Chapter 17 #2
“I knew all of that about your family already. My brother dug deeper into your family’s background after you made the offer the first time.
For now, I’d prefer we not use those connections until I can learn whether they have any ties to Salvatore Mancinelli.
The Mancinellis may be Cosa Nostra, but they’ll still pick an Italian organized crime family over mine.
I need to be sure involving your connections doesn’t wind up playing into Salvatore’s hand and giving him more information than he needs, whether he’s connected to this or not.
I’d rather the four of you go to my mother’s friend and stay with her and her husband until my family can sort out a better solution. ”
When the woman arrived, I was unprepared for a Moroccan. Jorge’s mother met Noor Idrissi while going to college in California. There was something familiar about her, but I still haven’t put my finger on it.
“Jorge, I don’t want to endanger anybody else. Isn’t there somewhere else we can go that doesn’t draw more people into this?”
“Noor is married to Hisham Azizi.”
I take a step back, unprepared for Jorge to name one of the wealthiest financiers in Frankfurt who’s known for ties to Moroccan organized crime.
There’re always whispers he’s some type of crime lord disguised by his refined custom-tailored suits.
I’ve met him a couple of times, and I’ve always been slightly awed by his entire aura.
He’s not flashy.
He’s not menacing.
He’s just there. He fills whatever room he’s in with charisma.
It’s no surprise so many people accept his investments or want to work with him. There’s a sophisticated nuance to him. The kind where I’d trust him with my millions, but I’m not sure if I’d trust him to buy me a drink or trust him not to put a bullet through someone’s heart.
“Will you go there with us, Jorge?”
“No. I’ll see you settled there, but it’s best if I remain here.
That way I can visit if I need to, but I can also meet with my brothers or cousins when they arrive.
I can’t be seen coming and going from their home too frequently.
My mother and Noor have been photographed together many times over the years at various events.
I’m certain plenty of international law enforcement agencies have photos on file of Noor and Hisham vacationing with us, but that doesn’t mean I need to raise any red flags that will draw attention to you.
They can get you into their house discreetly. ”
I hate the idea of him leaving me. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth as I consider the approaching evening.
The sun won’t set for a few more hours, but just the thought of the unknown out there in the dark and being out of Jorge’s reach terrifies me.
I feel heat rising along my neck as bile burns the back of my throat and makes my gums sting.
It suddenly feels far too hot in here. When I swipe my hand across my forehead, I feel the sweat.
Invisible weights press on me from every direction, and the air is becoming too thick for me to breathe. No matter how deeply I try to inhale, there doesn’t seem to be enough air to fill my lungs. I’m growing lightheaded and reach out to hold the dining room table to brace myself.
Jorge’s arm slides around my waist. “Chica.”
I don’t know if he’s whispering or speaking at a regular volume, but his voice sounds distant and soft even though he’s right beside me.
I offer a shaky nod, but panic wells in my chest, spreading out behind my ribs, creating a burn that makes me want to rub my fist over my sternum.
My ears are ringing. My vision’s tunneling to a narrow focus right before my eyes.
“Chica.”
I turn a blank stare toward Jorge, once more shaking my head.
I feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I no longer feel like I’m controlling what’s happening.
My breathing’s labored and uncomfortable.
He guides me to the sofa, and my mom and sister sit on each side of me while he perches on the end of the coffee table.
He takes both of my hands in his, rubbing the outside of them and squeezing them rhythmically.
“Liesel, look at me. Liesel.”
“I hear you. Jorge, please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His thighs bracket mine, and I lean as far forward as I can to rest my forehead against his shoulder.
“I won’t go anywhere without you knowing where it is.”
“No, not good enough.” I struggle with each word.
“I have no plans or moves to make until my family gets here.”
“No, don’t leave me. I—need—you.” I stumble over those three words as I sob.
My mom rubs her hand up and down my back. “Maybe Anne should just stay here.”
Friedrich’s been quiet and unobtrusive since he arrived, but he speaks up.
“If being away from Jorge’s going to give her a panic attack, I can take Heidi and Gretel to your friend’s house.
You can stay here with Anne. If anything changes, then you can bring her to us, or I can come back and get her. ”
Friedrich’s offer registers with me, but I have to turn it over in my head a couple times before I understand what he’s offering. He’s been the rock I expected Bastian to be. Instead, that piece of shit turned out to be a pebble in my shoe.
Jorge grips my shoulders and eases me back before cupping my face, holding it in place, so our gazes meet. “Liesel, do you want to stay here with me while they go to Noor’s house?”
I nod.
I feel incredibly selfish, but as hard as this has been for my mom and Heidi, it’s still all new to them. I’ve been carrying the weight of all of these hidden manipulations for years now, and the incessant danger is pushing me beyond my breaking point. The only thing holding me together is Jorge.
“Jorge, can I really stay here with you?”