The place is going to explode, and the three of us are going to be far enough away that we’re safe yet, close enough to watch it burn. To watch everyone die. Or at least, that’s what they think. I know now that I did the right thing calling Stefan. I think he’ll be able to come up with a plan crazy enough to stop these two without them finding out in time to rehash a new plan.
I leave them both with the promise that I will be there. We will all walk away from it together like all three of us are sisters as far as they know. But I am lying through my teeth.
Then, I get back in the car and make sure I take a roundabout way to where I’m going. To the private plane that’s going take me to Brazil. I don’t want there to be a chance that the sisters have some kind of surveillance the same way that Luca does. I doubt they have the same resources, but they have something.
And then, as I get on the plane and it takes off, I look at the window and say goodbye to the short life I had as the wife to Luca Ungur. I don’t know if anything we had is salvageable, or if we actually had anything at all. And it’s not like I enjoy being in the oubliette, or like I enjoyed being raped by his fucking “friends”. But I will never forget what it was like when it finally felt we were making love; what it was like to hear him call me his queen.
Maybe there will be one day where I can rip the scar tissue from my bones and my chest and be allowed to be someone’s queen. Maybe there is some Clan member out there that does want me for who I am.
I just pray that one day I’m able to give something back to them. That there will be a day when I’m not still hung up on Luca Ungur.
Chapter Seventeen
Elena
I sit on the love seat across from Stefan Dalca, my legs crossed, in a new dress I was able to buy with some of the money that Migual had given me. I wanted the dress to make me look both feminine and strong. It wasn’t particularly low cut, but it was tightfitting and black. You know, my signature color, as always.
Now, a scotch is sitting in front of both Stefan and I, as if it’s some kind of test to see if I can take this like a man. And I damn well will.
I narrow my eyes at Stefan as he leans back in his own seat, his foot over his other knee and his arm stretched back across the chair like he has no problems in the fucking world. Like we are at our leisure here. Really, we don’t have the time to sit around, but I think I can figure how this works. I have to impress him. I have to say the right things in the right way at the right fucking time. And so, I will.
I pick up the scotch and down it fast. I don’t break a sweat, I don’t choke, and I slam the glass back down on the table.
Stefan nods at me, impressed. “And see, this is why I am more okay than some of the other old hats about the fact that women have a little bit of power in the Clans now. You’d be surprised what’s hiding behind a pair of tits.”
I pretend not to be offended by the comment. And let him keep believing he’s calling the shots instead.
“So, I know we have business to discuss, but I’d like to know what happened after you got dragged out of that wedding by Luca. My curiosity is world-renowned, after all, so you must know I would have asked for all the dirty details.”
While I hadn’t thought of it, I should. He’s like the big gossip. Like this is fucking high school. But I’m not ashamed of what happened to me. So, I tell him everything. I tell him how I woke up in a cage sick as a dog. About how the cage was a bedroom. I tell him how I was tasked with loving Luca in 90 days or being killed. I even told him all the disgusting details about being raped by Luca’s friends and about the drug overdose. All that was on the table, so that he has no reason not to trust me. He knows exactly what I’m willing to do in order to make sure I get what I want out of this.
“Fuck, it’s like a god damn movie. I love every fucking minute of it. You and my wife should sit down and shoot the shit some time. I think you’d get along just fine. Presley’s considered the wild child of the South. Her father was an oil mogul until we took over his business. Found that he was preaching an anti-gay agenda and fucking assholes on the side. Literally. I think Presley’s been through some of the same things as you too. Sort of. But for right now, I guess we need to figure out what to fucking do about the Badescu sisters. Can’t say I was surprised that they’re the ones behind this. I knew that shit had to come back to bite us in the ass one day. Though, not like their father didn’t deserve every bit he got. But whoever made this final decision to exile the Badescus instead of just executing them, was way too damn soft. Just don’t ever repeat that. I’d get a lot of shit for it.”
Stefan is so fucking entertained by all of this, I just want to puke. I want to make sure it gets all over his white designer suit. But I don’t suppose it’s going to go over well if I’m going to have his help in all this. And if anyone has the resources to stop this from happening and save everyone, it’s going to be Stefan Dalca.
So, I leave it alone for now, putting it at the back of my mind that at some point, I will at least let him know what an ass he is.
“There’s one more thing.” I really didn’t want to bring it up, but it’s hurting my chest so bad just sitting on it, I just can’t go without the answers. If anyone is fucked up enough to understand Luca at all, other than me, it’s going to be Stefan. So, if anyone might know how to pull him out of this stupor, it would be him. “About Luca… I’m worried about him. I know it’s fucking ridiculous considering everything he’s done to me. But he truly has a problem. I think there are some things in his past that are doing this to him. A past with women or his past with his family… I don’t know all the details, but I also don’t want him to die before we figure out if this is something real. If he can be saved at all. And I wondered, even though it doesn’t seem like you’re necessarily close, if you might have any idea what to do. Or if you could even bring him here, get him into rehab, something.”
Stefan turns serious, and for the first time, I see a real man behind the façade. “I’m sorry, but your husband has always been like this. He’s a broken man. I know very little of his history, but I know it’s not a good one. The kind of story that always ends in tragedy. Something has always been a little bit off about him, but I would say that his parents probably made it that much fucking worse. Just like all Clan parents do. It’s like a fucking rite of passage. This is why his brother was the one who was chosen to run the Clan and not him. Though, it’s too late for that now. Not that I wouldn’t have pegged something like this to happen at some point anyway. If you hadn’t taken Isaac out, Luca eventually would have.”
I let that sink in, and of course it all makes sense. It was exactly why Luca had his name put on the marriage license instead of his brother’s. If I hadn’t done what I did, at some point he would have anyway. I still would’ve ended up in that cage. Funny how fate is like that. Funny how I thought I would ever be free when this was basically predestined all along.
“I do wish I could help. And I know that it doesn’t seem genuine coming from a man like me, but even I know what fucking love feels like. I think there is something strong between the two of you, otherwise, you wouldn’t still be here. You would’ve taken that fucking money and ran and let us all die. But unfortunately, fate and strong wills will play their course, no matter what we do. We’re just fucking humans, right? But I do have a plan. I’m pretty confident I can save everyone, and I thank you for letting me know this information when you could have run. Because I do love my wife, despite what I seem like. And I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, wanting to change the subject from Luca as soon as possible. Yet again, I don’t want to fall apart in front of someone that I need to stay strong for. Even though he’s showing me a little bit of vulnerability, I just can’t afford that right now.
“Needless to say, I know some seedy men. These seedy men owe me some favors. I’m positive that these men can disarm a bomb without an issue. So, the two of us will be going to London
early. I need you to make sure that you keep face with these women so that they don’t suspect a fucking thing. They cannot know that you’ve been with me. They cannot know anything is going wrong with Luca other than typical marital strife from having been thrust together. Or that you’re planning to help the Clans at all. Do we get each other?”
I nod. Of course, I know this, but I understand his skepticism considering I’m not part of the Clans at all. Other than through marriage, a sham marriage at that.
“Good. My plan is this. We catch these women red-handed. And I plan on doing that by shocking them that the explosion doesn’t happen. You don’t go with them. When they leave to safety, you stay behind. They will not be expecting that, and they will worry something’s happened to you. They’ll have to risk coming back, and when they do and they don’t die? They’ll know that the jig is up. Or that something went wrong with the bomb. That will bring them straight to us and make it obvious that they expected something to happen. And the Clans will be on them. I’ll get to reveal to everyone what we know and who saved them. And then we put bullets in their heads.”
“Bullets? That’s all?” I raise my eyebrow at him, only half teasing. I would expect some kind of questioning and torture out of a situation like this, but maybe Stefan likes it cut and dry.
Then, he takes a shot at me, but I have to admit, it’s a little bit amusing. “Well, we can’t all go around stabbing people in the eye with hairpins, can we?”
I give him a look. “I guess not. So, can you show me where I will be staying? I’m kind of exhausted, no offense.”
“Of course.” He calls one of his servants over to me. And I’m taken into a small room with just a bed and a closet. Interestingly enough, there are a few dresses in the closet. Looking at them, some of them are a little small for me, or at least snug. These must be left over from Presley. Maybe dresses that she doesn’t like for some reason.
I wait until I know I’m completely alone, and then I shut and lock the door before getting down on my knees by the bedside. Growing up Catholic, I was forced to pray every day, sometimes two or three times a day. I would have to pray about meals, pray about bedtime, and pray for world peace and that kind of fake shit.
But, despite the lies that I told my father, I haven’t prayed in a very long time. I’ve been conflicted about my faith considering all the things that I’ve seen even in Christianity. But, there hasn’t been a doubt that there’s someone or something up there running this show. I just don’t know who or what they want from us animals down here.
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t care. I need to do this.
“Dear Lord in Heaven, I don’t know how to do this. It’s been a long time, and I have mostly been coached in all my prayers in the past. But this is going to be raw and real. I hope you can appreciate that. I don’t really know for sure if you’re merciful or somebody to be feared. I don’t know anything about you personally. I only know what has been taught to me. But I’m begging you right now for two things and two things only. The first thing is, I need this plan to work. And while a lot of it is selfish, I don’t want to see innocent people die. Even though the Clans are not good people, they have wives, they have children, and they don’t deserve to be blown up over getting rid of someone who was bad. The second thing I ask for is for you to save my husband’s soul. I know he doesn’t deserve it. And maybe I don’t deserve to have something done for me either. But whether or not we end up together, I know that his soul has been destroyed by something in his life. Probably something that was out of his control. I know this because I know what it feels like to have your life planned out for you, to have trauma in your life that you couldn’t control. It creates a darkness in you that other people can never understand. And I ask for his soul to be scrubbed of some of this darkness, enough of it that he can pull out of this. Please, can you help me?”
Chapter Eighteen
Luca
This damn cell phone buzzes for the third time today, and I pull it out of my pocket to see that, yet again, I’m getting a call from Stefan Dalca.
He is the last fucking person I want to talk to right now. Honestly? I just want to drown my sorrow in the fucking pity party that I have going on here. I sent away the one woman that I thought could replace Mariana in my life. I sent her away because clearly, she didn’t believe that I was telling the truth about starting to have some kind of feelings for her. Can I fucking blame her? I mean, look at how I treated her. Look at how I treated all the women in my life.
But I don’t know how to do any fucking thing else. So, since I’m just a big fuck up, I might as well be done for good.
I hit the ignore button for the third time on Stefan’s phone call, and take the gun out of Mario’s hand.
Mario is just one of the many men that come here to play. I call him a friend, but I don’t exactly have friends. I have men that like certain tastes and take advantage of the fact that I can give them those tastes. Namely, the many women that are now hanging around here and being played with like the toys that they are. The toys they’re paid to be.
But, unlike usual, I have no fucking desire to touch them at all. It feels like they’re a disease on humanity. And I think it’s because Elena is still in my fucking head.
The last time we had a moment together was when she was laying in my bed after I tried to turn her into one of these women in order to prove to myself that I didn’t feel anything for her. But I couldn’t. Then I went and fucking called her my queen while she was sleeping in my arms.
And then I sent her away.
I’m so fucked up, that no power that God or Satan even has can save me. Hell, Satan wouldn’t even want me as his henchmen. My soul is that black.
I cock the gun and put it to my head. My finger on the trigger.
“Well, are you going to fucking pull it or not?” Mario asks; that’s the drunk angry man coming out of him. I can’t remember how many bottles of gin he has downed, his personal favorite, but I know by his attitude it’s too many. But who am I to stop his party? At least one of us can have a good time.
I was sure that more pills and more alcohol could make me feel good. I’ve tried rum, vodka, and tequila, but it only takes the edge off. So, Valium it is.
I pop three more pills, one of them something I don’t even know what it is. It’s something that Mario brought with him when I asked him to come. Right along with the gun that’s in my hand right now and pressing hard against my temple.
I shut my eyes fucking tight. And then I pull the trigger.
Bam.
Now there is a click, but no bullet comes out. I guess I’m still winning this game of Russian Roulette.
The phone rings again. What the fuck, Stefan?
I guess I have to fucking answer this one.
“You don’t have to wait for me to get back. Have some fun.” That’s what I say to Mario when I walk away to get some peace and quiet to tell Stefan to go fuck off.
“Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone today? It’s not like we’ve really had any conversations before. I can’t fucking stand you.”
“Just as blunt as ever I see,” Stefan says, and I can almost feel his smirk through the phone. Everything is a fucking joke to him. That’s why I can’t stand him. Yeah, we’re both crazy, but it’s a way different kind of crazy. He’s entertained with all this Clan shit. If he were here, in this house, he wouldn’t be touching women either; he’d be sitting back and watching the show, analyzing all this like some damn shrink.
He almost kills the fun more than somebody like Ion would. The king basically bows down to his woman and her needs.
Not that Mariana doesn’t deserve something like that. She deserves a man to bow down and kiss her feet. To do more than that. But since I’m not that man, I kind of like knocking Ion down a few pegs once in a while.
In privacy, of course, because otherwise, it would get me fucking killed. Then again, I don’t know if I really mind that right now.
“Seriously, why do you keep calling me?”
“Well, I wanted to know if you knew where your wife was? See, I could’ve sworn when I watched you take her out of that hotel room, passed out and tied up, that you are the kind of guy who could keep a woman under control, but apparently not. You see, she’s in my house right now. Couldn’t you give her what she needed?”
Now, I’m ready to fucking kill. Either he’s playing games with me and shitting me about the fact that Elena is there, or he’s telling the truth. I don’t know for sure if he would cheat on Presley like that. Or disrespect another Clan leader like this. But then again, I know for fact there are some that are fucking pissed I’m the Clan leader. Some may not even see me as legit at this point.
I close my eyes as I try to see through the fog of alcohol and pills I’ve created in my brain and think clearly about the truth of all this. But it’s so fucking hard right now, I’m beginning to regret all those pills even though they numbed me for a little while.
“You better be fucking shitting me. Not to mention the fact that I can keep her just fine if I want. I sent her packing. Lover’s spat. It’s a long story.”
“Well, you better get your fucking wits about you. Your wife, Elena Unger as she’s referring to herself, told me a pretty interesting story. The story about the Badescu sisters and the event in London in a week. I think you need to know what the fuck is going on. Because it could mean all of our heads, not just yours. I know maybe yours isn’t on straight, and maybe you don’t care to have it straight. But I could bet you might care about Elena’s head and whether or not she loses it for real.”
Heretic: The Clans Book Ten Page 11
