Sold To Mr. Milano (Evil Empires Book 1) Read online

  Sold To Mr. Milano

  Daniella Wright

  Prologue

  Alicia

  Looking out over the sprawling plains and mountains of our country, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of both warmth and dread. I loved Argentina, and I loved fighting for the best interest of our people. And it’s not that I didn’t feel gratified from accompanying my father on his work...Quite the opposite actually. It gave me a sense of purpose and made me feel like I was truly following in his footsteps. Together, maybe we could really change things.

  But sometimes the troubles seemed too big. For every small victory, there was a mountain of new obstacles waiting behind it. I was starting to wonder if we could ever make a dent in all the injustices my father had shown me through his work.

  “Don’t look so glum, mi dulce hija,” he smiled over at me from the driver’s seat. “Aren’t you excited for the opportunity to help me call Alberto Milano out on his dirty dealings?”

  “Of course,” I answered sincerely, feeling a renewed hatred for Mr. Milano welling up inside.

  My father - Don Martino, also known as “The Great Detective”, was a legend. Alberto Milano was one of his biggest nemesis. He broke a myriad of laws that sent my father chasing after him, usually with me by his side when it wasn’t too dangerous for him to allow.

  Before I could even begin to express the heaviness in my heart to my father, we arrived at Albert Milano’s newest purchase of land. If anyone could understand the feelings of defeat and hopelessness that set in from time to time when you are a public servant, it was Don Martino - my beloved papa. But we had more pressing matters in front of us.

  My father had come to investigate Alberto’s land, which he suspected was acquired by force. With the ever-growing population of homeless people in Argentina, the government has placed restrictions on how land can be purchased. Rich landowners and gangsters like Alberto Milano had taken to using violence and threats to intimidate poor, hardworking Argentinians out of their lands, some of which had been in their families for generations. They would throw them insultingly small amounts of money as an empty gesture of pity. But those people were not paid for their land. They were forced to leave for fear of their lives.

  The prohibitions were put into effect as those acts of violence became more commonplace, and it was one of my father’s many jobs to go and investigate the purchases, looking for any clues that something illegal might have taken place. Having been a long time enemy of Alberto’s, he was especially excited to follow up on any of his new land acquisitions. Although usually, these visits proved to be in vain. Alberto was very skilled at his kind of business and knew how to cover his tracks well. It was nearly impossible to pin him for anything.

  I followed behind my father as he approached the ranch door. Sometimes following him around was scary, but I was used to it by now. My mother died giving birth to me in America. As a single father, Don Martino knew he had to bring me back to his country to raise me. He was well-known and respected here and wanted me to know the roots of my culture. I had been following him around on the job most of my life, and now, at age eighteen, I could finally delve deeper into the work I was raised to believe in. I wanted to be just like my father - helping people and bringing justice to them.

  “Wait here,” Papa told me as we got closer to the small house.

  “What? No!” I fumed. “What am I here for if not to confront Alberto with you?”

  He suddenly grew very stern in a way that I didn’t often see, but when I did - I knew he meant business.

  “You don’t know Alberto Milano the way I do,” he barked through clenched teeth. “I let you come along, but I didn’t say you could go banging on his door with me. There are other sides to an investigation, Alicia. You should know that by now. Go look around the property...in an innocent-seeming way. See what you can find.”

  I nodded, feeling a little bad that I had questioned him. He wasn’t one to be too overprotective. If he was keeping me back from something, there was a good reason. I let him march on to the door without me before turning to survey the scene. I could hear Alberto’s deep booming voice as he answered, feigning niceties for now. But it didn’t take long for their talk to escalate. Alberto hated my father, and he hated anyone who went snooping around in his business.

  But as I looked around the land we were investigating, the weight from earlier lifted. It was obviously well cared for and had been in use for a very long time. It was typical for this kind of thing. Argentinians depended on their land for farming and their livelihood. They were honest and hardworking people, never wanting more than what they had, which wasn’t a lot but was rich with history and meaning. Then heartless men like Alberto who are the exact opposite in every way came blazing in to steal it right out from under them.

  Each step I took across the rich, tended soil made me hate Alberto more. Men like him built their family businesses on breaking the rules, and innocent people were always the ones who were left to pay the price. Without people like my father, men like the Milanos would run everything without apology or repercussion. They would sweep in and take over every last square inch of beautiful lands like this. Everyone else be damned.

  As my father continued with his questioning, and Alberto continued fighting him on every word, I ventured out further. Thankfully his men were on high alert with their altercation, staying near the house in case anything should get out of hand. Nobody seemed to notice me poking around, but I made sure to look naively curious anyway.

  Suddenly, I heard something rustling a few feet away. I whipped around, expecting to see a rabbit or a deer scurrying off, but instead caught sight of a small boy. He was young - too young to be safely snooping around here. He seemed frantic as he ran back and forth, staring intently at the ground. He was talking to himself in a panicked whimper as he searched through bushes and patches of grass.

  “Hey,” I called out quietly, taking care not to bring any attention to us from Alberto’s guards. “You there. What are you doing here?”

  He froze when he saw me with a sharp gasp. I could tell he was thinking of taking off running as I walked closer to him.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” I offered gently. “But it isn’t safe here. This is Alberto Milano’s property now. Why are you here?”

  “My sister’s doll,” he replied, on the verge of sobbing. “She won’t stop crying without it. Our grandmother made it for her. She never goes anywhere without it, but...we had to leave so quickly. Our parents snatched us up, barely giving us time to pack.”

  My heart broke as he told me his story. I knew this was about something much deeper than a doll. These poor children had been suddenly ripped away from the only homes they knew, without warning or explanation. The parents likely couldn’t bring themselves to make up any kind of reason for their move. The real reasons behind it were too shameful and scary for children to understand. This doll was his only way to comfort his sister. The only way for either of them to cling to what they once knew.

  I straightened with resolve, feeling much less cautious than before. This little boy could tell my father what he told me. It’d help him prove the land was acquisitioned through force. Don Martino would see to it that the previous owners’ rights were restored, and he’d make sure they were protected. I didn’t feel like I needed to be afraid anymore. We weren’t standing on Alberto’s property. This land belonged to this little boy.

  “I will help you,” I assured the boy. “Will you wait here? I have someone I want you to talk to. My father. He is a good man. He can help you and your family. Then we can make sure we find your sister’s doll. Okay?”

  H
e looked terrified but nodded anyway. I am sure, if nothing else, his parents warned him of what could happen if he ever came back here. I squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes, trying my best to make him understand that I wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Then, I started off back towards the house.

  “Father!” I boldly yelled out once I was within a few feet of Alberto’s door. He turned around looking very alarmed, cross, and confused. I had disobeyed him by marching up to them like this, but he also knew I wouldn’t do so without a very good reason.

  “Alicia. What is it?” he murmured in a hushed tone.

  “I have reason to believe that this man, Alberto Milano, has acquired this land by force...which is against the law,” I proclaimed confidently, pointing my finger directly at Alberto himself.

  A wave of conflicting emotions washed over my father’s face. Alberto’s men whispered among themselves, waiting to see what their boss would do. And as for Alberto...I could tell I took him by surprise. He gave me a scoffing laugh as we stared each other down.

  I intended to storm up on them, seeming brave and fearless. I wanted these men to know I was powerful, and that I intended to carry on my father’s work long after he was gone. When their enemy Don Martino retired, they would still have Alicia Guevara to worry about.

  But I froze the moment Alberto and I came face to face. He was a very tall, large man, which I expected from the stories I had heard. However, he was also much younger than I imagined. He was unexpectedly handsome with a certain alluring charm, which I was determined not to fall prey to the way everyone else did. Beyond all of that was a startling presence that shone out through his dark eyes. He was an intimidating force of a man, even when he was just leaning in a doorway. I didn’t know if it was my fear of him or this strange attraction to him that had me so taken back.

  “This is quite the woman you have here as your daughter, Don Martino,” Alberto said with an almost stunned expression. He was impressed with me - I could tell. But mostly, he just wanted to agitate my father, who couldn’t stand to see Alberto’s eyes looking me up and down.

  So he turned his attention back to me, the only thing he had any control over. “You can prove what you say?” my father asked.

  “Yes. Over there. He described how his family had to leave…,” I pointed behind me, but was cut off by muffled laughter amongst the men. When I turned to look for the boy, he was gone. “No, he was just right there. I can tell you everything.”

  I started looking all around, but it was too late. The boy had vanished, and I had already called out Alberto. He had people killed for less, or so it was rumored. You couldn’t call out a man’s honor without proof to back it up.

  “She’s spirited, isn’t she?” Alberto grunted towards my father, but his eyes were glued to me.

  It was as if he could see straight through me, but maybe not through to nothingness. No, it seemed he was studying me from the inside out. Assembling all of my pieces together one by one until he understood me. I imagined that was how he cut people down so well. He could read them well enough to tear them apart. I waited for him to say something vicious and cruel, but his intensity suddenly faded.

  “If that is all of your questions for now, Great Detective,” he mocked. “And if your sharp-tongued daughter has no more ghosts of little boys to send us after...Can we be finished with all of this? I am a busy man. I don’t have time to stand here all day while you attempt to drag my name through the mud.”

  My father nodded, knowing there was nothing more we could do for today. “This isn’t over yet, Alberto. We will continue our investigation of this transaction.”

  “By all means...please do, Don Martino,” he replied in a smooth, smug tone.

  But as my father and I turned to leave, I could feel Alberto’s eyes still burning into my relentlessly. The feeling he gave me stuck for days. I couldn’t stop wondering what happened to that little boy. I hoped he got afraid and ran off, and that one of Milano’s men didn’t catch on and do something to him. I couldn’t bear to know any harm had come to him because of me. The mere possibility made me hate Alberto even more.

  Then there was Alberto’s haunting stare...the way his eyes glinted at me with surprise and curiosity, even if he kept it cleverly hidden. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wasn’t sure if it was from the way his looks caught me by surprise, or if it was over my anger and disappointment that he got away with everything once again.

  1

  Alberto

  8 years later….

  The aisles of the black market were a lot like the underbelly of a livestock auction. The long dark, dingy building with concrete floors dripped from hoses that sprayed away bile and mess, but the odor still hung heavy in the air. Seedy looking, revolting toothless men gathered at roughly built wooden tables to make their deals. I could barely stand to look at them. We may have had some things in common with our business dealings, but at least I kept myself clean and took care to wear nice clothes. But that was what separated respected and feared men like myself from trash like them.

  I had come here to track down a young man who knew too much. He witnessed a violent crime by one of the men who worked for me, and he was a bold rebel who threatened to testify against us. All the power I had obtained didn’t come without consequences. There were long lists of people constantly waiting to pounce on any chance to bring me down.

  Thankfully, this man may have been taken care of for us. We heard rumors that he had gotten wrapped up with the wrong company and had been swindled off into an underground slave trade. Probably not by accident as I doubted I was the only man he had threatened. But I needed to see it for myself to be sure. I was never one for leaving loose ends untied. That’s the kind of mistake that ruined greater men than myself.

  But the difference between the livestock sales and the black market were clear as you made your way through the aisles of dingy, rusted cages. Staring back at you from inside were different kinds of animals...they were human beings. It was not a sight that hit me as hard as it might some. That’s why I was even allowed in places like this, to begin with. You had to have a cold heart and a strong stomach for cruelty to be able to walk through here.

  The smell of vomit and excrement was almost enough to make you forget you felt sorry for the poor souls trapped behind the bars. It was easier to shield your mouth and nose with a handkerchief and keep moving through on your business, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. I was happy enough to do just that. I didn’t have time to waste. I was here for one reason and one reason only.

  Once I saw that this young lad had been swallowed up into this dark underworld, I’d know we had nothing to worry about and could move onto other things. Whatever fate awaited him outside these walls wouldn’t be good, and it’d be short-lived, which I was inclined to say he deserved for threatening me and my men. I could be an understanding man, but not when it came to someone who tried to intimidate us or prevent us from doing our work.

  I made my way to the portion of cages where I knew the younger, healthier men were held. They’d likely be sold off into slave labor until they died of exhaustion or their bodies gave out. I looked through the faces of the dirty, scared men who scowled back at me, trying to spot the guy who fit the description Pablo and Felix gave me.

  But as I scoured through their features, a screaming sound pulled my attention to the cage at the end of the line. I stopped cold at the sight of a woman being tossed around by the guards. It was not an uncommon thing to see here, but I could see the rounded pregnant belly poking out from her stained and ripped shirt, which was the only thing she was wearing aside from a pair of panties. The curves of her muscular exposed legs were shining with sweat and dirt as she struggled to break free from the guards who were tormenting her.

  They were grabbing at her through the bars, attempting to rip away what was left of her already shredded clothing. You could see she had a considerable amount of spunk, even in her condition, she spit and bit an
d clawed back at them, doing her best to keep their hands off. I was pulled into the scene by force, finding my legs gravitating towards them beyond my control.

  It wasn’t an uncommon thing to see around here by any means. It was one of many horrific sights I had been hardened to long ago. But even I wasn’t heartless. I had never seen a pregnant woman treated this way that I could remember, and it was hard to ignore. I walked closer, feeling frozen inside. I didn’t know what to say or do. All I could do was watch. It wasn’t like me not to be able to turn my head and just keep walking. It was none of my business anyway, but nonetheless, something lured me in and made me feel like it was very much my business.

  As I came within feet of the bars she was caged within, she turned suddenly. She was on high alert in her defense against them and could instantly spot a new figure appearing in the corner of her eye. Her head whipped around to gauge the newly added threat, but we were both stunned into stillness as our eyes met.

  I knew this woman. I would never forget that face. Many years ago she had accompanied her father to investigate one of my newly purchased properties. She accused me of obtaining the land by force, and she was right. I rarely forgot anyone who spoke against me, especially not the daughter of one of my nemesis...Don Martino. “The Great Detective” as they called him had been after me and my business deals for as long as I could remember.

  But it was even more rare, maybe even unheard of, for a woman to stand up to me. I remembered being both outraged and impressed by her all at once. It was no wonder she found herself pregnant and locked up in this pit. I figured that mouth and spirit of hers would get her into trouble, I just didn’t know what kind.

  She stared back at me with seething hazel eyes. Somehow despite being humiliated and sullied by this place and whatever put her here, she was still fiercely beautiful in a disarming way. The rage she glared at me with only seemed to intensify her enchanting look.