The Mafia's Pet

Chapter 27

Vanessa

Yesterday, the remainder of the day was filled with various exercises. When he mentioned "training," I initially assumed it was something sexual, or at least that's what I secretly hoped for. However, it turns out I'm apparently training for the Olympics or some shit. He not only had me lifting weights in his indoor gym, but also made me run laps outside. After helping Diego with his "nightly routine", I crawled into bed and immediately fell asleep. It was likely the quickest I've drifted off since arriving here.

Today, my muscles are screaming in protest. The morning went by smoothly with me sitting in Diego's lap while he fed me. I don't know why he insists on doing that, it's like he has to visually see that I'm eating, and he doesn't trust me to feed myself. I'm beginning to suspect that the punishment from the other night was less about me disrespecting him and more about my poor appetite.

Like sorry, I can't just eat after watching someone get murdered like he can.

After Abuela takes our plate away to wash it, I attempt to rise from his lap, but his grip around my waist tightens. "Stay," he orders calmly.

I let out an exasperated sigh, but eventually ease back into his embrace. "So, what's on the agenda today? Please tell me it's not another fucking marathon training session."

A light chuckle escapes him as he says, "Not today."

Sooo is he not going to tell me or...?

"Why is Alicia allowed back at the club but I'm not?" I ask, folding my arms in protest.

When I found out yesterday that Alicia wasn't on lockdown anymore, I nearly lost my shit, but then he quickly distracted me with his death training. I hope he doesn't think I just forgot about that.

"You're in danger, she's not," he responds matter-of-factly. "Besides, I thought you were enjoying our time together. It certainly seemed like it yesterday morning."

A flush burns my cheeks as vivid memories of that morning flood my mind. But before I can point out it was before he subjected me to physical torture, one of his staff members enters the room. "Mr. Reyes, Ms. Camila is here," she announces professionally.

Who's that?

"Maravilloso (wonderful)." Gently, he lifts me off his lap and strides into the living room, my curiosity leading me closely behind. A petite woman approaches him, planting kisses on his cheeks. When he reciprocates the gesture, a surge of jealousy courses through me, an all-too-familiar feeling whenever he engages with another woman. However, this time it intensifies; there's a certain gentleness in his eyes when he looks at her that I haven't witnessed with anyone else.

No seriously, who the hell is she, and why is she here?

Knowing no one will provide me with answers, I observe them silently. They exchange hushed words in Spanish, which only heightens my irritation since I don't understand a single word. The woman is striking, with flowing black hair and eyes reminiscent of a doe. She appears to be around Alicia's age, perhaps a couple of years younger.

My blood is boiling by the time they finish their conversation, and he starts sauntering towards his office down the hall. "Behave yourself, Mama, and you may earn another reward," he remarks, leaving me seething with unanswered questions.

As soon as he closes the door shut to his office, Camila's voice pierces through the air, "Bring in everything. I don't have all day to get this shit done." Her words snap with authority, setting an immediate tone of urgency. In response, three men swiftly enter, each carrying armfuls of long, vibrant dresses. Their movements are swift, executed with a precision that implies that if anything is done incorrectly, there will be consequences. The air bristles with tension as they navigate through the room.

She turns sharply toward me. "Strip. I have a plane to catch in four hours, that means we need to be done in two," she orders.

"Uh, what's going on?" I ask, still utterly confused.

"Strip, or I'll do it for you," she threatens menacingly.

Reluctantly, I comply, and Camila proceeds to make me try on dress after dress, each one promptly removed by one of the men as soon as I've tried it on. I'm so bewildered that I don't even have the chance to be angry about what they're doing.

"What is this for?" I finally manage to ask as I notice that this is the final dress she's forcing me to try on.

She records my measurements on her iPad while one of the men wraps a tape measure around different parts of my body. "Diego attends a lot of events. He called me to make sure you were prepared for an important one."

I furrow my brows. "You have to measure me for a party dress? Isn't that a bit much?"

She glances up at me with a stern look on her face. "You will be seen with one of the wealthiest men in Nevada. Would you like to look anything but perfect?"

Realization dawns on me, and I mumble, "Oh, that makes sense."

He did say he wants me by his side now. I guess that includes going to fancy outings and stuff now. I should be excited...right?

Camila's gaze intensifies, as if she's on a mission to unravel every one of my secrets. "You're very beautiful. I can see why Diego has taken a liking to you."

I snort. "He doesn't like me, I'm just here for one purpose."

A purpose I'm beginning to desire more and more each day.

"He can get whores anywhere," she states matter-of-factly. "I've never seen him take a day off from managing his properties, but he's here with you. That must mean something."

She speaks of him as though their history is extensive, and I can't help but wonder if she's another one of his past lovers. He seems to have a lot of those.

With sympathy in her eyes, she begins, "Look, Diego has had a very traumatic life. I know he may be scary as hell at times, but given his lifestyle, he has to be. Believe me, beneath all of that macho steel, he's a good man with a big heart. I think you bring out his gentler side."

I blink. What?