"You're the stubborn one, Pedro!" shouted Anna in a hoarse voice, full of pent-up anger. "You always do what you want! You always think that what you think is the truth! You've never once understood my feelings! You don't deserve to be in charge of my baby's life! He's my flesh and blood! No one can take him away from me!"
Anna's voice grew louder, filled with hatred and hurt. Every word that came out of her mouth was the result of all the hurt that Pedro had left behind.
Pedro couldn't contain his anger anymore. With one swift movement, he got up from the bed and backed away, looking at Anna hatefully. "Fine if that's what you want. Then don't blame me if I cross the line."
He walked out of the room, then locked the door with unimaginable force. Anna, lying limp on the bed, whimpered softly, begging not to be locked up like that. But Pedro already didn't care. He simply left her locked in the room, ordering someone to watch and ensure that she couldn't get out. No one could give her food or water.
"If you don't abort the child, then I will, Anna. In my way," Pedro said in a voice full of hatred and desperation. In his heart, he was obsessed with the betrayal he thought Anna had committed. It haunted him constantly, as if to erase all the good that had once existed between them.
In the darkened room, Anna did not remain silent. The despair that engulfed her heart moved her body to fight. She looked around for something that could be used to call for help. Her eyes found a landline phone lying on a small table in the corner of the room.
With trembling hands, Anna picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Please, help me. Get me out of Pedro's house. He kidnapped me..." Anna's voice broke, choked with tears. Her heart was pounding, hope rising behind her fear. Was this a way out?
Pedro was curled up on the plush leather sofa, his body limp, his eyes bleary. Empty wine bottles were scattered around him, clear evidence of a night filled with booze. The lively and noisy atmosphere of the nightclub could no longer hold his attention. Only Anna's image continued to haunt him.
"Mr. Pedro, it's late. We should go home," said his assistant, a burly man named Carlos. "You've had too much to drink."