“What’s troubling you?” I ask Cristian an hour into the movie when it’s clear he’s distracted. He’s been staring at the screen as if he’s looking through it, his fingers idly playing with my hair as I lean against him.
“What?”
“You totally spaced out.” I rub my hand up and down his arm. “Anything I can help with?”
“Sorry.” He kisses me softly. “I’ve got a lot on my mind this week.”
I’m about to press, to encourage him to speak to me, when I think better of it. I don’t want to know. I don’t want Cristian to tell me anything important I would be expected to pass on. So, I shut my mouth and snuggle back into his side.
When the credits roll fifty minutes later, he turns off the TV and takes my hand, leading me out of the living room and into his bedroom. He kisses me softly as he slowly undresses me, and I cling to him with a desperation that is only mounting with each passing day. I’m wholeheartedly embracing the fantasy of us because I’m so in love with him, and I’m not ready to face reality yet.
Placing me on the bed on my back, Cristian covers me with his naked body, propping himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush me. His lips worship my mouth before moving down my body, gently kissing and caressing every inch of bare skin until I’m a writhing mess of need and longing. When he parts my thighs and blows on my sex, the moan that leaves my mouth is nothing short of sinful. “Cristian, please. I need you inside me now.”
“Let me make sure you’re ready.” He sucks on my inner thighs before swiping his tongue along my slit. “You’re always so wet for me,” he adds, driving one thick finger inside. My pussy clenches around his digit, coating his skin in a layer of my juices, before he removes it. Cristian kneels between my thighs, positioning his straining length at my entrance as he makes a meal out of sucking his finger while fucking me with his eyes. “I love the way you taste. It’s my new favorite thing in the world.”
My core pulses painfully, and my hips buck up of their own accord. “Please, Cristian.”
“Baby.” When he leans forward to kiss my lips, the tip of his dick pushes inside me. “You don’t have to beg. You need me, you have me,” he confirms, sliding home in one slow, deep drive.
Something settles deep within me as he fills me up. A sense of completion, of being whole. Like a puzzle piece that’s always been missing now slots into place. Contentment and belonging bloom in my chest, and I never want to stop feeling like this.
Cristian makes sweet, sweet love to me this time, and this tender exploration is equally as intoxicating as the more frantic wild monkey sex we’ve been having up to now. Hands touch and mouths meet as we move in perfect harmony in the most intense, intimate way. My legs wrap around his waist, and my hands trail over his shoulders, down his back, and over his sculpted cheeks. His gaze spears me with a host of emotions as we move closer to the finish line, and it matches everything I’m feeling inside. We maintain eye contact as we come together, and I have never felt closer to any man in my life.
I am so, so in love with him, and it terrifies me.
Cristian falls asleep first tonight, and I spend far too long staring at him. He has quickly become my entire world, and I don’t want to lose him, but it’s inevitable. Closing my eyes, I force these thoughts from my mind because I don’t want to think like that. Not after what we’ve just shared. If we only have this week, I want it to be the best week of my life.
Cristian is in the shower when I wake the following morning, so I tiptoe to my bedroom to retrieve the gift and card. I’m in the middle of wrapping the framed photo when my cartel cell vibrates with an incoming message. Acid crawls up my throat. I’m tempted not to look, but it will only be worse for Mom if I leave it unread. My fingers tremble as I open the message, and tears instantly spring to my eyes. Pablo has been sending a daily photo. A reminder not to forget my mission or the reason I agreed to it. Slapping a hand over my mouth to muffle my strangled cry, I stare in abject horror at the screen. Mom is naked, lying sideways on the bed as multiple men violate her in different ways. Her battered body seems slow to heal, her skin still mottled with bruises and cuts. The glazed look in her eyes is the only comfort I glean from the picture. I’m glad she’s drugged and not fully conscious. The pain must be unbearable.
How will my mother ever come back from this?
The trauma of what she’s endured will remain with her for the rest of her life.
Knots pinch in my gut as pain pokes holes all over my body. This is too much—for her and for me. Silent tears roll down my face as the cell vibrates with a text.
I want information by Sunday or your mother dies.
My fingers fumble over the keypad as I type a reply.
I have a week from this Sunday and I need that extra time.
His response is swift and brutal.
This Sunday. Time is up.
That bastard never sticks to his word, and I know he does it on purpose to add to the torment. I hate him, and I want him to die a gruesome death. Anger rears up inside me, and I’m imagining killing that prick a hundred different ways as I finish wrapping Cristian’s gift. It’s not long before my anger gives way to the usual gamut of emotions: fear, guilt, remorse, and an abundance of pain. I’m grateful I wrote the card last night, as there’s no way I’d be able to hold a pen and write anything that would make sense right now.
Heading to the bathroom, I splash water on my face and dry it before applying tinted moisturizer to disguise my blotchy skin. After spritzing on some perfume, I grab the gift and card and return to Cristian’s bedroom, where I find him in the middle of dressing. He’s got pants, socks, and shoes on, but he’s bare-chested as he clasps one of his expensive watches on his wrist.
“Good morning, beautiful.” His instant smile fades a little as he looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
I force myself to be cheery. “Nothing is wrong.” I smile widely as I walk toward him and hold out the gift. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Cristian.”
He looks stunned, glancing between me and the gift with wide eyes. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Of course, I did. You’re my man, and it’s customary to exchange gifts on Valentine’s Day.” Truth be told, I’m usually pretty cynical when it comes to the annual event, but it’s probably because I hadn’t found a man I wanted to celebrate it with until now. “It’s only something small, though I am going to make you breakfast if you’re not in a rush.”
“I can make time.” Threading his fingers in mine, he pulls me over to the edge of the bed. We sit side by side as he rips through the gift wrap to get to his gift. “Sloane.” His tone is full of wonder. “This is perfect. So perfect.” His fingers trail over the photo Tullia took of us with reverence.
“I had one printed and framed for me too. It’s a great pic.”
“Thank you.” He kisses me deeply. “I love it.” He gets up to place the picture on his bedside table before returning to haul me onto his lap. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” Holding my face in his hands, he dots kisses all over my skin.
Hugging him close, I savor the strength and comfort he brings to everything.
“Stay here.” He puts me down carefully on the bed and walks off into his closet, emerging a few minutes later wearing an unbuttoned dark-gray shirt and carrying a blue Tiffany’s box and a card. “For you.” He places them in my hands before sitting and returning me to his lap with my legs to the side.
My heart is jumping around my chest as I pry the box open, gasping at the beautiful pear-shaped aquamarine and diamond pendant. “The vibrancy reminded me of your eyes,” he explains, lifting the platinum chain from the box. “Hold up your hair.”
Bunching my hair in my hands, I lift it up and angle my head so Cristian can put the pendant on.
“Beautiful, like its owner,” he says when it’s nestled on my chest, glinting and glistening under the overhead light.
“This is too much,” I croak, staring at it in awe as I let my hair down. I have never owned anything so special, and I’m sure it cost a fortune.
“I want to spoil you.” He peers deep into my eyes. “And it doesn’t end here.” His lips kick up at the corners as his fingers sweep across my cheek. “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight, and I have some items being delivered this afternoon.”
“You aren’t real, Cristian,” I whisper, swiveling on his lap so I’m straddling him. “Things like this don’t happen to me.”
“They do now.” He claims my mouth in a heart-melting kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes. “You’re precious to me, Sloane.” His thumb swipes across my lips. “I want to take away your pain and put a permanent smile on your face.”
I’m so close to blurting I’m in love with him, but how can I tell him when my deception lies between us, and he doesn’t even know it? “You help more than you know.”
“One day, you’ll tell me all your secrets.” He places my feet on the ground as he stands. “But until then, I can be patient.” Lacing his fingers through my hair, he kisses me slowly, and my legs almost go out from under me. “I do believe someone promised me breakfast.” His teasing smile coaxes one from me.
“Coming right up, sir.” I flash him a flirty smile.
He groans, adjusting himself in his pants, but his eyes are still smiling. “I need to rearrange a couple of things, but I’ll meet you in the kitchen when I’m done.”
“Sounds like a plan. It won’t take me too long to cook it.” I did all the baking yesterday and hid the evidence so he wouldn’t find it and ruin the surprise.
“You’re spoiling me, too. I like it.” He playfully swats my ass before leaving the bedroom.
I’m moving to follow when my eyes land on his laptop bag on the floor. It’s unzipped, and a few folders peek out, silently beckoning me. Sticking my head out the door, I check to ensure Cristian is gone before running to his bag and removing the folders. I don’t have time to think, only act, so I pull my cell out from the pocket of my jeans lying on the chair, and snap pics of the folder contents. It looks like schedules, something Pablo requested, but I don’t know if these are the right ones. Blood rushes to my head and rings in my ears, and guilt is like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. Returning the folders to the bag exactly how they were, I bundle up my clothes, then take my cell and head back to my bedroom.
Locking my door, I transfer the photos from one cell to the other, deleting all evidence from the cell phone Cristian gave me. Sweat beads on my brow as I hover over the message button, debating with myself over whether to send them. I have a bit more time, and I don’t need to make the decision now, so I toss my cartel cell back in its hiding place in my closet, dress in jeans, slides, and a cute top, and walk to the kitchen to fix breakfast.
“Wow, this looks incredible,” Cristian says fifteen minutes later when he joins me.
The table is laden with an array of baked Italian goods, including almond biscotti, which Beatrice told me is his favorite. There’s also sliced fresh fruit, plain yogurt, bagels, and creamy scrambled eggs with crispy bacon. “It’s an ode to Italy and the US,” I joke, nudging him toward a chair. “Sit. I’ll get the coffee and orange juice.”
“I think I’ll have to take some of this to go. I’ll never eat everything.”
“I’ll make you a packed lunch,” I holler over my shoulder as I fix his coffee the way he likes it. Cristian showed me how to use the coffee machine because that witch Isa was too much of a snake to do it. Pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into two glasses, I carry them with the coffee on a tray.
We chat casually as we eat, and I push everything else aside, pretending this is real and I’m not the absolute worst person in the world.
Cristian kisses me slowly at the door, and I cling to him, not wanting him to leave. It’s easy to forget when his arms are around me, and I need that so badly right now.
“Fuck, it’s so hard to leave you,” he says when we finally break apart. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“I already miss you,” I truthfully say, handing him the small bag. “Don’t forget your lunch.”
“A guy could get used to this.” He squeezes my ass before planting one last kiss on my lips. “Have a great day, beautiful. Be ready at six for our date.”
“Don’t work too hard,” I call after him, watching until he disappears into the elevator.
Closing the door, I flatten my back against it and draw deep breaths as everything I’m trying so hard not to think about resurfaces in my addled mind.
I clean up the kitchen on autopilot, my thoughts hugely conflicted as I walk toward my bedroom like I’m walking the plank to my doom.
I sit on my bed for eternity, holding my cartel cell in my hand, debating with myself, but I can’t do it. I can’t send those pics. Pablo asked for transport schedules, but I don’t know what he plans to do with them. What if he hurts people to get back at Cristian? I already feel sick thinking of those women and kids in the files I sent him when I first got here. It feels like I made the biggest mistake sending those, and if anything has happened to them, I’ll never forgive myself. What if this is another mistake? And how can I live with myself if I betray Cristian like this? I love him, and my need to protect him is riding me hard. Continuing to play Pablo’s game will hurt others. How can I go on knowing Pablo intends to kill the man I love?
The simple truth is I can’t.
I cannot let him hurt Cristian or Elio or anyone else.
Images of Mom’s beaten body flood my mind, and an agonized scream tears from deep in my soul. If I don’t do this, he’ll kill my mother. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Cradling my head in my hands, I rock back and forth as I argue nonstop with myself.
Make it stop.
Somebody, please, make it stop.
Picking up the cell, my finger lingers over the send button for ages until I throw it on the bed and flop down on my back. I can’t make myself do it. It feels totally wrong. I want to save my mother, but not at the expense of other people. She wouldn’t want that either, but how do I live with myself if I sacrifice her so others live?
Round and round it goes, driving me to the brink of insanity.
Like I told myself earlier, I don’t need to make the decision now. I have until Sunday. So, I secure my cartel cell in its hiding place without sending anything to Pablo. This isn’t the time to make rushed decisions. Too many lives are at stake. There is time to think my options through. Is there a way to protect everyone and save Mom? I don’t know, but I’m going to try.
