I lived in a constant state of anticipation and fear. Every time the door opened, I fought the urge to curl into myself. I hoped he would take me from the dungeon and I’d figure a way out of this hell. I was determined that I would get back to Gun. I was staring at the wall that I’d memorized every crack and crevice of, when the door opened.

“Come,” one of Enrico’s men ordered. I was afraid, not really sure what was going to happen to me. Maybe he was done using me, or maybe a new hell awaited me, what I didn’t expect was for the goon to lead me to Enrico’s room.

Enrico’s room was opulent. I’d been in here once before when I’d first gotten here, but it was all a blur to me. The one thing I remembered was the black sheets on the bed. Images of Enrico raping my throat assaulted me, making me swallow back the bile.

“You have specific instructions. You're to shower. There is makeup and things for your hair. A dress is in the closet. You're to accompany Mr. Santos’ to a dinner this evening. You’ll not speak to anyone. You will keep your eyes down. If you don't follow these rules, he will not hesitate to kill you in front of his company. Do you understand, Senorita?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Yes what, estupido puta.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looked smug as he closed me in the suite. I knew better than to look around. I didn't doubt that a camera would be on me. I’d already surmised that there was a camera in the dungeon. Besides the fact that Enrico made comments about getting off as he watched me, I’d spotted it in the ceiling. It was inconspicuous and blended in and if I hadn’t been searching the ceiling for exactly that, I’d never known it was there.

Tonight, I would do as I was told. I would try to observe as much as I could, and I would do everything I could to stay safe. Well, as safe as one could be in the company of killers.

I showered. There was a fresh razor, I assumed was for me. As I shaved, I wondered if I’d be able to remove the razer-blade and use it as a weapon? I gave it a pull to see if it would come loose and nicked the skin on my finger. He’d notice any new cuts on me. I needed to be more careful. I finished showering and saw the brand new make-up that was left for me on the bathroom counter. It was all better quality than the drugstore brands I was used to purchasing. I used bobby pins to secure my hair into an up-do, then used the black charcoal liner to darken my eyes and finished off my look with a dark red lipstick.

Inside the closet, a black mini dress hung above a pair of red stilettos. They were all high fashion brands and I thought how funny it was that he didn’t want to dress me like the whore I’d been turned into. After slipping into the dress and the securing the heels, the door opened and in walked Enrico. He walked around appraising me.

“You did well,” his thick accent appraised me. Although to me, it felt more like sharp shards being thrown at me. I didn't want his assurances. I kept my face devoid of any emotion.

“Emanuel explained to you the rules for tonight?”

“Yes sir. He did.”

“You don't talk to anyone. Do you understand? You do as I say. I’m not done playing with you yet, and if you fuck this up, I’ll be forced to do something I’m not ready to do. Get it?”

“Yes.”

“Dammit. Yes, what?”

Fuck, I’d screwed up. I waited for a blow as I quickly answered, “Yes sir.” The blow didn't come. I watched as Enrico opened a safe and took out two large, silver guns. He wore a holster over his finely pressed white, linen shirt and then put a suit jacket on top of them. I know he did this as a show to me. I couldn't help but notice the stacks of cash inside of the safe. Maybe I could use that one day? Maybe I could escape?

I was dreaming about a way out of here when I’d heard, “Follow me, pet.” Enrico motioned me out of his bedroom. I passed by a vase and I momentarily thought about grabbing it and smashing it over his head, but then what? I needed to be smart. I needed to come up with a plan.

A woman’s voice caught me off guard. “Fine, you win. I’m sorry. Now, let me out!” She banged on a door as we passed. I couldn't lift my head as much as I wanted to, but something about the way she yelled at Enrico made me think that she wasn't in the same boat as me. Enrico ignored her. There wasn't even a pause in his step. I wondered if she was who normally escorted him. She was quickly forgotten by me, as he led me through the mansion. I followed Enrico, and although my head was down, I tried to keep track of how many guards I’d seen. I counted six, and I inwardly cringed--that was a lot of men.

We exited the mansion and a convoy of black SUV’s awaited us in the hot Colombian sun. This was the first time I’d been outside, and I was surprised to see that we were surrounded by what looked to be a jungle. Thick trees and shrubs surrounded his nicely manicured lawn.

I was lead into an SUV. The air-conditioning was on full blast giving me a chill as I slid across the black leather interior. I kept my head turned towards the window, and noticed once we were past his property, the jungle thinned out and we were actually not far from an urban metropolis. There were people everywhere. Houses seemed to be stacked on top of one another and in every direction, there were herds and herds of people. I’d never been to New York, but I imagined that’s what it was like, crowded.

Within ten minutes, we pulled up in front of a posh looking restaurant. As Enrico’s car came to a stop, the SUVs in our convoy pulled up on each side of his vehicle. Guards surrounded us as they ushered us into the restaurant. Every worker inside seemed to scurry away as we passed by. A hostess lead us to a private room in the back of the restaurant where there were men surrounding the table with women at each side of them.

Before I sat, down Enrico grabbed my arm. “Be on your best behavior,” he whispered into my ear. A quick glance at the table told me no one paid his dominance over me any mind.

“Armando, Luis,” Enrico greeted the men who stood until Enrico sat.

I was to keep my eyes down, I knew this, but every once and awhile I would glance at the women. They had blank expressions similar to mine.

“Your new pet is beautiful.” The man, I learned was Armando, spoke.

“That she is,” Enrico responded taking a sip of a dark, amber liquid the server had poured as soon as we sat down.

The men began talking in Spanish. I kept my head down and did my best to remain unaffected. The other women seemed to do the same as I didn’t hear a single sound from them.