Her Billionaire, Her Revenge

Chapter 002

MATEO's Point of View

My shoes sounded on the marble floor louder than they ought to have. I heard my heart excessively quick. Too loud.

From the outside, the building appeared flawless. The building appeared impeccably well-maintained. The building boasted white-painted walls, meticulously cleaned glass, and well-maintained glass and metal borders. Something about it, though, felt artificial, like a smile covering something terrible underneath.

I made my way into the conference room. Everything within me stopped.

Rosa.

She sat with a sense of ownership. One leg crossed over the other while her fingers tapped her phone. She remained calm as always. Her eyes, however, did not match. Her eyes appeared as if they were striving to remain still.

She remained silent until I approached her.

"Mateo."

"Mateo Ice. I understood it as much as I understood my breathing.

'Clara.'

You truly are.

You are gleaming.

"Is that me being sarcastic or shocked?"

"Other."

"I am not here for you."

"Could have fooled me."

Rising, she moved to the window. I continued to stare at her, unable to stop myself. Even now, five years later, I can't help but stare. That she still controlled me infuriated me.

You knew I would be here today? I inquired.

She shook her head and turned, not looking back. No. I did not.

"Well," surprise.

She pivoted at last. Our eyes locked, and for a moment I lost consciousness of breathing. She broke our eye contact then, as if it mattered nothing.

"You changed, I remarked.

"You haven't."

"That is a compliment."

Neither is it.

Every word said between us had a blade in it.

"You saw her," she said.

"Yours? That thick stuff that causes skin itching is yours?

She then responded without blinking.

"Would it make a difference?"

She has my eyes.

"Also my face."

"Coincidence."

Not yes. Neither was it. It wasn't even close.

I slid the chair back and sat, but my entire body was tense—as though I didn't trust the air.

You lie to me.

"You did not need the truth, but rather you knew previously what would fit your narrative.

"You left.

"You drove me to."

That section suffered, since perhaps she was correct.

She murmured, her voice hardly audible, "I almost told you…" Then "that. But you wouldn't let me."

"You ought to have told me anyhow."

"You would have branded me a liar. Like you always did when things terrified you."

Oh damn.

Trying not to punch something, I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.

Emilia, the girl with the eyes that tormented me, spun quickly in my head, a past I tried to bury.

"She's mine," I answered.

Clara stayed still. She simply observed me. Her quiet was more powerful than a scream.

She deserves to know.

"So did I."

"You're purging me."

"I sheltered her."

That one went differently. Deep down, it felt genuine.

Her phone rang. She gave it a brief look. Then every color drained from her face.

"What?" I begged.

Not anything.

"Clara?

She grabbed her purse and shot off.

I followed her across the hall from the room. There seemed to be a mistake. I sensed something was wrong.

She tore across the side door and into the garage. Not visible, driver.

"Tell me!"

Her hands were shaking so violently she couldn't unlock her phone as she tried to call someone.

"Who wrote to you?"

"Lucía."

"What happened?"

Her voice cracked. "Emilia's Missing."

Nothing stopped. The floor beneath us seemed to tilt.

"What kind of missing do you mean?"

She never turned up for violin lessons.

"After?"

"More hours ago. No call. Nothing."

She staggered up against the wall. To save her from falling, I reached for her arm.

"We will find her."

She cried, ripping away from me, "You don't get to swear to me anymore!"

That split something within me.

"I'm phoning the police."

"Mateo, she has vanished." Someone snatched her. Her timetable was known to them.

Her comments stayed in my brain like a terrible tune.

Who on earth would kidnap a small child?

Then it dawned on me.

Santiago."

"Come on," he says

"Where are we heading?"

"To the one bastard who would hurt me just to be nasty."

Clara stared at me, seemingly uncertain about whether I was serious. Then, she followed me.

We entered the car right away. With my hands icy cold on the wheel, I started the engine. But my head says otherwise. Burning.

Miguel Morales. He had threatened us once before. He said, "I won't shoot you, Mateo. I will pick one item you will bleed for.

Back then, I didn't think he was credible.

I am doing it today.

Sitting stiffly next to me, Clara gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles became white.

"Are you okay?"

Here is what I have.

"You're not alone."

"Nums." But I was also. Five years.

I knew nothing about how to respond to that.

"She loves music," Clara said quietly. That's how I knew she would fare. Children that enjoy music do not break easily."

easily, he won't."

"I will," says

"Not in my view."

Like it was running in fury, the automobile swirled across the metropolis. I pressed down on the gas pedal. My heart hammered sufficiently to cloud my eyesight.

We hauled up outside Santiago's house. Music thumped loudly from the walls. Red signals shone like a warning from heaven.

I crashed the door behind me. She trailed closely.

Inside, smoke danced around us. The air was filled with scents, perspiration, and alcohol. My senses were overwhelmed.

I shoved towards the rear corridor, past the throng. Two guardians barred the office door.

"Be on "Be on

They did not migrate.

Not asking is what I'm saying.

One man stretched his belt. She intervened.

"Try it," she screamed. "You dare me."

They stopped freezing. They then took a hesitant step back.

I pounced on the door opening.

Santiago sat at the desk, calm as always. Happy.

Mateo Delzag. I thought I sounded desperate.

"Where is she?

He lifted his eyebrows. "Who??"

"Don't pretend with me!"

He pushed back. You consider me to have taken your tiny secret? None. I do not interact with children."

You challenged her.

I threatened everyone.

You said you would hurt me through what I love.

And I meant it. But neither was I.

Then, who?"

He smiled. "Maybe ask the woman seated next to you. She is hiding more than just paternity.

Clara's jaw grew tighter. She said nothing, though.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Santiago stood motionless. "Not everyone is an adversary," Mateo. Your opponent might occasionally sleep next to you.

I rushed, then Clara stopped me.

She yelled, "Enough!" "We are running out of time."

Santiago averted his gaze. Delgado, we should find her before someone else does.

We turned around and went outdoors. Cold air pushed through our faces.

"Why didn't you tell me others existed?"

Shake her head, Clara. "I'm not clear about what he meant."

Are you sure?

"I avoid lying."

You've done it before.

And you thought every falsehood covered my reality!

Not far away was a siren.

My phone rang.

Unknown amount.

I answered.

There was a voice—deep, calm, and malevolent.

"Come alone if you want her back."

It then dropped.

My knees almost collapsed.

Clara took hold of the phone.

"Who was it?"

"They have her."

"Where?"

"They said nothing." They simply instructed me to arrive on my own.

"You're not going then."

"I have to."

"You go alone; you will never see her again."

Her gaze fixed on my own. Frightened. Strong.

"What do we have to do?" I said softly.

She moved right next door. I could easily detect her perfume. Vanilla and a hint of musk underlie it.

"We travel together." Whichever.

I found myself unable to reason. Not mobile.

She laid her hands on my chest.

Her lips swept across mine. Softer. Terrified.

I planted a kiss back on her. I didn't do it out of love. The fear propels me forward. I can feel the panic coursing through my veins.

We back off.

"Mateo, what should we do if we fail to make it?"

"Don’t say that."

"More than my life, I love her."

Then let us not waste time.

We drove late into the evening. I struggled to decide where to begin. Moreover, it was unclear who we were fighting against.

But one thing I was aware of—

I was ready to bring down this entire city.

I need to help her get back on track.

Even if I had to grow to be the monster I promised I would never be.

What if the scenario extended beyond Emilia?

Suppose someone else was also after Clara?

And what if the person behind it all was nearer than we had ever thought?