Chapter 37
The estate looked different tonight. Not beautiful nor elegant. Not in the least bit safe. Tonight, it looked dangerous. Every shadow felt alive as I moved carefully through the corridor, dressed entirely in black from head to toe.
The soft fabric clung close enough to avoid sound while I walked. Even my hair was hidden beneath a dark scarf. My breathing remained shallow as I stepped out into the open air. All it would take was one wrong step or a guard spotting me. One mistake. I listened and crept on in silence.
I'd noticed the increase in the patrol guards over the past week. Mr. Montoya's trust and patience were stretched thin each passing day. Somehow, that made the entire estate feel tighter, controlled, and suffocating. Like the walls themselves watched.
As I avoided the moonlight, streetlights, and patrol guards, my fingers clutched the folded note hidden inside my sleeve. The note that shouldn't have existed. I still didn't understand how it had gotten into my room.
Hours earlier, I had returned after dinner to find it resting perfectly at the center of my bed. There was no sign of forced entry. Nothing disturbed—just a small black envelope marked with a single symbol burned into the paper: a serpent curled around a dagger. Mr. Fernando.
Inside the envelope were only four words: East garden pathway. Midnight.
No signature. No explanation. That had frightened me more than if there had been one. Fernando's reach extended inside this estate further than I had imagined. Someone had entered my room unnoticed. Someone had walked through Mr. Montoya's heavily guarded mansion without detection. That thought alone made my skin crawl.
I moved quickly along the side pathway and consciously kept close to the hedges. I walked on for a long while.
Somewhere above me stood Mr. Montoya's penthouse balcony, though I never looked up long enough to notice it. I paused and looked about to check if I'd been followed. Satisfied, I moved swiftly ahead.
The East Garden pathway was almost never used at night—too isolated and quiet. My heartbeat thudded painfully as I traced my steps through the old stone fountain hidden near the edge of the garden maze.
I stopped moving. Someone was already there. A hooded figure stood near the fountain without moving, so completely still it seemed to have waited for hours.
Fear crawled slowly down my spine, and I questioned my reasoning for acknowledging this meeting. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The wind shifted softly through the trees. Then I swallowed hard and forced the words out carefully:
"The moon sees what the sun hides."
Silence greeted the words Fernando schooled me to memorize on the day of my abduction. "Only if it survives the night," the figure answered quietly. My pulse skipped. There was something familiar about the voice. Too familiar.
"Did you come alone?" the figure asked.
"Yes," I nodded. The hooded figure remained still for another second before stepping slightly closer. "Fernando's losing patience," the hooded one's words landed heavily in my chest. "I'm still hunting for information. Tell him I need a few days," I whispered harshly.
"No, it's not enough," it said. My jaw tightened. "What do you mean? He said he needed information about any suspicious deaths that happened a few years back, and also details about the estate," I retorted. "He needs more now," the figure said matter-of-factly.
Something cold settled in my stomach. The figure reached slowly into its coat and removed a small black pouch before holding it out before me.
"What's that?" I asked cautiously without touching the pouch.
"Listening devices," the hooded figure simply replied.
Fear flashed through me, and I asked, "You want me to plant those here?"
"Yes," it said.
"I don't know how to," I argued.
"There are instructions inside," the voice insisted and urged me to take the pouch. "I'm not doing it," the refusal escaped instantly.
"You refused too quickly."
"Because this is insane," I hissed quietly. "Mr. Montoya already suspects something," I said.
"He suspects everyone," the voice cajoled.
"That's exactly the problem," I said, exasperated.
Silence followed briefly.
"You'll place them where instructed," the figure said in an edgy tone.
Another item appeared from inside the coat: folded little papers this time.
"Fernando also wants copies of specific ledgers from the East Wing study."
My chest tightened. Mr. Montoya barely allowed staff near there.
"You're asking me to walk directly into a death sentence," I pointed out.
"You're being dramatic," the hooded one chuckled, and I laughed softly in disbelief.
"Dramatic?" I repeated softly. "Do you understand what happens if I'm caught? Why didn't Mr. Fernando ask these things of you instead? You definitely have the balls."
The hooded figure stepped closer.
"You're forgetting who you owe your loyalty to," the voice fumed. My expression hardened.
"No," I replied quietly. "I remember perfectly. And that's Mr. Montoya."
Even as I said that, I could remember Fernando's men and how they'd been so sorely vexed that they'd all voted to kill me. The memory terrified me half to death. Then Mr. Fernando had smiled pleasantly while turning my fear into obligation.
It had been rumored that Mr. Montoya killed half the men who had broken in that day.
"You owe him," the figure continued. Anger flickered sharply inside me.
"Owe him? For what exactly? For dragging me into this mess?" I whisper-yelled.
"Watch your tone," the hooded one said.
"No. You watch yours. I never agreed to become a spy," I snapped back.
"You agreed the moment you accepted his protection," the voice pointed out.
My breathing became uneven. The figure extended the pouch again.
"There's one more instruction," it said. I stared, waiting silently.
"The night guards near the Eastern route rotate every two hours. Fernando needs ten uninterrupted minutes."
Ice slid through my veins.
"And what does that mean?" I asked.
"You'll drug the replacement security team," the hooded one drawled. I instantly stepped back.
"No."
The refusal came harder this time. Absolute and immediate: "No!"
The hooded figure remained motionless. "You're being emotional."
"You want me to poison the guards inside the estate!"
"Not poison. Sedate."
"That changes absolutely nothing. I won't do it," I declared.
At that declaration, a dangerous, heavy silence fell. The figure studied me carefully beneath the hood.
"You've grown attached," the hooded figure accused.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked in mild confusion.
"You hesitate every time his name comes up."
"This has nothing to do with him," I argued angrily. Even to my ears, it sounded a bit too defensive.
"Really?" the hooded one asked. I looked away sharply.
The silence betrayed me more than words could. They gave a low hum.
"Fernando hinted at this," the hooded figure said testily.
I frowned immediately and asked, "What does that mean?"
Instead of answering, the figure stepped closer again.
"Don't confuse temporary kindness for safety, Alice."
Kindness. The word almost made me laugh. Mr. Montoya was many things; kind wasn't one of them. But somehow… somehow the thought of betraying him twisted something painfully inside me. Maybe because of Serena. Maybe because of Carlitos.
The hood shifted slightly as the figure turned its head. "Are you afraid of him now, Mr. Montoya?" it asked cautiously. I swallowed hard. "Yes." "And yet you still refuse, Fernando," the hooded figure said in an incredulous tone.
That frightened me more than anything else. The hooded one might be right. It stepped closer once more. "You'll eventually have to choose a side," it warned quietly.
"I already have."
"No," the voice replied calmly. "You're standing in the middle. People standing in the middle usually die first."
The words settled heavily between us. Then suddenly, the wind blew harder. The hood shifted, just slightly. But enough. My eyes widened instantly. Recognition hit so hard my breath caught.
"Jojo?" I whispered inaudibly to myself. The figure moved immediately and adjusted the hood back into place. Shock rooted me to where I stood. One of Nina's close friends. One of the women constantly around her. Inside the estate. Mr. Montoya had been right to be suspicious after all. My stomach twisted painfully.
"I'll deliver your response to Fernando," she said briskly.
"I said no," I reiterated.
"And I heard you," she replied calmly, and I became more frightened than if she'd replied in anger.
She sounded like refusal wasn't final and that Fernando would get me to comply.
"Be careful, Alice," she said, stepping back into the darkness and disappearing.
I froze. One second she was there, and the next, nothing. No footsteps or movement. Just darkness. Fear slid coldly through my body as I stared at the empty garden.
When I finally forced myself to turn away, my thoughts spiraled violently. Fernando wanted deeper access now. This was no longer information gathering; this was preparation for something bigger—something dangerous.
I wrapped my hands tighter around myself and walked faster through the pathway. My breathing remained uneven. I barely noticed where I was going anymore, which was why I slammed directly into something hard.
A wall.
No. Not a wall. A strong, solid, warm body. Fear immobilized me instantly. Slowly, I raised my eyes upwards. Dark clothing. Broad shoulders.
The familiar deep voice spoke directly above me, "You're a long way from your room, Alice."
My blood turned cold. Mr. Montoya. I couldn't breathe properly. Moonlight touched the sharp edge of his expression as he looked down at me. Calm, composed, dangerous. Then he smirked.
"I have no other choice," he said quietly, "but to punish you."