Chapter 87. The Meeting

It had been over thirty-five days since Fiona was first taken to one of Carlos’s new villas upstate. The bullet wound was nothing serious; he’d made sure it was only a light scrape, but she had passed out, more likely from fear than blood loss, and the next day she’d run a fever. It lasted a day and a half, and Carlos had a doctor care for her through it.

She didn’t even seem to notice the doctor’s presence at the time, and after she’d recovered, she began to look rather lifeless. When she’d first arrived, she was full of energy, plotting her next escape with every break of day, and he’d seen brilliance in every attempt she made. It was such a waste that she stuck with her father.

The last time he went into her room, she’d stayed unmoving, staring at the wall. He’d had someone check that she was healthy, and physically she was, but mentally, not so much—which was perfect because that was exactly what he wanted.

“So,” Dahlia said, drawing out the word. “What exactl