Page 110 of Game of Revenge

He came and held me in his arms while I cried for his brother’s murderer.

He told me he loved me.

He loved me.

His words, not my imagination. I burned to tell him the same, but the idea that I would put my heart in his hands took over, and I couldn’t say it. I asked him for time, and he gave it to me.

I had established my place on my company’s board, with my eyes on a position in the executive office when I had enough experience under my belt. For now, there was a close-to-clean slate of the board of directors and officers.

I also had decided to sell the house. It was way too big anyway. I had sort of started to search for my dream house. I would get something smaller, more my style, somewhere by the beach, and Martha would come with me.

But for now, I was on vacation, by myself, enjoying all the wine Napa had to offer. I had booked a nice villa in a five-star, all-inclusive resort that was associated exclusively with my favorite California vineyard, Robledo Estates.

I had arranged a few wine tours and visits for the week. I was having brunch with Francesca, a wonderful woman I had run into on my first day in Napa. I had met her in the lobby as I was checking in. We instantly connected and spent the last few days drinking and eating together. Francesca had explained that this was her third escapade in three months to Robledo Estates. She enjoyed the solitude, and the scenery was perfect for when she needed inspiration.

As an artist, she spent hours a day in her own villa, with a backyard and breathtaking view, painting the wonderful images and sensations nature had to offer. She promised to let me see her work soon.

“Come on, what better way to spend the afternoon than sampling some cold wine and eating some cheese?”

“I know, I know, but I told Nico to meet me here at three.”

“Then cancel” she insisted.

“I can't just cancel for no reason! He is only in town for three days,” I said, laughing.

“A wine tour with me seems like the perfect excuse. Just tell him to come tomorrow! He works for you, not the other way around,” declared Francesca with a final tone.

In the past couple days, I had quickly learned that Francesca did not take no for an answer, and I liked that about her. Francesca was a woman in her early sixties with impeccable style.

She loved wearing linen dresses accompanied by gorgeous pearls of all colors and sizes. She always walked around with a large hat to protect her eyes from the sun. She had long black hair that went all the way down her back. She was beautiful, with a straight nose and sensual lips, but at times, when she got lost in her thoughts, her eyes looked sad and distant.

I did not dare ask what was haunting her. So far, we had very fun conversations about politics, philosophy, music, wine, and food, but I avoided anything having to do with my kidnapping. Francesca had told me she avoided the news like the pest, and thankfully, since she didn’t live in California, she had no idea who I was.

Her ignorance made her the perfect friend that I needed. Someone to talk to and confide in without the baggage of knowing everything I had been through.

“Fine,” I said, caving to Francesca’s now shining eyes, “since you insist.”

Francesca was basking in her victory as I took my phone out to reschedule my appointment with Nicholas.

“There, it’s done,” I added after finishing texting. “He was bummed, but now he wants to take me to dinner tomorrow instead, so it worked out.”

“Oh,” teased Francesca, “do you think he wants to date you?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I don’t think so. We used to date. He was my first crush…but we were younger. It's been so long. I am not the same person I was before, and neither is he. I am most certainly not ready for any type of relationship right now.”

“Because of George?” inquired Francesca.

“No, not because of George…”

“Well, then, is there someone else?” she pushed.

I couldn’t really explain to Francesca that I had fallen for my irresistible captor.

“Something like that,” I responded, fighting the sadness I felt every time I was reminded of Alejandro.

Francesca put her hand on mine, shaking her head in silent understanding.

“Seems like the wine tour with me is just what you need to cheer you up, then,” said Francesca smiling, trying to help me fight the tears she could see rising in my eyes.