CHAPTER 4: ELSA

Over the past six months since Oliver betrayed me, I've become a shadow of my former self and that's saying a lot. Oliver hasn't called me either but I've had the time to heal past the betrayal no matter how difficult it has been. I thought things were tough for me all these years, it's nothing compared to how I've been treated these past few months.

Lisa never failed to remind me of how I was fucking with her boyfriend. She called me a slut at every chance she got and often said things like “You didn't think anyone would ever love you when you look like that, did you?” 

Her snarky comments always hit home. I know I'm not in the category of the regular slim build most girls usually weigh. I've always been… curvier than others and I wish it wasn't so. It's hard to love my body when everyone around me reminds me of how ‘fat’ I am.

That's one of the reasons I loved Oliver. I thought he saw me for…me. He never called me fat and he made me feel wanted. At least that was what I thought. I guess I was just too blind to see the real deal. 

We accept the love we think we deserve. 

Life has become unbearable here and it seems like Stepdad has only gotten angrier. He hits me at any slight opportunity he gets and I'm beginning to think it has to do with much more than my failed attempt to escape. 

Today's experience has been the worst, so far. As usual, he came back drunk tonight and requested a different meal instead of what I'd already prepared for dinner. He wanted to have steaks and mashed potatoes but we had the last steaks two nights ago and I haven't been able to go grocery shopping yet. 

He got back by 10 p.m. and the supermarket usually closed by 9 so I suggested he manage the dinner in front of him just for tonight since it was already too late to see any open supermarkets. As soon as I'd made the suggestion, he backed me up to the wall and raised an actual gun at me.

I was beyond petrified. I have never seen a gun up close before and if not for his forearms that held me against the wall, God knows I would have fainted right there on the spot.

“Never talk back to me.” He had said. I never talked back to him, all I did was make a suggestion but I wasn't about to say that to his face. Not when death was staring at me up close.

So much more could have happened but then mom came downstairs so he let go of me and hid the gun. I left them and ran into my room, locking the door shut behind me as I tried to regain my composure.

Maybe for once, I'm actually grateful for Mom's presence in my life. Just this once. 

It has been a long day for me so the instant I lie on the bed, I'm knocked out almost immediately. But I'm woken from my sleep sometime in the middle of the night when my door flies open and two men in black suits walk into my room holding guns.

I immediately sit up in confusion and fright. Maybe I'm dreaming? Maybe I got so scared because of the gun pointed at me earlier that my dreams constructed two more.

I'm still having internal debates with myself when the men lift me from either side and drag me out of my room.

“Hey!” I shriek when I realize that I'm very much awake and I'm getting kidnapped. “Put me down.” But they don't regard me. They're so strong, my trashing has nothing on their stronghold on my arms.

The sitting room comes into view and the first people I see are my mom, my stepfather, and Lisa on their knees at the center of the room. They seem equally as scared and confused as me. Are we getting robbed? 

By men in suits? Very unlikely. 

About Four more men are in black suits as well and are standing at every corner of the sitting room, while the last of them is sitting on the armrest of the couch as he lights a cigar in his mouth. He's equally clad in black and his appearance is more distinct from the others which tells me he must be the leader. But what do they want from us?

Oh God, please spare me. I deserve so much more from life.

I'm brought closer to who I assume to be their leader and without warning, the huge men dump me at their boss's feet. I scramble away from him immediately but I don't get too far because I bump into one of the men who hijacked me here.

“This is the last of them, boss.” The one behind me says and steps back away from me a little.

“Mr Sandoval...” Comes my stepfather's shaky voice. I've never seen him this way before so seeing how jumpy he is now makes me wonder how much trouble we must be in.

I freeze when I realize the name mentioned. Sandoval. That's a name not many people like to mention. Could this be… 

 “I didn't…”

“What? You didn't think I would come for my money myself?” Mr Sandoval cuts in. “You didn't think I would find you?” The way his brown eyes dim and the corner of his mouth lifts with irritation makes me almost pee my pants. I have never seen a being more frightening in my entire life. 

What has Dad done?

Dad shakes his head in horror and the move reminds me of the position he had me in earlier tonight. I know it's not a good time to say this but how the roles have reversed.

“I was going to contact Robbie but I lost his number.” Even I know that he's lying.

“Where's my $900,000, Richard?” He asks in a completely cool tone, one would think they were discussing the weather over a can of beer each in their hands. My eyes nearly pop out of its socket at the price Mr Sandoval just mentioned. 

“I…I'll get it, Mr Sandoval. I just need a little time please.”

“Time's not on your side.” Mr Sandoval states and looks around the house for a minute before his eyes turn back to my stepfather. “I can see you're a family man. That's why you won your house back from the bet at Flores’ casino.” 

What?!

I'm glad to find out I'm not the only surprised one this time around. Mom and Lisa stare at Dad in disbelief.

“I thought you said you were done gambling.” Comes mom's hushed tone.

“Not now, Mel.” 

All eyes once again turn to Mr Sandoval when he gets up from the chair and adjusts his black coat on his over 6 ft build. He's an impossibly handsome man, it's unlike anything I've ever seen.

His dark hair is roughly slicked back, almost like he has a habit of raking his fingers through them. They're beautiful and it adds so much poise and youth to him. From looking at him alone, I can feel the insurmountable power that he commands. It's impeccable.

His chiseled face boasts of a well-defined jaw line which stands out sharply and is home to short beards. The frown on his face is what makes him seem rigid. I can't help but think that if he relaxes his features a bit, he might seem more approachable. But maybe he doesn't want that.

“I think I ought to thank Flores for letting you get out of the bet with your house, unscathed, considering it has piqued my interest.” Mr Sandoval continues. “Carlos, It's a very wonderful property, don't you think?” 

“Extremely, boss.” 

“See?” His eyes flick to my face for a second before he looks at the others too. “I give you three months to come up with my money, Richard. If you pass the time frame, I'll have to take your home and kill you all, I'm afraid. Three months is more than enough time to get the money. After all, you sold my drugs in less than that.”

So it is him. 

I know he just said he would kill every one of us but I can't help but dwell on the fact that a legend is standing in our living room.

Javier Sandoval. His name comes with so many titles. 

The most feared and dangerous man in the entire North America, and that's saying a lot. His name alone has a reputation for instilling fear and commanding power. 

He's also called the richest man in Mexico. Known for running two empires, one of which he built single-handedly; real estate and property development. 

My late dad called him the biggest drug lord after Pablo Escober and Javier Sandoval was just 22 years old as of then. The books I read said he took over the cartel at just 18 years old and did more than his late father's younger brother, Juan Sandoval, had ever achieved, only within a year. If my calculations are correct, he should be 36 years old as of now. 

Javier Sandoval is a name we only got to hear. The only people who saw his face or knew him on a personal level were those who worked with and for him. Family members included.

Now, my point exactly is that of all people to steal from, it had to be the one man known and feared by all. From the little I've seen of Javier Sandoval, he definitely lives up to his reputation of being ruthless and without mercy. 

I must have missed something amidst my train of thought because my stepfather suddenly runs up to me and hugs me tight. I freeze in my position on the floor at the queer feeling.

“No, please! Don't take her.” 

Don't take who? What did I miss?

My eyes find Javier's face and then his men and like a tsunami, my heart instantly flares up with panic when I realize what has just happened.

One minute, Javier is nodding in my direction and the next, Carlos is picking me up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Did my stepfather just use me as bait? He pretended to care for me so it would seem like I'm the valuable child. His pretense took the attention off Lisa and Mom. 

My writhing and trashing has nothing against Carlos’ large frame as he waits for Javier to exit the sitting room so he can follow suit. 

But Javier pauses mid-way, turns around, and sends two shots of bullets which hits my stepfather's right leg. He falls to the ground in agony, screaming his lungs out.

I look at Mom as Carlos exits the room. She's tending to Dad as she sees what she can do to nurse his wound. What she doesn't do is to spare her daughter a glance as she's being taken away by dangerous men. At this moment, I vow now more than ever to hate the woman who birthed me. Even in death. 

My mind goes numb to every other thing that happens after I'm taken away. I know I'm as good as dead now and I can only hope death visits me much sooner before these men can break my spirit. 

I've just been taken as collateral damage, and there's nothing I can do about it.