Alejandro
Bernardo’s house looks just as good in the night as it does in the daytime.
Fuckers like him come from old money, money older than dirt, and live in the type of luxury homes you see on TV lifestyle shows. They also don’t know what it’s like to go through the stress and strains of real life.
As wealthy as I am, I know. I made sure I knew the value of hard work, and I didn’t lick the silver spoon my parents fed me with like some would.
Gabriella Perez shudders when I look at her sitting on the sofa, gripping its edge like it can save her from me. She runs a hand through her graying hair and flashes me a terrified glance when I lean against the wall.
The woman is terrified of me, as she should be.
She knows who I am and what I’m capable of.
The measly guards she and Bernardo keep on the grounds knew it, too, so they didn’t hesitate to let me in when I arrived a little over fifteen minutes ago.
Cristiano and Eric are standing by the window watching for Bernardo, and my other guards are concealed around the house.
We’re ready for tonight’s activities, and I’m not leaving until I get answers. The time for waiting is over.
Gabriella shudders when I push off the wall and walk over to the display unit with the family pictures.
I take note of the large picture of Bernardo with his wife, and their son and daughter. They look like the perfect family. The daughter just got accepted to Oxford in England, and the son is finishing up at Harvard Law in Boston.
Gabriella splits her time between tending to her animal charities and taking care of her asshole husband. I’m sure she’s been left in the dark about his unsavory extracurricular activities. If my wife were like her, I’d leave her in the dark, too, but then, as bad as I am, I’m not like him.
And I don’t wear a mask of pretense either. What you see with me is what you get.
I glance at Eric, who taps his watch, signaling it’s nearly time for Bernardo to come home.
When I return my gaze to Gabriella, she doesn’t look away from me. She looks at me like she wants to give me a piece of her mind but is holding back in case she tries it and I kill her.
“What are you going to do to my husband?” she stutters in a deep accent, asking me the same question she’s asked four times already. On her last attempt, I didn’t bother to answer. I hate repeating myself and wasting words.
“Like I told you before, Señora Perez, we will see.”
A tear tracks down her cheek. “Can’t you tell me anything? Anything at all.”
“It’s best I don’t.”
“You’ve come to kill him, haven’t you?” Her entire body trembles as her dark eyes rivet to mine.
“That will heavily depend on what he says, or what he doesn’t say.”
Her nostrils flair, and her eyes blaze. “You monster. You fucking monster. Don’t think I don’t know what you are. My husband is a respectable man. You have no business here.”
That does it. I already have no patience for shit. I have no allegiance to this woman, so I should have no problem with giving her a rude awakening.
I march up to her and she winces, moving back into the cushions when I bend and get up in her face.
“I may be a motherfucking monster, Gabriella, but at least I don’t sleep with underage girls. Not like your ‘respectable’ husband.”
Her eyes bulge, and a gush of air leaves her lungs. “What are you talking about?”
I pull one of the pictures of Bernardo from my stash. This one is bad but not even the most incriminating. It will do the fucking job for now, though, and give his wife an idea of what he gets up to when he goes on some of those business trips of his.
I hold the picture out to her, and she starts crying and shaking her head.
The reaction is understandable and exactly what I expected. On the picture is her beloved with two teenage girls. All are naked. One girl is between his legs sucking his disgusting dick, and he has an arm around the other girl while he sucks her tits. The camera is angled so you can see his face, and there is no mistake that’s it’s him. I had him followed and cameras installed to record his every move.