44. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
Elise
My escape still doesn’t seem real. For the better part of the day, I expected Alexander to storm down the mountain, barge into Wyatt’s home, and drag me back to that hell. But he hasn’t, and my day has been filled with a sense of peace I didn’t know existed.
I never realized how peaceful snow can be when it isn’t being used to prevent an escape.
I flinch when I suddenly feel a panting breath on my hand, followed by a wet nose, forcing my hand on his head.
“Rosco, leave her alone,” Wyatt calls to his dog as he enters the kitchen. He keeps his back to me as he begins making tea.
I give him a soft smile, patting the dog on the head.
“It’s okay,” I say softly.
I’ve never had a dog before. The thought of wanting one never crossed my mind. They don’t usually fit into our world unless they are viciously bred to follow simple commands like “attack” or “eat.”
Wyatt has been nothing short of a gentleman since my arrival. He hasn’t even questioned if anyone is coming to get or looking for me. He seems content to stay out of my business, though I have caught him watching me in pity at times. He’s seen the scarring and bruising beneath my clothes, and I’m sure he has an idea in his mind of how I ended up here.
But at a moment like this, when I am at peace and not in danger of my family finding me or Luca’s enemies, I wonder if returning to him is even required at this point? Would both of our worlds go on if I just stayed hidden forever?
I quietly move to the couch, sitting down, and Rosco follows me, laying his head on my thigh as he takes up the rest of the space. He’s very fond of me for some reason. Maybe it’s a new face, or maybe it’s his instincts that I am just as sad as a wounded animal.
Wyatt appears next to me, placing a cup of tea on the end table. I eye it, distrust flowing through me as I watch him sink into the armchair across from me, blowing on his own mug.
“How did you end up at this place?” I ask, looking back at the snow. The sun has set, so the sky is barely visible. But I can still see the snow that sits just outside the windows.
Wyatt laughs, taking a sip of his tea.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he says before looking around the cabin. “I had this place built a few years ago. I come out here when I want to be alone.”
He shifts his attention to me, deciding to flip the question.
“And you? What were you doing in a car, twenty miles from the nearest house?” he asks. I don’t respond as I gently stroke Rosco’s head. He looks up at me with large puppy dog eyes, taking a deep breath as he groans his approval.
Wyatt takes my silence for what it is, leaning back in his seat.
“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s perfectly fine. But finding you in the state that you were in… feels like something the police should be involved in,” he says.
I laugh at his naivete. It’s as endearing as it is enviable. There was a police investigation into the death of Enzo’s mother because of who my husband is. If I went to the police, not only would Luca find me instantly, but the rest of the underworld would know I am alive and well, and continue to come after me to get to him.
I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
“I’ll leave in a day or two… I just need to clear my head is all,” I say.
Wyatt’s expression shifts to that of pity, and he leans forward, placing his cup on the coffee table.
“I can see that you’ve been through some shit. And I know it isn’t my place to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. But if you’re in some kind of trouble, maybe I can help,” he says.
I slowly look away from Roscoe. Wyatt is watching me with a serious expression.
“How would you do that?” I ask.
“If cops are out of the question, maybe we go to someone higher up, maybe—”
“Like the government?” I ask.
He nods.
I laugh, shaking my head.
“Do you work for them?” I ask.
“I did for a bit. I was put on leave recently after sticking my nose somewhere it didn’t belong,” he says.
I fight the panic settling in my chest. If there’s one thing I trust less than the police, it’s the government, especially since they are the ones who put me in this position in the first place.
“So…you’re a good person then?” I ask.
Now Wyatt laughs. “I try my best. It’s why I joined the bureau.”
I quickly stand, startling him and his dog.
“I need to go,” I say, making my way to the bedroom for the coat.
I hear Wyatt calling after me, but I ignore him as my fear grows. He is quite literally one of the worst people who could have saved me.
“What are you doing? You can’t go out there in this!” he calls to me from the doorway as I pull the fur coat over my shoulders, clumsily gripping the knife in my hands as I aim it at him threateningly.
“You can’t stop me,” I hiss.
He shakes his head, stepping back.
“I’m not trying to. A storm is rolling in. You’ll freeze to death,” he says.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought it would help—I thought you would feel safer knowing I am on the right side of the law—”
“You’re not on the right side. You’re on the worst side. You’re on the side that pretends to serve those who need you when in reality, you are in service to whoever has the biggest wallet,” I snap.
Wyatt looks taken aback.
“I don’t—”
“I was sold, Wyatt. I was sold to the highest bidder because your colleagues are in someone else’s back pocket. They chased me down, dragged me from the street, and put me in an auction all to get at my husband, who is a very powerful man,” I snap. “He controls everything in this country, including you. He could very well be why you were put on leave if you stuck your nose too far into his business.”
Wyatt watches me steadily as understanding crosses his features.
Tears spill over as my frustration mounts, and I don’t hold them back.
“You’re a nice person, I see that. But I can’t believe it—not after everything I’ve been through—everything I’ve seen. No one can help me, least of all you. So please…stop asking me to get help. Just let me pretend that I am free for a second,” I say.
Wyatt releases a deep breath, unable to look me in the eyes.
“I’m sorry…I’ll give you some space,” he says, moving away from the door. To my shock, he closes it behind him. He doesn’t press me on who my husband is or try to drag me back up the mountain after confirming I am someone important.
I slowly sink onto the bed, my eyes remaining on the door as I let my tears silently fall. I slowly lay back on the bed, letting my tears eventually lull me into a deep sleep.
Luca
Alexander’s home has become our base of operations as we scour the mountain for Elise’s whereabouts. After we were able to recover the footage, we found that Elise escaped using the knife I left behind. But Alexander’s words have lingered in my mind. I keep trying to tell myself he was provoking me. But as the last car returns with no sign of Elise, I feel my dread rising.
She can’t survive in this weather. And now that we are in the thick of the mountains, the weather is more hazardous. All I can do is hope that she found refuge.
I step back into Alexander’s office, fighting my rage as I watch Romelo ensure he doesn’t die. He doesn’t deserve death yet. I want to be the one to torture him in the same intimate ways he tortured Elise.
“It’s useless, you know. She is dead—Argh!” Alexander groans in pain as Romelo pushes a blade into a new area of his flesh.
“I can still keep you alive while simultaneously in pain,” he says menacingly.
I turn away from them, looking at the map we’ve been using to look for her.
“When’s the ETA of the chopper?” I ask.
“If the weather is good, we’ll be able to meet in the morning,” Nicolai says.
“Anything from home?” I ask.
“There has been movement. It looks like everyone is trying to strike while the iron’s hot. Arianna’s contacts must have been promised something good,” he says.
I nod.
I don’t have the time or resources to look for Elise any longer. At this point, I am stretching us dangerously thin, especially when people are on the move to end us.
“I’ll join in the search tomorrow. We’ll go to every door if we have to.”