My Enemy’s Daughter

CHAPTER 3



HENRICONôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

I take a deep breath, finally inhaling the pure air of freedom. I look with a smile at the image of Guilhermino leaning on his blue truck across the street, he’s here just as he promised. Not only that, but I look back and take one last look at the penitentiary that was my home for three and a half years. I walk towards my friend, with moderate and cautious steps, I watch his eyes narrow in my direction, more precisely on the cigarette between my lips and I can’t help but smile right after blowing the smoke in the air.

This was a habit I acquired in jail, I experienced it one night, where even my revenge plans couldn’t bring me peace and voilà.

Yea!

I raise my hands in surrender as he arches his left eyebrow in disapproval, taking one last photo of my Dunhill, a gift from my cellmate in commemoration of my departure. Knowing I can’t smoke in his car, I put out the cigarette and toss it into the only trash can nearby.

Shit.

“Since when do you smoke?” I shrug.

“A few months ago.” I replied succinctly, ending the conversation. I don’t want to talk about my new addiction, and he understands that.

We got into his truck in silence, remaining that way until music started playing on the radio.

It’s weird being back in the real world, I mean sure all the shit that happened to me inside that place was real, but I just had walls to look at all the time, there were no expectations or good times, every day was just okay. Lower the car window glass, allowing a better view of what is happening outside.

I close my eyes for a moment and let myself go, the low car music and the gentle breeze coming through the open window are enough to make the anger come back. He even took it from me all these months. My jaw clenches and I try to find calm in the song’s chorus. I can feel the tension coming from Guilhermino, but I keep my eyes closed a little longer. I understand your concern about my next actions and I don’t blame you, I’ve been telling you everything I planned for Leal’s gang and I scared him, I changed with prison, and I’m different from the boy he knew as a brat. So I was smoking. Nicotine keeps me calm when nervousness and anxiety arise, it works as an outlet.

“Mada is making a nice roast beef in your honor.” he says, patting my seat to get my attention.

I smile sincerely at the mention of the woman’s name.

“Great.”

He snorts.

“Excellent? Is that all you have to say? Where is your excitement for eating real food?”

A crooked smile appears on my lips.

The food wasn’t that bad, in fact, it was the least of the problems one could have in that place.

” I’m not that hungry.” I say, justifying my reaction.

He looks at me, frowning, and I stare at him, preempting and speaking before starting his speech.

“Thought I’d ride a little.” I speak. Feeling him relax in his seat.

“I’m sorry you lost Hercules, but we have new horses, you can choose any one of them.

I nod, turning to face the window, not wanting to broach the subject with the only person who’s been by my side and turned out to be an asshole. Hercules died some time after my arrest, we were extremely close and he was very sorry for my distance, the veterinarian thought that the reason for his death was sadness. My horse was a gift from my father when I turned eighteen, he was one of my memories of my old man and his death will also be paid for.

The farm entrance starts to appear right ahead, my heart starts to flutter when I see all the employees at the entrance. I almost lost the only inheritance my parents left me in the midst of all this mess, I am very grateful to each man and woman who worked so hard and didn’t give up on me when everything seemed to fall apart.

“Before we get out of the car, I want to ask you if you still have those thoughts in your head.” The eye, knowing exactly what you’re talking about. Yes.

“That man is dangerous, you ended up in jail last time. I hear your words even though I already know.”

“I know, but I’m not afraid. I can assure you that I’m not the same as before.” Now it’s your turn to look at me.

“I understand. I’m here for whatever you need.” Speech.

“I won’t involve you in this.” I declare.

“Henrico, your father took me in when I was still a tomboy and needed help, for me, you are like a younger brother, and I don’t abandon the family.” I close my eyes and let out a long breath. I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise right now.

“I have something to show you.” He holds out his phone, open to a gossip page, and I stare at him in confusion.

“Just read.” Speech.

“Amélia Leal will throw a party to celebrate her 18th birthday at a super trendy local disco, the young woman will be attended by her parents, older sister and closest friends. Rumors say it will be something refined and discreet like her, but everyone will be masked, and the party will last all night.”

I read the entire article twice. A picture of the girl is printed at the top of the news bulletin and I blink a few times as I look at the image. Memories of the first time I saw her invade my memory.

“I come down from the room asking myself for resilience and control, I try to forget for a moment the last information I received about my wife’s family and I play a good host, but what I see when I step off the last step takes me off my axis.

“Who are you? I watch the small figure stroking the feathers of a chicken in the middle of my room.” I tilt my head, trying to clear my field of vision and understand what’s going on. “Cat got your tongue, girl? You can’t break into my house, steal my chickens and then ignore me.”

The girl whispers, her long brown hair covering half of her face, but I can still hear her shoulders moving as if she’s saying something.

“What did you say? Speak, damn it!” I say impatiently.

“I said my name is Amelia and I didn’t trespass on your property or plan to kidnap your precious chicken, idiot.”

“Do you know the exact date and address of this club?” I ask.


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