“You’re sure it’s her mother?” I ask, smoothing a hand across my chest.
“Yes. I’ve seen the coroner’s report. It was gruesome reading.” Gia flattens a hand to her stomach. “She had been badly beaten and horrifically assaulted. Not all her injuries were recent. There was evidence of older abuse, older injuries.”
“The poor woman.” Elisa’s eyes flood with tears. “What she must have endured. Sloane too.”
“Don’t paint her as a victim,” Gia snaps. “Sloane had choices. She knew what she was doing.”
“How can you be so cruel, Gigi?” Elisa cries. “You were kidnapped and traumatized also!”
“I don’t need a reminder, Lise.” Gia cracks her fingers. “The difference is I fought back, and I didn’t put innocent lives at risk.”
“What if they’d taken your mother?” Elisa says, getting to her feet. “What if they were beating and raping Frankie if you didn’t do what they asked? What would you’ve done then?”
Gia stands. “I wouldn’t have risked a little boy I professed to love no matter what!”
“She took a bullet for Elio, and Cristian said she didn’t know they were going to target him. How can you not see she did what she could to protect them?”
“Gia is right,” I say. “Sloane had choices. All she had to do was tell me, and I would’ve helped her.”
“I’m sure she wanted to,” Elisa says, reclaiming her seat. “But she was clearly terrified. We could all see she was troubled. We should’ve tried harder to get to the truth.”
Gia barks out a laugh. “Hell no, Lise. We’re not putting this on us. We were her friends. She had ample opportunity to confide in us. She knows Cristian is a good guy. There was no reason to hold back from telling him.”
“You’re forgetting she wasn’t brought up in our world. She was a college student on vacation taken by the goddamned Sinaloa cartel. They had her for months! Think about it! What do you think they were doing to her to make her comply?”
“Stop.” Bile churns in my gut. “I can’t hear this.”
“You need to, Cristian,” Elisa softly says. “Sloane was obviously traumatized, terrorized, and depressed. We know they were watching her, sending her regular threats to comply. She wasn’t sleeping, and she was exhausted. I can’t imagine what she must’ve gone through.” Elisa sniffles. “How could anyone make sound decisions with all that stress and pressure?”
“She still had options, Lili. She should’ve trusted the man she was sleeping with,” Caleb says, speaking up for the first time.
“I don’t understand any of you.” Tears spill down Elisa’s cheeks. “Maybe it’s because I remember what my mom was like when she was married to that prick who hurt her all the time. I haven’t forgotten what she was like back then. She’s spoken to me about it. How fear and stress immobilized her. How she did things because he threatened to hurt us. You can’t know how Sloane was thinking or feeling. She was thrust into a trap, caught between a cartel and the mafia. Can you at least try to imagine what it must be like for someone sheltered from the evils of this world to be thrown headfirst into a living nightmare? She must’ve been so scared, and now she’s running for her life.”
“Stop it,” I shout, unable to hear this. “Just stop, Elisa.” I get up and pace, thoroughly conflicted.
“Watch your fucking tone, Cristian,” Caleb warns.
“How can you defend her, Elisa?” I ask in a calmer tone because my best friend is right. I can’t take this out on his wife even if her soft heart is pissing me off right now.
“How can you not?” Her eyes probe mine. “I thought you loved her.”
“I did and she fucking betrayed me! She played me, used me, and put my son in danger. The cartel could’ve taken him, Elisa. Would you defend her if they’d succeeded?”
“There is no way she played any part in that. Sloane loves Elio. She’d never have allowed anything to happen to him. She loves you too.”
“It was all an act, Elisa. She was doing what she had to do to save her mother.”
“Her mother is dead because she crossed the cartel,” Joshua says.
“We can’t know that for sure, and it seems like her mother was killed before the attempted kidnapping,” Gia says. “Why was Sloane still doing their dirty work?”
“She wasn’t.” Elisa is holding steadfast to her conviction.
“Sloane doesn’t know, honey,” Joshua replies. “The news has only broken, and the cartel wouldn’t have been truthful. They were using her mother as bait right up until the last moment.”
“Sloane chose you and Elio over her own mother, Cristian,” Elisa says. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“All of this is supposition,” I say, clinging to the threads of sanity. Truth is, I don’t know what to think now, and I’m very confused.
“You could have asked her,” Elisa quietly says.
“I was doing everything in my power not to riddle her manipulative ass with bullets!” I shout as my anger returns like a clap of thunder streaking through the skies.
Caleb glares at me, and I draw deep breaths, trying to calm down.
“I’m sorry, Elisa. I know you mean well, but I’m too angry to find forgiveness in my heart. She jeopardized my son’s safety. I can’t get past that. Everything could’ve been avoided if she’d talked to me. I think she planned to, that last morning, but it was already too late. I gave Sloane no reason to doubt I would’ve helped. The truth is, she didn’t trust me with anything, and now we’re all paying the price for her poor decision-making skills.”
“She is as much a victim as her mother, Cristian. She’s probably hating herself for the things she’s done, and she’s all alone now. Don’t you care what happens to her? Because the man I thought you were wouldn’t have tried to kill the woman he loves without getting all the answers.”
Her words try to penetrate the thick wall I’ve renewed around my heart, but those walls are rock solid now. “I only have enough strength to care for my son. This has devastated Elio, and he’s my priority now. He needs my full devotion, and he’s getting it.”
“Then you never truly loved her.” Elisa’s eyes pierce mine with a fierceness that speaks to the core of her personality. “If you did, you’d be tearing the world apart to find her before the cartel does. I hope you can live with yourself with her death on your conscience.”
Elisa’s words are still tormenting me a week later. I’m all cut up. Torn to shreds with all manner of conflicting emotions. Sleep evades me at night, and I’m functioning on fumes. This must be what it was like for Sloane.
Upon reflection, Elisa spoke a lot of truths, but how can I forgive Sloane when the betrayal runs so deep? Maybe she was trying to protect Elio, but she still put him in a position where he was almost kidnapped. Every time I think about it, I break out in a cold sweat. I could have lost my son. The cartel could have their hands on him now. The only thought that terrifies me more is the thought of Sloane out there alone, being hunted by the cartel.
Fuck. I’m a certifiable mess, and I don’t trust myself to make the right decision.
All these thoughts churn through my brain on the helicopter ride to the city, making mincemeat of what’s left of my heart. Joshua, Gia, and Caleb are pensive too. We’ve had several conversations, and it’s safe to say we’re all troubled.
Elisa is taking care of Elio for now, but I’m going to have to start looking for a new nanny soon. Isa is begging me to come back as Elio’s nanny. While it might make the most sense for my son, my trust in her is shaken too. I don’t think she had anything to do with Sloane or the cartel. She was vehemently opposed to me hiring her, and she did everything she could to drive her away. I also don’t believe she’d do anything to hurt Elio. But I’m mistrustful of everyone now, and the truth is, I don’t want her living at Glencoe.
A child psychologist friend of Natalia’s from the hospital came to the house a couple of times to talk with Elio. I’m hoping she can help him through this. I’m also trying to find the right words to explain the world we live in. I’d hoped to avoid this conversation for another few years, but Elio needs to know now.
Fuck the cartel for forcing my hand.
Resting my head against the window as we fly over The Big Apple, I acknowledge that a large part of me still pines for Sloane. I would never say it out loud, but I miss her. Precious memories are tainted now, and I can’t believe every smile, every laugh, and every moan of pleasure was all fake. Is it possible some of it was real? Or am I still clinging to delusions?
Sloane made me look weak in front of everyone, like Aliya did. I’ve always prided myself on being smart, level-headed, and dependable, but these past two weeks, I’ve been an emotional, indecisive mess, and it’s time to pull myself together. Leaving Elio today was hard, but we both need to get back into a more familiar routine. Starting today, I’m pulling my head out of my ass, getting down to business, and putting Sloane behind me.
Dano is waiting for me when we land, and this can’t be anything good. He’d only be here if there were some kind of emergency. “What is it?” I shout over the noise of the helicopter as it takes off after we’ve disembarked.
My underboss ushers me inside the building with my friends at my back. “We found something at the penthouse you need to look at.”
“We’re coming too,” Caleb says. His expression tells me not to bother arguing.
When we reach the penthouse, John Angelo is there, wearing a stern look. Wordlessly, he hands me a tablet, and we crowd around it, watching Vincenzo enter Sloane’s bedroom door a few hours ago. “I cropped the video,” John Angelo explains as it flips forward fifteen minutes to the point where Vincenzo steals out of the room. “By pure chance, I was in the control room earlier when this happened, and I copied the video to my phone. Vincenzo wiped it from the official log, and I didn’t say anything to him, so he’s none the wiser. I filled Umberto in. He’s with Vincenzo in the apartment now. He’ll ensure he doesn’t leave.”
“Well done. That was smart thinking.”
“His reaction to Sloane that last day has been preying on my mind, so I’ve been watching him.”
Remorse fills my mouth. I kept Vincenzo back to rip him a new one for interrupting me when I was questioning Sloane that Monday, and I should have suspected something. Since all this went down, I’m definitely off my game, and I can’t afford any more fuckups.
“What was he doing in her room?” I ask.
“Come see.” Dano leads the way to Sloane’s bedroom. I hesitate for a second before stepping inside. The room smells like her perfume, and acid burns my throat when my gaze lands on the slight stain on the hardwood floor where she bled.
“This was lying on the bed.” Dano points to a cell phone enclosed in a clear ziplock bag.
“It wasn’t there before,” John Angelo adds. “I came into her room after she left it, and there was no phone on the bed.”
“I dusted it for prints and already sent it to the lab,” Dano confirms.
“I’ll make a call and get them to prioritize it.” Gia leaves the room to talk in the hallway.
“Did you try to switch it on?” Joshua asks.
My number two shakes his head before looking at me. “I didn’t want to touch it until I’d talked to you.”
“The lab has moved it to the top of the pile,” Gia says, coming back into the bedroom. “From the initial inspection, it looks like there are several different prints on it.” Donning a pair of plastic gloves, Gia removes the phone from the bag.
Tension is palpable in the air as she switches it on. There is no security, which in itself is strange, and the message inbox loads automatically, displaying three recent unread messages.
“That prick must be working with Carmine and the cartel,” Caleb hisses. “He wanted you to find this.”
“If he’s watched the cameras, he knows I haven’t stepped foot in here since the day Sloane left. He assumes I’ll think she left this here for me to find.” I crack my knuckles, prepping them for the beatdown that’s coming when I get my hands on the rat.
“It’s all video messages,” Gia supplies. “Let’s watch from the top down.”
I brace myself as she presses play on the first video, but nothing could’ve prepared any of us for this. No one speaks as we watch Sloane’s mother being beaten and viciously assaulted by Pablo Fuentes and multiple other men.
“Maybe you should sit this one out, honey.” Joshua implores Gia with his eyes as her finger hovers over the second video.
“I won’t shy away from this.” She presses the button, and the next video plays.
“Oh fuck.” My hand covers my mouth, and pain spears me through the chest as I watch Pablo beat the life out of Sloane’s mother, Robin. Horrified expressions are traded around the room as we watch his men defile her body long after the light is gone from her eyes.
I’ve seen a lot of vile things in my life, but this is pure evil. Thank God, Sloane didn’t see this.
Gia thrusts the phone into Caleb’s hand when Pablo starts fucking the corpse and dashes into the bathroom. Joshua runs after her. Sounds of throwing up filter into the bedroom as the four of us watch Pablo grinning at the camera like the psycho he is.
“I want his head,” Caleb snarls when the video dies.
“He’s mine,” I grit out. Panic sluices through my veins as thoughts I’ve worked so hard to ignore rush to the surface of my mind. This prick cannot get his hands on Sloane. Fear for what he’ll do to her squashes every other thought in my head.
Caleb hits play on the last video.
“DiPietro.” Pablo’s guttural tone rings out around the room. “I hope you enjoyed the show. Your son might have slipped through my clutches for now, but we’ll get him. We’ll get all of them. Cruz will be turning in his grave when he sees what we plan for his offspring. But you.” He puts his face all up in the screen. “You’ll be living a nightmare when I get my hands on your pretty whore. What you witnessed is nothing compared to the plans I have for my little American Barbie. I’m going to cut her, fuck her, break her. Let my men use her. Bring her to the brink of death over and over, but never let her die. If you’re a good boy, I’ll send you some videos. Something to jerk off to on cold, lonely nights.”
A roar tears from my mouth as everything I’ve tried to keep contained breaks free, ripping me apart from the inside as I lose it.
