-> synopsis: what would happen if you got kidnapped due to a deal gone wrong?
-> format: imagine/short story.
-> theme: angst w/ conflicting ending.
-> warnings: mature language, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of violence, mentions of cartel activities.
-> authors note: sorry for my lack of updates, I'm currently on holiday!! I'm catching up though, hope you enjoy! 𝐕𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 🌸
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, with Armando out with his crew, you was left with your two kids: Isabella and Alejandro. With the littlest girl sleeping, you was perked up on the couch with Alejandro who was playing with his trains.
The translucent curtains allowed a dimmed version of a sunbeam to shine throughout the old money house, the classic elements of the pillars and brick walls being lit up throughout the process. The architectural style being your idea, loving the thought of elegance combined with the old style. Your design coming to life due to your husband: Armando.
You found out what Armando's real life was after a year of dating. Devastated, you ran away, needing some space after the web of lies that was just uncovered. But there was a problem.
Who has ever successfully hid from the cartel?
A couple of days passed and a knock was heard on your cabin door, your new house for a while which allowed you to gather your thoughts about the revelation. Confused, you slowly moved to the window to look outside at who it was. However, the positioning of the wooden panelled window did not give you the angle to see who was standing at the door. Sighing while turning the knob, it was no surprise to who it was.
Armando Aretas. His tall, muscular build towering over you as he waits silently for you to speak. His face doesn't show an ounce of anger, more so, shame. His broad arm pointed to a space behind you, showing it to be a seat as he implies if he's allowed inside. Shaking your head, you walk over to your living space as he follows behind. Not before ordering his two men to wait out there. He's a high profile man, he always needs an entourage.
Sitting down, he rubs his palms together while messing with his ring on the index finger. The ring was beautiful, showing its realness as each intricate diamond glistened, even with the absence of sunlight to accentuate it. On the sides of the ring was his name and his mother's: Isabella. A heart separated him and her name.
