HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 18: Who's the Marksman?

Behind Sandro, a group of admirers watches Samuel and Kaylee with amusement, clearly entertained by Sandro's intervention.

"You can't even handle a horse," one man chuckles. "It's no wonder he treats his wife so poorly."

"A poor woman deserves better," says a younger woman. "True men lead with a gentle hand."

"Those who are heavy-handed deserve a taste of their own medicine," adds another woman, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Isn't this man a CEO?" someone laughs. "Let's see if his company survives the year."

Samuel's face turns a deep red, more flushed than I've ever seen.

"Mind your own business, Representative Marcos," he snaps.

Sandro merely shrugs.

I raise my hand to hide my smirk. Samuel deserves more ridicule than this, but it's still gratifying to see him brought down a notch.

"Then don't create such a spectacle," Sandro tells him. He clicks his tongue and gently reins his horse back to where the other patrons are waiting. His admirers follow closely behind.

Stable hands quickly bring Samuel another horse, one he's more familiar with. Sparkle Heart remains grazing peacefully.

Samuel mounts his new horse and extends a hand to help Kaylee up behind him.

"Hold around my waist," Samuel instructs her.

Kaylee complies, flashing me a smug smile and a wink.

Samuel notices me a moment later.

"Oh, Rafha. Are you here alone? Where's your boyfriend?" he asks with a mocking smile.

"Maybe he doesn't exist," Kaylee suggests, prompting Samuel to chuckle.

"Could be. Or he's so low-class he can't attend an event like this."

Anger rises in me, and I retort, "Be careful not to fall off. Samuel, you know your riding skills are lacking."

Samuel's smug grin fades into a dark scowl. Kaylee's smile also falters, likely due to her earlier fall.

Samuel spurs his horse away without another word.

I take his silence as a small victory.

After calming Sparkle Heart, I choose her for the event. Mounted, I head toward the starting point where Cloudine and Mr. Carter are talking, both mounted and holding rifles.

I decline an offered rifle from a club employee. Shooting has never been my passion; riding is. Sparkle Heart has had enough excitement, so a gentle ride through the forest suits us both perfectly.

"Rafha, your idea for a mounted shooting course was brilliant," Mr. Carter says as I join them. "You saved us from either rejecting the Fuentes or breaking the law."

"I'm just glad they agreed to the idea," I respond, not wanting too much credit. It was a team effort.

"Too modest," Cloudine says, shaking her head.

"We've also heeded your warnings. We've had staff patrol the area to ensure no dangerous animals disrupt the event," Mr. Carter continues.

That was a concern. A mounted shooting event through the forest could be thrilling but also risky if animals were startled. We need to avoid an unexpected encounter with bears or coyotes.

"I'm relieved you've taken those precautions," I say.

"Me too," Cloudine adds. "I'd rather not have to shoot an animal to give the Fuentes the hunt they wanted."

"Indeed," Mr. Carter agrees. He spots something ahead and spurs his horse forward. "I think we're about to start. Excuse me." He leaves Cloudine and me alone at the back of the group.

As the riders line up to enter the forest in pairs, with a five-minute gap between each, Cloudine teases, "No need to be embarrassed. If he becomes president, you could write a tell-all memoir and live off the royalties!"

The idea of writing a book about Sandro is so absurd it makes me laugh.

Cloudine grins, clearly pleased. "It's nice to hear you laugh. You've barely smiled in years."

We're near the end of the group and one of the last pairs to enter the forest. I don't have a gun, and Cloudine seems uninterested in shooting. Instead, we take a leisurely ride, with only distant gunfire reminding us of the event's purpose.

"All I'm saying," Cloudine says as we ride, "if this man makes you happy, you should try to keep him around."

"I doubt he's interested in a long-term relationship," I explain. "I'm pretty sure he's just in it for the sex."

"That's how it starts," Cloudine says. "But it doesn't always end there."

I find it hard to believe. Someone like Sandro seems too high-profile to settle for someone like me. I can't voice this to Cloudine; she gets upset when I put myself down.

Trying to shift the topic, I point to a bullseye target high in the trees. So far, only one shot has hit the center.

"I wonder who the marksman is," I say.

"Probably a lucky shot," Cloudine replies. "None of these old-timers actually practice their shooting. Even I'd miss that one."

Cloudine lifts her rifle and takes aim at the target.

As she focuses, I notice movement in the brush. Gleaming eyes catch the light.

That's no deer.

"Cloudine," I say calmly, trying not to alarm her or our horses. "We need to move."

"The other group is still far behind us," Cloudine says, not understanding.

"No," I whisper urgently, "there's something in the bushes..."

"What?" She glances over, and then three things happen simultaneously.

First, a massive wild boar charges out of the brush.

Second, both Cloudine's and my horses bolt forward.

Third, I'm thrown off Sparkle Heart by the sudden burst of speed, landing hard in the dirt—right in the path of the charging boar.