Mariana’s Pov“Why did you bring me here?”My voice is accusing as I ask the question, my eyes tight, void of emotions. Alejandro’s Adam's apple bobs, an indication that a thick lump just slid down his throat.Then he smiles. He doesn’t know it, but the smile seems forced. “I’ve told you a million times, Mariana,” he says, his tone firm, robotic, “I want us to live freely for at least one week.”And that’s how I know he’s lying.Alejandro might be dangerous, but he has a casual persona. The type of man to wear a matching set of sweat shirt and pants in a room full of formally dressed men. The type of man to pull a trigger with a smile on his face. But his sudden seriousness when I ask my question is enough to sell him out. He’s suddenly defensive, and when one becomes defensive, something is amiss.“Cut the crap,” I murmur, my voice inaudible.“What was that?” Alejandro’s voice is low, sharp. It cuts through the air like a blade. His eyes are on mine, waiting, daring me to answer.I
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