Lorena Sales
I married Jorge because I loved him—truly loved him. But the problem with marriage is that you only start seeing someone's flaws after you've already said I do. While I was killing myself working at the hospital to help keep the house running, Jorge worked half days and spent the rest of his afternoons at a casino. The gambling had only started a few days ago, but he'd always bet on soccer games and horse races.
There were days he came home with money, but lately I'd started noticing that things were disappearing—especially the gifts my patients gave me. Bracelets, earrings, even necklaces were gone from the cabinet where I always kept my things. And when I asked if he'd seen them, he swore he never touched my stuff.
But in a house where only two people live, how do things just vanish?
Tired of fighting with him over it, I stopped accepting gifts from patients, and strangely enough, things stopped disappearing. Until one day he came home wired, acting like an addict tearing through the house looking for something to sell to feed his habit.
"You got paid today, right, Lorena?"
"Yeah, but I already went to the bank and paid the bills. I hope you paid the electric, since that was your responsibility. Tomorrow we need to go grocery shopping. How much do you have?"
"I don't have anything. If you've got some left over, give it to me—I need to buy a few things."
"I'm never giving you my money. I don't work twenty-four-hour shifts to support you. I pay the household bills because I live here and I'm not going without basic necessities, but money for you? Not a single dollar."
He smiled and shook his head, clearly not happy with my answer. Then he walked out without another word. I could already see I'd be doing this month's grocery shopping alone, because I couldn't live in a house with no food. I grabbed the car keys and went straight to the supermarket. At least if I spent my money on groceries, he wouldn't be hounding me for a loan.
Jorge was a good man—his problem was that goddamn addiction destroying his reputation. I grabbed only the essentials, trying to save as much as possible while still getting enough food to last the whole month. Then I drove home. The second I walked in and started putting groceries away on the counter, Jorge arrived with two men in suits and ties who stood planted at the front door.
"Lorena, I'm so sorry. You know how much I love you, right?" I frowned immediately.
"Why are you saying that, Jorge? What's going on? Who are they?"
"You need to come with me. I need you to understand and forgive me." The two men walked into my house without so much as an invitation, flanking me on both sides. I looked at Jorge, a strange tightness already building in my chest, trying to understand what was happening and what the hell he'd done.
"What the fuck did you do now, you idiot?" He closed his eyes, and one of the men grabbed my arm. I yanked it free. "Don't touch me, asshole. I don't owe you people anything, and I'm not going anywhere. If he owes a debt, he can pay it himself."
"They're going to kill me if you don't come, Lorena. They'll take me to a clinic, cut out my organs, and sell everything. Please—help me."
The other man took a step toward me, but I held up my hand and he stopped. Then I started walking toward the door, and they all followed. We got into a black car, and a few minutes later, we pulled up to a massive casino. The four of us got out and headed toward a staircase. One of the guards blocked Jorge, saying the Don wanted to speak to me alone.
I went up with the other guard, and the moment the door opened, I found myself in an enormous office, floor-to-ceiling glass on every wall. The owner was seated in his chair with his back to the door, facing a bookshelf lined with volumes.
"Leave us alone, S1." The guard stepped out and closed the door behind him. I glanced back for a second, then walked slowly until I stopped in front of the desk. He swiveled the chair around to face me. My heart skipped a beat. It was the man I'd saved on that dirt road.
"Hello, Lorena. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"You? Why did you have me brought here?"
"Your husband didn't tell you?" I shook my head and watched him roll his eyes. He reached for a device on the desk and spoke into it. "Bring him up here. He should've told her the truth."
The voice on the other end answered with a "yes, sir," and after a few minutes, the door opened. Jorge stumbled in, nearly tripping over the carpet. He came toward me with a look dripping with guilt, trembling all over.
"You're a real piece of work, aren't you?" Ravi said, looking at him. "Tell her what's going on, because I'm not going to be the villain of this story."
"Lorena, please forgive me..." There he went with apologies again, and I was already losing my patience. "I owe him five hundred thousand dollars. They gave me three options: work here for ten years with only three hours of sleep, have my organs harvested and sold, or... or hand you over to settle the debt." I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.
"And you chose to bring me here like I'm your property? Just because I'm your wife doesn't make you my owner. When you decided to come to this casino, you never asked if I'd let you—so why do you think I'd agree to stay here to pay off a debt that isn't even mine?"
"You'd rather see me dead?"
"There's the option of working. Make the most of your three hours of sleep and figure out your own problems. I work myself to the bone at that hospital and you never appreciated a single thing I did, so why would I do this for you now? Deal with it yourself." I turned to leave, but when I twisted the handle, the door was locked. "Tell them to open it. I'm leaving."
"Unfortunately, that's not how this works, Lorena." He stood up from his chair. "Your husband and I already made a deal, and from today on—you're mine."
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