrist in a swift motion.

I gasp. Not from pain, but from the sudden freedom. I flex my fingers, watching the blood rush back into them. He actually untied me.

"Have some water."

He steps back, heading toward the door.

"Are you going to kill me?"

He doesn't turn around. "Well… let's see what happens."

With that, he is gone, slamming the door shut.

I scramble off the bed immediately and rush to the door, yanking the handle with all my strength. It doesn't budge. The force sends me stumbling backward and I land hard on the floor. I feel the pain in my butt.

"Oh Lord, what have I gotten myself into?"

I pull myself back onto the bed, pick up the glass of water, and pour it down my throat.

Oh my God—what if he drugged it?

Whatever. He didn't say he was going to kill me. At least not right now.

---

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LIAM

Across town, Liam sits on the wet pavement. His knuckles are bleeding, but he ignores the sting. He has been sitting there all night, drenched and clueless.

He stares at his phone. Its battery died at about four a.m. "She wouldn't just leave. Not without me."

He stands up slowly, his soaked shirt plastered to his chest. His truck is still two blocks away, useless. He looks at the open ivory gate one last time.

He's going to the Garcia mansion. He's going to bang on their door until someone answers. Until he gets the truth. Even if they humiliate him, he will do anything for Arabella's sake.

But first, he needs a shower and clean clothes.

He starts walking down the street when something catches his eye—a small silver box half-buried in the mud. He pulls it up and pops the lock open.

He's right. It belongs to Arabella. Her clothes, her scent—he would recognize them anywhere.

This is a clue. It's something.

He locks the box, grips it tightly, and heads toward the direction of his truck.

---

...........................................................................

BACK AT THE GARCIA MANSION

Victor Garcia stands by the window in his study, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out at the estate. It's a habit he's developed over the years—his mind is always occupied. Who wouldn't be, with enemies lurking at every corner?

Everything looks normal outside. Security guards patrol the grounds. In fact, it is a beautiful morning. His daughter is to leave for France today—at least she would be far away from danger.

A soft knock interrupts his thoughts. Veronica walks in wearing her cream-colored blouse, her hair perfectly pinned. Her face looks tense.

He turns as she enters. "Arabella isn't answering her door. I knocked twice. Nothing."

"What are you trying to say?" He is already frowning.

"She didn't come down for breakfast. I asked Jane to leave a tray just outside her door. It's still there."

Victor moves past Veronica in seconds, heading straight for Arabella's room. He forces the door open the moment he reaches it.

The room is empty and silent. The bed is rumpled.

Veronica swings open the wardrobe. A whole section of her clothes is gone.

"She's gone, Victor," she says, unable to hide the panic in her voice. "She ran away from us."

Victor's jaw clenches. "I can already see it."

Veronica lifts Arabella's pillow and finds a small note.

Mom, Dad,

I'm sorry. I can't live like this anymore. I love Liam. Please don't come after me.

— Arabella

She reads it over and over, gripping the paper tightly.

Victor walks out of the room. "Mark!" he yells.

The head of security appears in front of him in a split second.

"Sir."

"My daughter left this house last night. Are you aware?"

Mark meets his eyes for a second, then looks down. "No, sir."

"What do you mean no?"

Sweat forms at the back of Mark's neck. He has always avoided Victor's anger, but now there's no way out.

"We will find her, sir."

"Don't bother coming back if you don't find her by midnight."

Mark nods and turns away. He needs to get to work immediately.

"And go get Liam Aguilar," Victor adds before he can leave. "Bring him to me immediately."

Mark stops for a second. "Yes, sir." He hurries off to check in with the others—if anyone saw her leave.