by LP Lovell
The plane rockets down the runway and I watch Rafael’s compound disappear beneath us. He authorized the use of one of his planes, but yet again, he didn’t come and say goodbye. Twice I’ve left Mexico with a broken heart and a cold shoulder from him. The tragedy of it all is what hurts the most. The knowledge that I will never have that all-encompassing sense of belonging with anyone else. That we are destined to love each other and miss each other forever. The pain will ebb away, but the scar will always remain. Rafael is the wound I will never quite recover from.
The plane lands with a bump, and I jolt awake, gripping the armrests hard enough that my nails ache. Una is up and out of her seat before the plane has even stopped moving. She’s eager to see Dante. I know she is. She’s been away from him for over a week. A week in Mexico, and yet it felt like months. With a heavy heart, I stand up, and when the plane stops, we descend the steps onto the runway.
I expect one of Nero’s men to be waiting for us, but instead, Nero himself leans against the hood of a black Range Rover.
“Morte.”
My sister smiles, and when she reaches him, he picks her up around the waist, pulling her to him. Their kiss is so intense that I have to look away. A pang of jealousy tears through me, a simple longing for that soul-deep connection that they have. I miss it already.
I quietly get into the passenger seat of the car and stare out of the window as Tommy loads the bags. Una and Nero get in the back, talking in hushed voices between them. I tune them out, focusing on the New York skyline that sits on the horizon. The concrete jungle seems too clean, too shiny and organized. I crave the chaos that is Juarez, and I never thought I would say that after being imprisoned there for years.
“You okay, Anna?” I turn at the sound of Tommy’s lilting Irish twang.
“I’m fine.”
His brows pinch together, and he swipes a hand through his red hair before nodding and starting the car. We leave the airport and drive straight into the heavy city traffic. Car horns blare and the subtle scent of garbage filters through the air vents. People walk down the sidewalk in their pristine business suits, all in a hurry with somewhere to urgent be. I feel like I’m standing still, and the entire world is just continuing to spin around me because I don’t know what to do now. Beneath the sharp ache of loss is an undeniable panic that this is it. Alexandru is dead. Dominges is dead. The girls were saved. I could keep going, find more girls, kill more bad men, but Rafe was right. When does it stop? How far will I descend into the darkness before there’s no coming back for me?
The simple fact is that I’m looking for purpose because without him, I have none. Without the cartel, I feel lost. I need to change that, but I can’t do it here. New York will never be my home.
As soon as we get back to the penthouse, I go to my room and unpack my bag before re-packing it with clean clothes. I’m just about to take a shower when my phone rings. I scramble to answer it in case it’s Bella. But it’s Lucas’ name that pops up on the screen.
“Lucas,” I answer, and I can hear the sadness in my own voice.
“Anna.” There’s a pause. “You didn’t say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry.” I left him sleeping in the cinema room. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to him, to admit that it’s the last time I’m going to see him. “There wasn’t time,” I lie.
“You’re coming back though, right?” He sounds so hopeful.
“No, Lucas. Rafael and I…”
“He loves you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “That’s the hardest part.” If he didn’t love me, this would be so much easier. Instead, I’m left denying him the woman he loves because I don’t want to be her anymore.
“What will you do?”
I inhale a deep breath. “I’m going to go to New Zealand.”
“What?”
“There’s nothing for me here.”
“But that’s half the world away, Anna. What if something happens to you?”
I half smile at that. “Like what, Lucas? Get sex trafficked? Taken by a cartel boss? Or maybe encounter an assassin?”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
“I can take care of myself.” He still see’s me as Rafe does. This helpless girl. I’m not.
“I’ll come with you,” he offers.
“No, you won’t.” I laugh at his enthusiasm. ‘The cartel needs you.”
“What are you going to do for money? Where will you live?”
“I’ll get a job like everyone else.”
“What if you can’t get one?”
I love him for not wanting me to leave, but I know this is what’s best.
“I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“Anna. Please just come back. If you walk away now, you’ll regret it.”
“I love you, Lucas.” And then I hang up before the emotions get the better of me and my best friend hears it.
“So you want to leave?” I jump and whirl around, finding Una leaning against the doorframe.
I place my hand over my hammering heart. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why not? This isn’t my life, Una. It’s yours.”
“And New Zealand is yours?”
I drop my chin to my chest. “No, Juarez was mine, but we all have to move on at some point. It’s a big world out there.”
Her usually hard eyes soften, and she steps forward, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in a rare show of affection. “I know you’re hurt, Anna. But please don’t just run away.”
Her rare kindness has my emotions at breaking point. My eyes prickle, and then a stray tear breaks down my cheek.
“I have to. I need something of my own, more than just revenge and hate.”
“Just wait until tomorrow. Sleep on it. If you still want to go, I’ll take you to the airport myself.”
“Okay.” I’ll stay here tonight, but then I have to start my life, without my sister. Without Rafael.
72
Rafael
I knock back my third glass of Brandy, relishing in the burning sensation as it washes down my throat.
There’s a knock on the office door, and I sigh. “Come in.”
Carlos steps inside without his crutches but limping on his wounded leg. “Boss, we might have a problem.”
“What?”
He steps outside, and then drags a girl back into the room. “This one was hiding a phone.”
A spark of anger ignites in my gut. There’s only one reason she’d hide a phone. She’s a rat. I help these girls, and this is what I get. She keeps her head tilted down, dark hair falling in front of her face like a protective wall. Pain spikes through my chest because she reminds me so much of Anna when she first came here. “Who are you working for?” I ask. It’s sure as shit not Dominges anymore. She trembles at the sound of my voice, and her shoulders slump so much that she’s physically curled in on herself. Carlos grabs her wrist again, and a whimper slips past her lips.
“Give me the phone,” I demand.
Carlos places it on my desk in front of me, and I power on the little burner. I go to the contacts, and there’s only one number. I’d usually call and see who was on the other end, but I don’t need to. I know that number by heart.
“Anna,” I breathe, falling back in my chair. That fucking pain intensifies. My Anna: good and kind and selfless… she gave this girl a phone with her number on. “Anna gave you this phone?”
She peeks at me through her hair, green eyes the shade of polished Jade. “Y-yes.” She can’t have given all of them phones. Which means she took a liking to this girl. She wanted to protect her or at the very least comfort her. “She said if I need her, she’ll come back,” the girl whispers.
“Of course she did.” Bracing my elbows on the desk, I clasp the phone in both hands and touch it to my forehead. “What’s your name?”
“Bella.”
“Can you cook, Bella?”
Her gaze darts from me to Carlos, suspicion coat
ing her features. “Yes.”
“Good. Carlos, find Bella a room. She’s going to be our new maid.”
“Boss.” He nods and goes to grab Bella again, but she flinches. “Gently, Carlos,” I warn.
He gestures for her to leave the room and she does, keeping space between them at all times.
The door hasn’t even closed when Lucas bursts in. “What now?” I heave a sigh as I get up and pour another glass of Brandy.
“Anna’s going to New Zealand,” he blurts.
I pause with my glass halfway to my mouth. I can’t help the small smile that touches my lips. She said she wanted to go, and now she is. “Good.”
“Good? How can you want her to go to the other side of the world?”
“She wanted to go.”
He shakes his head, his jaw clenching as his cheeks turn an unhealthy shade of red. “This is your fault!”
I still. “Tread very fucking carefully, Lucas.”
He swipes a hand down his face, seeming to remember himself. “She’s upset. She’s going to go there with no money, no job, nowhere to live…”
“I know you love her, which is why I’ll let this slide. I’ll sort it.”
He looks like he wants to say more. Instead, he just backs away and walks out of the room.
Opening my office drawer, I take out a packet of cigars, removing one. I place it between my lips and light it, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs. Picking up my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find Nero’s name. My finger lingers over the call button for a second before I press it.
“Rafael.”
“Nero. I’m sending you money.”
“Am I due a refund?” he asks, humor lacing his voice.
“It’s for Anna.”
There’s a beat of silence. “I see.”
“Please make sure she gets it. I’ll set up an account for her on a more long-term basis.”
“I’ll make sure she gets it, Rafe.”
“Thank you.” I hang up. That’s it. Not only have I pushed Anna away, but I’m now facilitating her running half the globe away from me. And why wouldn’t I? All I want is for her to be happy, to have a safe and normal life. If she can find that in New Zealand, then I’ll do everything I can to ensure it because I love her.
73
Anna
I think Una hoped I’d wake up with doubts this morning, but I have none. Nero, Una, this place…it all just reminds me of Rafael. I need to live my life, not live the shadow of the life I really want. That’s all I’ll do if I stay here.
Once I’ve showered and brushed my teeth, I toss on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The house is quiet as I walk down the stairs, until I hear Dante’s grizzly whine. I round the doorway to the kitchen and find a shirtless Nero with Dante propped on his hip. He’s always hungry at this time in the morning, and Nero’s one-handed attempt to make his breakfast isn’t going down well.
“Here.” I move in front of him and take over making oatmeal. I stir honey into it and hand it to Nero. “You’re good.”
“Thanks.” He takes it from me and places it on the breakfast bar while he fastens Dante into his highchair. Nero looks tired this morning. Out of sorts.
“You okay?” I ask, pressing the start button on the coffee machine.
“Yeah. A week with this guy makes sleeping fun.”
“You know you could just ask Margot to stay. She’d happily do it.” The woman is obsessed with the kid.
“It’s alright.” He glances at his son, an indulgent smile pulling at his lips as he holds a spoonful of oatmeal in front of him. “He’s grouchy without his mum. Poor Margot would be pulling her hair out.”
I smile at the sight of the two of them together. Somehow, despite being the hardened killer that she is, my sister has managed to carve out a tiny slice of tranquility and belonging right here.
“Can you take over for a minute?” Nero asks, handing me the bowl.
“Sure.” Dante takes a mouthful, only to spit it down his chin.
Nero disappears but comes back only moments later clutching an envelope. Dante is already squirming, wanting to go down. I pull him from his chair and place him in the playpen in the corner of the kitchen.
“This is for you,” Nero says. I turn around and watch as he slides the envelope across the breakfast bar towards me. “What is it?”
“It’s from Rafael.”
Frowning, I take the brown envelope and open it, seeing a wad of money inside. “What is this?” I ask, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. He’s giving me money? Like he’s paying me off.
“He called and said he was sending me money for you. He’s setting up a bank account for the long term.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t need or want his money.”
“I’m only the messenger.” He pours a cup of coffee. “But if you’re going to New Zealand you’ll need it. As well as this.” He takes something from the pocket of his track pants and slides it over the worktop. Picking it up, I see that it’s an American passport. Inside is a picture of me with the name Anna Verdi. “Is this a joke?” I ask.
He smirks on a shrug. “I had Tommy get the papers last night. He wasn’t the most imaginative with the surname.”
“Why not Ivanov?”
“Because it’s clearly not American, and it’s an American passport.”
“And Verdi is?”
His smirk turns into a full grin. “You needed a passport, you have one.”
“Fine. Thank you.”
Una steps into the kitchen, dressed in a tight blue dress. I almost do a double take. She looks at Nero, and he holds her gaze for a moment, some silent conversation passing between them before he silently collects Dante and leaves the room. That was weird.
“What was that?” I ask with a frown.
“Anna, I need to talk to you.”
“Una, I’m not changing my mind. I’m going to New Zealand.”
She shakes her head. “Sasha has been in Russia for the last few days.”
“Okay.”
“He’s found something. I had to wait for him to be one hundred percent sure to tell you…” My mind works at warp speed trying to think what could possibly have my sister looking so on edge. “You…have a child.”
I laugh. “No, I don’t. I think I’d remember that.”
“Sasha said that the mother is a surrogate, but the egg was yours. Taken at some time while you were at the facility.” My blood runs cold, and the possibilities start flying through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. Nicholai wanted to get me pregnant, but I’m sterile. Could he have taken eggs from me? There were multiple times where I was drugged.
“That’s not possible,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Anna.”
“Nicholai is dead.”
“Yes, but he’s been replaced, and the Elite breeding program is now in full swing.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to think. “I can’t have children.”
“I know,” she whispers.
Turning away from her, I walk out of the kitchen. I need a second to process this. I move over to the huge windows and look out over the city below. Morning light creeps through the tall buildings, bathing half the city in shadows. And that’s how I feel. Like I’m standing right on that cusp between the light and the dark, unsure which way I’m about to fall. I can sense Una lingering behind me, hovering.
Questions start burning away at me as I truly process the reality of this. “Is it a girl or a boy?” A pointless question, because what does it matter?
“A little girl.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat as my chest clenches painfully. “How old?”
“Just two weeks.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I imagine her, a tiny baby, in that place, without anyone to show her kindness. I’ve been a captive for half my life, but this is so much worse because she’ll never know freedom. She won’t even know that she’s missing a mother, a fath
er…a life.
“Can Sasha get her out?” I ask tentatively, the faintest trace of hope trying to take hold. Silence. I turn to face my sister and find her gaze fixed on the floor. “Una?”
“You have to understand, you can’t just walk out of that facility with a child.”
“You got Dante out.”
“That was different. Sasha was trusted then. I was on the inside. And Dante was a one-off child at the time. They didn’t have the security fully in place to guard him.”
“So, you’re saying you can’t save her?”
I’m not sure what to feel. Hope? Despair? My life has never been my own, and I’ve never really had the luxury of being able to even think about or consider the fact that I can’t have children. It was never something that was a possibility or consideration, and therefore I never mourned what I would surely never have anyway.
But now I think about it, about my child out there somewhere…all I want is to protect her. It’s a need so fierce, I can think of nothing else.
“That’s not good enough. You can’t just tell me I have a daughter and follow it with the fact that I can’t get to her or save her from that place. Why even tell me if that’s the case?”
“I’m working on it, okay? It just takes time. Nero is trying to negotiate through the political stuff.”
“Political stuff?” My temper spikes and my fists clench. “She’s not a business deal, Una.” My sister actually looks sad for a moment. “To them, you know she is.”
I move past her. She goes to follow me, but I hold my hand up. “Stop.”
I make my way upstairs and into my room. With each step I take, I can feel myself sinking further and further into this panic. All the time I’ve spent trying to be strong, but right now I feel so weak and helpless. All this time, I’ve listened to my sister, but where is she now? She can’t help me. Slamming the bedroom door, I rush to the bedside table and pick up my phone, hysteria creeping up on me. My chest feels tight, and my hands tremble as I pick the device up and dial a number.
