VanessaA low growl emanates from his chest as Diego's jaw tightens in restrained frustration, his piercing gaze intensifying. "Enough! Time to put that filthy mouth of yours to better use," he declares, his voice low and commanding. He utters something in Spanish to Abuela, who remains in the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returns, carrying what appears to be a dog bowl filled with steak bites, mashed potatoes, and corn. Diego takes a seat, and she places the bowl beside his chair on the floor. Her expression remains stoic as she responds in their native language before quietly exiting the room. "Eat your dinner, Mascota," he orders harshly, not sparing a glance in my direction as he begins digging into his own plate. A wave of fear washes over me as I realize he's not dismissing his men. This is another punishment, done in front of others, meant to degrade and humiliate me. I glance around, searching for a sympathetic gaze among the men, but their eyes are averted, unwilling to
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