Chapter 9 Taking A Chance

CAMILO "There's a baby crying behind that building," Camila murmured softly, and my heart dropped; not this again. After losing her baby, she would wake up in the middle of the night, claiming to have heard him cry and I thought she was over that. "Come back inside, Camila. "Come on," I said softly, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, but she refused to move. "I'm not crazy, Camilo. I heard a baby," she insisted, resisting. “We’re in a casino. There are no babies out here. Come on, let me take you inside." She stopped resisting and began taking tentative steps forward, still looking back, before eventually walking faster. But then I heard the sound as well, and we both stopped to look behind us. "Could there actually be a baby out here?" “You heard that, right? I told you I wasn’t hearing things,” she said, removing my arm and turning around. Pedro and I followed her as the baby's voice became clearer. "Wait up!" I caught her arm and brought her to a halt. “What?” “This isn’t a good idea. It—” “It’s a baby, Camilo!” she exclaimed, yanking her arm free, but I grabbed her arm again. “Stop! Stop it! Will you listen to me for a second? I am not saying we should turn back. The guys and I will go check, but you stay here until I figure out if it is safe—" “But—” “No, no buts. It’s either that or I turn around and carry you back inside myself.” “Fine, go! You’re wasting time.” "Stay with her," I instructed one of my men, and the rest of us moved on. As we approached with caution, the guys pulled out their pistols. There was a large trash can ahead, and the sound came from behind it. We walked around it, the guys taking the lead, and as we rounded the building, we were frozen by the sight. A woman lay on the ground, unconscious, holding a baby in her arms. "What in the hell?" I whispered, but Camila interrupted. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed, and I turned to face her. “I thought I told you to wait.” She didn’t reply but rushed forward, gently taking the hysterical baby into her arms while the woman stirred weakly and then passed out again. "We need to take her to the hospital," I told Pedro, removing my jacket to cover the woman who was dressed in her pajamas. Pedro picked her up and took her to the car while I wondered what happened to her. ••• VERA I heard voices in the distance and tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't. I felt my baby slip out of my arms, but I could not move. Please, God, help us, I pleaded. My eyes opened, but I couldn't see; everything was blurry, and I tried to speak, but the lights went off again. I heard the voices again, and this time I realized they were talking about a hospital. I tried moving my head and opening my eyes. No hospital, I thought. Please, no hospitals. I tried to say it, but the words didn’t come. The voices became louder this time, and my eyes opened without difficulty. Frowning, I looked up at the high, fancy-looking ceiling. Where am I? What is this place? Was everything a dream? I tried to move but felt something strange in my arm. I lifted my head and noticed an IV attached to it. "No, no, no," I murmured, my memories flooding back. Tearing the IV out of my arm, a small scream escaped me as I tried to get up, knocking over what I assumed was a glass of water. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” a young woman about my age rushed in and tried to hold me down. “Pedro!” she called out, and a guy came rushing in. “My baby, where’s my baby? Where is he?” I cried out. “He’s fine; he’s sleeping. Your baby’s fine. Calm down, it’s okay,” she assured me, but I needed to see him. “No, I want my baby. I want my baby, please," I sobbed as the man restrained me. "Keep holding her down," she told him before walking out of the room. He kept holding me, and I struggled and screamed, even though it was pointless. But soon after, the doors opened again and the woman walked in, holding Noa in her arms. She handed him over, and I hugged him tightly, my tears not stopping. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re both safe,” she said, placing her hand on my back and rubbing gently until I calmed down. Noa was wrapped in a blue blanket and wearing a navy romper. “It’s okay. We won’t hurt you. No one will. I promise,” she added. I looked up at her, and her face struck me as familiar, like I'd seen her before but couldn't remember where, and she smiled, her gaze drifting to the door. I followed her gaze and found a man standing there, staring at me. He looked exactly like her. They had to be twins. But his stormy grey eyes were intense and unsettling, making me look away. “You’re scaring her, Camilo,” the young woman said, and the guy walked toward us. "Why were you out there with a baby in the middle of the night?" he asked, his tone cold and authoritative. And I stuttered, unable to form words; only tears flowed. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer him,” the woman said to me, shooting him a glare before tugging his arm. They both left the room, with him giving me one last look before leaving. Noa began to cry, so I pulled up the sheets to feed him. The guy who had previously pinned me down remained in the room but turned away to give me privacy. I covered us and began nursing Noa, who looked adorable in his new outfit. It was also nice and warm, and when I looked at the clock, it was 11 a.m. I was still feeding him when the woman returned, pushing a tray of food. “I got you something to eat. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just bought a bunch of stuff,” she said. “Thank you. Where am I?” “You’re at our hotel, the Four Seasons. What’s your name?” She asked, sitting next to me and I hesitated. I was not sure whether giving my real name was a good idea. They must have been wealthy, judging by this suite; they may even have known my father. "Mera... Mera DuPont," I said, recalling the first thing that came to mind. DuPont was our housekeeper's surname, and Mera was something I made up on the spot by replacing the V in my name with an M. "Nice to meet you, Mera. I am Camila De La Cruz, this is our bodyguard, Pedro, and the tense guy from earlier is my twin brother, Camilo," she explained, and it finally clicked. I had seen her before in the tabloids. She was a famous designer and the granddaughter of Murray De La Cruz, a successful businessman. I was not sure if he was richer than the Greys, but he was certainly in their league. Camila smiled knowingly as my eyes widened with realization. "This may be a dumb question, but are you in trouble?" she asked, and I stared at her, unsure what to say. Of course, I was in trouble, but should I tell her? Was it safe? "You can trust me. I only want to help. I promise,” she added, taking my hand in hers. “Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?” I asked, avoiding her question. “You asked us not to.” “I did?” “Yes. We were on our way there, but you opened your eyes and begged us not to proceed. We figured you were running from someone, so we brought you here instead. I called a doctor, I know. I told him I needed someone discreet, but I didn’t say it was for you. He sent someone.” "Thank you," I said softly, and she squeezed my hand reassuringly again. My mind raced as I met her gaze again, deciding to take a chance and tell her I needed her help. She was my best chance of getting out of the city and I prayed she'd help me.