The Tourist (Sold #1)

22. Diego

CHAPTER 22

Diego

T he morning sun filters through the navy linen curtains, casting a warm glow over my bedroom.

Chloe is nestled against me, her head resting on my bare chest. It’s a rare moment of peace in my life, and I’m determined to savor every second of it. We’re lying in comfortable silence that’s broken only by the sound of our breathing.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask as I run my fingers through Chloe’s long blonde hair, noticing the lighter strands from the time she’s spent in the sun since her rescue.

Chloe lifts her head and looks at me, her eyes thoughtful. “Please listen before you say no… I want to go back to the old factory building where Serena and I were taken after we were abducted. It’s another fear I need to face in order to find closure. You mentioned to me it’s under Eaton’s control now.”

My heart tightens at the thought. A firm denial balances on my lips, but instead, I nod. “Of course, if you’re sure. Eaton took possession of it after his father died. He’s chasing another lead at the moment, so he won’t be able to accompany us, but we can take Felix with us for extra security. He’s desperate to find Serena as well.”

Chloe nods, her expression resolute. “I’m sure. I need to do this. I think it will be good to have Felix accompanying us. I know him from his guard duties with Serena. He’s got a sharp eye and might notice something we don’t.”

We get dressed and head downstairs where Felix is already waiting for us. He greets us with a nod.

“We’re going to Richard Armstrong’s old factory,” I inform him. “Chloe wants to revisit the scene where she and Serena were sold.”

Felix’s eyes flick to Chloe, and I can see him assessing her, taking in every detail. “Understood, boss. I’ll make sure it’s secure.”

After breakfast, Felix drives us to the factory. Chloe and I sit in the backseat of the car, our hands intertwined. She’s quiet, her gaze intently focused on the passing scenery.

I know she and Serena had bags placed over their heads when they were abducted so she couldn’t see anything of the journey that night. I wonder if she can remember any of the sounds.

I watch her closely and can feel the tension radiating from her, but I know better than to push. She needs to do this in her own time.

When we arrive, we step out into a desolate parking lot. The old, rundown building looms ahead of us, its exterior grim and foreboding. Chloe takes a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Take your time,” I tell her.

She nods, her eyes scanning the building. “I remember... we were brought through those doors,” she says, pointing to a large metal entrance. “We still had the bags over our heads, but I could feel the cold metal and hear the echo of our footsteps.”

Felix stands a few feet away, his eyes constantly scanning the area. I can see him noting every detail Chloe mentions, storing everything away for later when we will dissect what she tells us to see if there’s anything useful that will help us.

“Serena was with me,” Chloe continues, her voice trembling slightly. “We were terrified.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders, offering what comfort I can.

She leans into me, drawing strength from our connection. “I just... I need to remember.”

We move through the derelict building, retracing Chloe’s steps. She points out small details, things she hasn’t mentioned before, and Felix listens intently, occasionally jotting down notes on his phone.

The interior of the factory is just as grim as the outside. The walls are stained and peeling, and the air is damp and cold.

My phone rings, and I let out a curse. “I have to answer this. It’s Eaton. Are you going to be all right?” I ask, worried.

“Of course.”

I step away to take the call but watch from a distance as Chloe speaks to Felix.

“Serena is much stronger than I am,” Chloe says to him. “She will be fine.”

Felix nods. “We’ll find her.”

I barely hear what Eaton is telling me. The only information I get from him is that there is no news. When I return to Chloe, her face is pale, and she looks tired.

“Do you want to continue?” I question.

She nods. There’s a determination in her eyes that I haven’t seen before, so we continue to explore.

We walk through a series of corridors until we reach a set of double doors. Chloe hesitates, her hand gripping mine tightly.

“This is it,” she whispers. “This is where they took us for the sale.”

I push open the doors, revealing a large room draped in black velvet.

Chloe’s breathing quickens, and I can see the memories flooding back to her. I squeeze her hand, grounding her. "You’re safe now. Just take it one step at a time. Do the exercises the counselor taught you."

She nods, taking in deep breaths, and falls silent for a moment before starting to count down from five to four to three to two to one.

"The men punched me, stripped me naked, and forced me to take a cold shower, then they brought me in here. There was a woman," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "An older woman in a maroon suit. She had gray hair pulled back in a bun. She looked so frail, like she was about to break."

My heart skips a beat, "Do you remember anything else about her?"

Chloe closes her eyes, concentrating. "She gave out all the orders. She was in charge, and the one who handled the bids. I remember... she had this cold, calculating look in her eyes." I listen as Chloe describes the woman. “I think she was his sister.” She pauses. “The woman…I think she was Richard Armstrong’s sister.”

Suddenly, it clicks. I know exactly who Chloe is describing. I pull out my phone and quickly call Eaton’s number.

"We’ve got a lead,” I tell him when he answers. “Chloe remembers an older woman in a maroon suit with gray hair and very thin. It’s your aunt, your father’s sister. She denied everything when we spoke to her. She told us she had nothing to do with the trafficking, but she’s been a major part of it all along. She’s the one who was responsible for the auction."

Eaton's voice is sharp on the other end. "I’ll get Max on it straight away. Relation or not. My aunt will receive the same justice as the others."

I hang up and turn back to Chloe, who looks both relieved and a little scared.

"We’re getting closer. Your memories are helping us piece this together," I tell her.

She nods as if she’s heard me, but I think she’s still lost in the past. "There were other captives wearing signs around their necks. The Nephew, The Indebted, The Princess, and The Nobody. And Serena was there... she was The Sister."

I take in a deep breath. This is more proof, as if I needed any, that my sister’s kidnapping was another cruel game orchestrated by Richard Armstrong. My fists clench involuntarily, and I crack my knuckles as my anger boils over.

Chloe places a hand on my arm. "Richard Armstrong was an evil man, and so were his business partners and accomplices. We need to make sure the entire world knows it."

I nod. She's right.

I can tell Chloe is exhausted, but we need to finish this exploration of the building. We make our way along a corridor to another room. This one is filthy with a bare concrete floor. Chloe's eyes suddenly widen, and her entire body starts to tremble. I follow her gaze to one of the stained, scratched walls.

“This is where he raped her.”

The sight of it makes my stomach churn with rage and helplessness.

“It’s okay,” I pull her into my arms. “Don’t look at it.”

She shivers, clinging to me. “The showers... they were so cold,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible as she gasps out the words. They made me take a freezing shower, and then...” I can tell her thoughts are muddled, and her words are becoming strained.

I hold her tighter, my heart breaking for her.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. You’re safe now. You’ll never have to go through that again. We’re going to leave now. You’ve done enough.”

She nods, but the haunted look in her eyes remains. We exit the room, and I can see Felix out of the corner of my eye, jotting down more notes. His face is tense with anger, and the whites of his knuckles are showing as he clenches his fists.

As we head back to the car, Chloe leans her head against my shoulder, and I can still feel her trembling.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For helping me remember. Many people would want to forget, but I need to face my demons before I can do that. I need to get everything that happened straight in my head. At the moment, it’s all such a mess.” When we reach the car, she suddenly turns to me and says, “I need to write about this. I want to expose Richard Armstrong. I want to name him and his entire operation. Journalist intent and good practice says I’m not allowed to, but even if I have to post the article on the dark web, rather than in the mainstream press, it’s something I have to do. I need to tell the full story, and to do that, I need to reveal the name of the man responsible.”

I nod, understanding the power of words. “It’s your decision. I’m sure Eaton will support you. Your story can make a difference. It might help to bring about justice for the victims of Richard Armstrong as well as their relatives and friends.”

“I think so too. Now I just need to figure out how to get the words out of my head and down onto paper.”