HI! *ahem* This chapter was the longest I've ever written! It was all worth it! I hope you enjoy it! (I do not own this Novela!)

Chapter 23

The two unarmed men threatened Franco to remain silent as they pulled into what looked like a warehouse. One of the thugs held Franco in a chokehold while the other instructed the other to follow him quietly. Franco felt weak. He was badly beaten and his hands were tied as he was forced inside the warehouse, where he saw a bunch of boxes, rusty old wooden crates, dusty sacks, and weary ropes.

The one thug that held him threw Franco on to the hard cemented floor.

"What's going on?" shouted Franco, glaring at the two strange men, his mind trying to memorize their faces before anything else goes wrong.

"What do you think?" snarled, the taller man in a black trench coat as he grabbed Franco by his shoulders and dragged him further into the storage room. He tossed Franco directly into a pile of old boxes.

"Just wait until someone else comes for you!" Franco heard the other man say.

Franco found control of his footing and tried to make a run for it but the second henchman in a tan coat blocked his path and began to strike him in the abdomen. Franco felt the wind getting knocked out of him as he dropped to the solid ground.

"And do ask so many questions!" he growled, kicking Franco's sides. "You're the one who got into this problem by messing with someone else's wife!"

Wife?

Franco coughed and groaned in pain. As he did so, he wondered if this man was referring to Rosario. He always knew that woman would never leave him alone after he told her to.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" yelled Franco, writhing at the pain shooting at his sides. "I've messed with nobody's wife!"

The man in the tan coat grabbed Franco back up to his feet and proceeded to use him as a punching bag. Franco doubled over and fell onto his knees.

"Enough, Rubinski!" shouted his partner in the black coat. "That's enough! You're going to finish him! What's going to be left for our boss?"

Franco grunted, his tied hands clutching at a developing bruise near his rib.

"I know we can't kill him!" shouted the man in tan, named Rubinski. "But can we at least enjoy ourselves or not? Can't we just get him all prepped up until our boss arrives?"

"But you can get carried away." explained the man in the black coat. "Don't be stupid. Just cover his eyes and mouth before the man comes! Which is real soon!"

"Alright then." Rubinski agreed.

The two thugs pulled the weak Franco Reyes to a chair and duct taped his mouth.

"Getting you all prepped up, bitch." Rubinski sneered, now holding a huge brown sack to throw over Franco's head. "We're going to leave you wrapped up like a Christmas gift."

The two thugs laughed listening to Franco suffocating beneath the leathery brown sack. One of them threw him back on the ground and pelted his sides with more thundering kicks and punches.

Franco was beginning to lose all hope until he heard a loud gunshot followed by a woman's voice.

"Stay there!"

He caught his breath and his heart stopped. Is that who he thinks it is?

He heard the thugs freeze in their spots and talk amongst themselves.

"Where did she come from?" one of them asked.

"Probably from the back.." the other man answered, "But we're not scared of any little girl."

Another gunshot fired, causing one of them to yelp.

"If you don't want your brains splattered all over these walls, throw your weapons now!"

That was Sarita's voice.

Franco couldn't understand what he was feeling at the moment. He was overwhelmed with so much emotion. He didn't know whether he should be scared, worried, or relieved that she came to his rescue. How did she know how to find him? But thinking it through, he was right all along about her. She was a force to be reckoned with.

"You're a great shot, aren't you, little lady?" exclaimed one thug who had yelped.

"Throw all your weapons to the ground, NOW!" she ordered.

"Calm down, okay?" he heard one of them say.

Franco wished he could see what was actually happening. He was having difficulties breathing under the leather sack. He heard the thugs drop their guns to the ground.

These men were very dangerous. Franco wouldn't have known how much they were packing until he heard Sarita ordering one of them to take off the knife one of them carried on his leg.

"And don't you try anything or I'll blow your fucking heads off!" she warned.

"Have you gone crazy or what?" one of them commented to her. "Wait a second!"

There was a clank on the ground and Franco knew the other man followed her command.

"Against the wall!" she demanded. "Now! Quick! I'm not fucking playing around! Hands in the air!"

Franco heard her light footsteps coming to where he was laying. He felt her untying the ropes of the sack and then quickly pulled it off.

He finally could see. His eyes widened at the sight of her. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Sarita can never seize to surprise him. She looked incredible with all that fury and worry written in her soft brown eyes. How can a woman like her exist? So strong, valiant, and...beautiful.

She knelt beside him, one hand holding a shotgun as big as her, aimed at the two thugs who were hands up against the wall. Her other hand held the knife which she must've taken from one of the thugs. Franco was silently impressed by her quick nerve.

Sarita noticed the tape covering his mouth and hastily ripped it off.

"Damn!" exclaimed Franco at the stinging sensation. "Don't be such a brute!"

"How can you say that to me when these assholes almost killed you, idiot?" she reprimanded him.

Franco ignored her and held up his bounded hands. She used the knife to cut him loose. Just when she released his hands, one of the thugs abandoned his position from the wall. Sarita quickly got to her feet and fired a shot, denting the wall a few inches away from the thug's head.

"Didn't I tell you I'm not playing around, asshole?" she cautioned, pointing her gun straight at the two men.

Franco noticed her finger pulling at the trigger. He was beginning to get scared, now realizing how dangerous and vicious Sarita can be.

"I said stay against that wall or I won't miss this time!"

Franco saw the men actually listen to her. This had Franco thinking that these men are nothing without any weapons.

"Let's see how brave these assholes are." said Franco, stalking over to the men who kidnapped him.

While Sarita held them at gunpoint, Franco was able to give them a taste of their own medicine. The two men were groaning in pain and writhing on the ground. The man called Rubinski glared hatefully at Sarita, who in turn aimed her shotgun between his eyes.

Franco diverted his eyes from the men he'd taken down to Sarita. His heart had already been rising with adrenaline but as he observed her handling her shotgun, it began to beat in another tempo. It was a privilege to see her in such a way. She was indeed a feral woman. Her eyes fiery with authority as she focused her weapon at the thugs, her lips so full and bowed into a perfect pout, and her hair nearly coming out of its elegant bun allowing more soft tendrils to frame her angelic face. Franco could replay this image all over again for as long as he lived.

Sarita was truly breathtaking.

Franco regretfully took his eyes off her and began to bound the two men as they had done to him. He felt Sarita's impatience, which soon made his rise.

"We need to leave." He told her after finishing with Rubinski. "I overheard them saying someone else is coming."

"Seriously?" she gasped, her fingers itching for the trigger of her shotgun. "These men are very dangerous, Franco…"

"Sara, I don't want to put you in any more danger." he told her, sensing her fear as she clutched her weapon. "Please hand me your gun, it's okay."

She silently obeyed, her hands slightly shaking as she did so.

"Don't worry." he consoled her. "We're going to leave."

Then it hit him. Where the hell were they?

As if she read his mind, Sarita assured him that she knew where and how to get out.

"We're not far from our homes." she added, her eyes darting to where the men groaned under their leather sacks.

"Good." said Franco. "Let's go before it gets worse."

Franco extended his hand to her, and to his surprise she nervously took it. Her small, but quivering hand slid into his and he wrapped his fingers around hers before leading her out of the storage room.

Once they made it out, he heard her let out a shaky sigh. He tightened his hold on her hand to comfort her, but she let go of it to search for her car.

The drive away from the warehouse was quite nerve-wracking. Franco felt Sarita's anxiety spike up whenever she drove through a couple of dents. He glanced over at her, worried that she may cause an accident. He needed to speak to break the tension.

"I honestly thought they were going to kill me." sighed Franco.

What a way to start the conversation because Sarita tensed again.

"I thought I wasn't going to make it out of there alive."

"I don't know where you drew your strength, Franco." she finally spoke, her eyes focusing on the road ahead. "Those assholes really gave you a beating. Apparently you have more than one enemy, no?"

Franco shrugged.

"Not that I know who wants to kill me." he confessed.

"Well, if that's what you think…" she said. "If I weren't there those men would've ended you. If you appreciate life, you should surround yourself with bodyguards."

He didn't need to hear a lecture. Especially not from her.

"What do you think I am, a mobster?" he barked at her, his eyes glaring at her. "That I'm involved in some shady shit? No! I don't need to take those measures."

"Ah, then it must've been because of a woman." she assumed.

Franco frowned, remembering what the thug said about messing around with another man's wife.

"You are such a shameless man." she scolded. "I don't even know why I rescued you-"

Here she goes. Same old Sarita.

"For fuck's sakes, Sara!" he shouted, causing her to shift uncomfortably on the road. "If you're regretting the favor then turn this car and let them kill me!"

"No!" she shouted back. "After all the work I had done? Hell no, Franco!"

She calmed, realizing that she was still driving. Franco noticed her fragile fingers shakily gripping her steering wheel.

"You have no idea the pain and fear I had back there." she added, her voice breaking.

Franco glanced over at her. He regretted his anger from seeing just how nervous she was driving.

"I didn't see you distressed or scared." he told her, his mind playing that incredible image of her fearlessly standing over the men with her shotgun.

"I was more scared than you." he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I thought you were going to kill them."

Sarita sighed in agreement.

"Yes, at that moment I could've done anything." she confessed, her tone rather soft and meek. "Oh, but now that I'm shaking... I don't know how I was able to do that."

She stayed quiet for a moment and Franco looked at her more closely, his annoyance for her dissolving into empathy. He felt her discomfort and he even felt how her nerves were affecting the ride home. Slowly, he raised a hand on her bare shoulder so he wouldn't alarm her anymore. His fingers marveled at the soft flesh as he allowed his thumb to caress her, hoping that he could soothe her.

"Do you need me to drive?" he gently asked her, his voice laced with immense worry and affection.

Sara's trembling hand dismissed his own from her shoulder. Her discomfort intensified when she felt his eyes lingering on her.

"Umm.. no, I'm good." she stammered, her cheeks flushing. "Just relax. We're almost to your house. I'll leave you there safe and sound."

Franco listened to her and decided it was best to drive quietly, for her sake.

The two finally made it to Franco's home. Sarita pulled over at the front and patiently waited for him to get out. However, Franco didn't want to leave yet. He didn't think it was safe to just leave her alone, in fact... he craved more time with her.

"We're here." she announced. "What are you waiting for? You can leave now."

Franco clutched at his rib and winced when he felt a sharp pain there. Sarita noticed and panicked. Franco smirked through his pain when he saw her opening her car door to rush on the other side of the passenger seat to aid him. She was completely oblivious to his smile. His heart throbbed warmly at her immense worry. She was truly breathtaking and sweet. She was near him now and he wanted to take advantage of this moment with her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him, her small hands trying to observe his wounds. "Did those assholes break anything? Should I take you to the hospital instead?"

"No, it's alright...I'm just a little sore." he reassured her, deeply touched by her worry. He stared intensely into her soft brown eyes, anxious to take her into his arms. "Look, I don't want to leave you alone after what happened. Could I accompany you home?"

Sara smiled coyly at him. His heart hummed at her beautiful smile.

"No, don't worry." she answered. "I'll be just fine."

He really didn't want her to leave just yet.

"The main thing is that you take care of yourself, Franco. And talk to your brothers, tell them everything. You can't be by yourself knowing that your enemies are stalking you."

He looked at her with longing, especially noting her usually bossy tone now tender with so much concern he never could imagine her having...especially for him.

"You care a great deal for me, don't you?" he asked her in amazement.

She bashfully looked down, her pale cheeks tinting with color.

"No." she retorted, narrowing her eyes. "I don't care for you at all."

Franco smiled at her, knowing she was lying. Even through her care, she still tries to remain hard.

"Any other girl in your place wouldn't have done what you just did for me." he told her, his tone filling with emotion. "You do care about me."

She began to get nervous. Franco smiled even wider at her indifference. She's still going on with that rough facade. He was finding it quite endearing.

"I didn't do it for nothing in particular, you know." she affirmed, her hands shyly toying with the front of her shawl. "I just don't like injustices. I would've done it for anyone."

Franco chuckled lightly at her stubbornness, finally getting out of her car. Sarita stepped aside to let him walk through, but he only stood in front of her. He noticed how she trembled when he closed the space between them.

His eyes were glued to hers. He didn't know how he could feel anything for her. She was the same little woman who spent most of her time attacking him. She was the same woman who declared war against him and his brothers from the moment they set foot on her ranch. She was the woman he couldn't stand and teased until he made her cry. Most importantly, she was the same feral, tempestuous, and terribly difficult woman who had risked her own life to save his.

Sara was everything he hoped for.

Selfless, loyal, and honest. Those three qualities are what made her so incredibly beautiful to him as she stood there in front of him. Silent and demure.

"You know something?" he said to her as he watched her fiery brown eyes bore into his. "I thought it was incredible to see you fighting back there like a beast..."

He noticed her nervously playing with the hem of her shawl as her cheeks flushed to a deeper shade of red. She was completely vulnerable to him in that moment, no traces of the hard woman he once knew her to be.

"Especially for someone who has done nothing but be rude to you..."

His eyes lingered on her pouty full lips, yearning to brush them with his.

"Sarita.." he whispered, carefully raising his hands to touch her reddened cheeks. "Sara.."

He felt her tremble at his touch, his fingers lightly caressing the soft skin of her tinted cheeks. She tensed when his thumbs grazed her lips, and Franco was captivated by their lusciousness. He needed to taste them again.

He leaned his head down and this time, Sarita didn't try to push him away. His lips glided over hers. Gently and delicately, his lips caressed hers. It was pure and sweet, so much different than the one they shared before. He sighed in contentment, feeling her responding so willingly and softly to him. He could've shown her more but he had to pull away to see her reaction.

She slid his hand away from her face and smiled up at him. She was so beautiful to him, he then regretted stopping their kiss.

"Now why did you do it this time?" she asked, still smiling. "Out of gratitude?"

"No." he simply answered, still dazed from that one little chaste kiss. "Because I wanted to kiss you."

She blushed again, and he couldn't help but caress her face once again. She's so precious when she blushes. So angelic...

"If you want.." he teased. "You can smack me again if you'd like?"

She giggled and he smiled, adoring the sweet bell-like sound.

"You received enough blows for one night, don't you think?" she teased back, her eyes twinkling like two fireflies.

"But not enough kisses." he moaned, not wasting more time and recapturing her lips with his.

This time, he added more pressure, trying to feel as much of her as possible. She felt so soft and so warm. He felt her whimper against his lips when he began to gently pull away from her. He smiled, opening his eyes to see her dazed and trembling. She was a vision, and Franco wanted to stop himself from taking her back to his bed to unveil more of his desire for her. He didn't want to ruin it, so instead he thought it would be best if he'd let her go home quietly.

He slowly turned to leave but she called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back at her, a dreamy smile forming on his face. He waited for her to say anything else to him, but all he saw was her taking tentative steps towards him until she recaptured his lips into a searing and passionate kiss.

Moaning at her hidden passion, Franco wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers clawing at the silky fabric of her stunning blue dress. He pulled her flush against his body, his mouth hungrily deepening the kiss. He groaned in disappointment when she pulled away from him and hurried back to her car.

He knew he had to look like a complete fool. He couldn't stop smiling as he watched her adorably bite her bottom lip before driving away.

The remainder of the night, Franco took matters into his own hands. He reported the assault to the authorities, but was deeply disappointed to know that the warehouse was completely empty. He paced in his room, observing the wound on his left rib. He winced when he touched it. He heard footsteps approaching his door and he quickly covered his wound when Eva came in.

"Is there something wrong, Franco?" she asked, noticing him grimacing while trying to button up his shirt.

"No." he lied. "Nothing, Eva."

She gave him a look his late mother used to give him as a child whenever he was caught in a lie.

"Don't fool me." she said, walking to him, her caring eyes glued to where his wound was covered. "You left me waiting for you and you never came back."

"It wasn't my intention, Eva." he truthfully told her. "I'm very sorry."

"I heard you coming in the house earlier, but then you left again. That seems kind of odd."

"Everything is okay, Eva." he reassured her.

She stayed quiet for a moment and gestured to the bruise he was failing to cover up.

"Let me see.." she calmly ordered.

"It's nothing-"

Eva beat him to it when she carefully opened his shirt. Her calm soon transformed into a startled look of concern when she noticed the disturbing discoloration on his left rib.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed in panic. "Did something happen between you and Miss Sara?"

Franco smiled to himself, remembering his blissful moments with the young tempestuous woman he used to constantly fight in the past.

"No, I only walked Miss Sara to her car," he confessed. "But after I did so, two men attacked and beat me on my way back to the fashion store."

"I'm going to call the doctor!" she told him, her panic rising. "You need help!"

"No! It's okay, Eva." he reasoned with her. "There's no need for it. I'm okay, honestly. Just promise not to tell my brothers, please, Eva."

Eva sighed at his request. He was relieved she'd calmed down and went to fetch him a first aid kit instead.

When she left, Franco carefully laid back on his bed, reminiscing on the recent events. The memory of the feral Sarita Elizondo played like a movie in his head.

That hard woman he used to hate with every fiber of his being plagued his every core. Her fierceness when she handled the two men who beat him sent shivers down his spine. Her passion instilled in those sweet soft kisses she shared with him made him feel weak with so much emotion he never thought he'd possess. Especially for her. His enemy. But now... she's becoming something more to him.

He let out a content sigh just thinking about her. Despite what happened between them, it was all worth the scare. Something good came out from the night's disaster. That Sarita was a tornado of a woman, although she can be so sweet when she wants to be.

He remembered the passion radiating from her kiss. That kiss wasn't just anything. How could someone who used to hate him kiss with so much fervor and longing? Then it hit him like a truck...perhaps she never truly hated him.

He felt his heart strum sadly at the sheer memory of her kiss. Her passion, her care, and her vulnerability when he held her under his gaze. No other woman would have risked her life as she did. Especially for him. How did he not notice it before?

Sarita...

That woman was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Tehehe! Just wait for the next chapter... it's one of my favorite moments because it unveils more of Sarita's pain and reason to hating Franco. It's so poetic to me!
Chapter 24 coming right up! Best served with a side of romance! Thank you for reading! Muah!