Chapter 33
RENéE
I dragged the heavy bag of clothes into Javier's apartment, the fabric scraping against the floor with every step. Javier, lounging on the couch with a book in hand, glanced up. He set the book down and stood, stretching leisurely before making his way over.
“Let me guess,” he said, taking the bag from my hands effortlessly, “another bag of clothes?”
“They’re essentials, okay?” I retorted, trailing behind him as he carried the bag into the bedroom.
By now, it was safe to say I’d unofficially moved in. I’d been spending so much time here that the lines between my space and his had blurred entirely. My old apartment after all that has happened? Practically abandoned. Pearl was living with her boyfriend, and by the looks of it, they’d probably move in together permanently. So here I was, dragging more of my life into Javier’s—little by little.
“I’m beginning to think I should just extend the closet,” Javier mused, watching me wrestle with the already crowded wardrobe. Half of it was stuffed with my dresses, shoes, and bags, leaving his things awkwardly crammed into a corner.
“Not necessary,” I said, squinting at the shelves. “If I move a few of your things around, mine will fit perfectly.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “Ah, yes, perfect logic. My closet, your rules.”
Ignoring him, I started shifting his neatly arranged jackets to one side. Behind me, Javier settled back onto the bed, propped up with his book in hand. The moment he cracked it open, I might as well have been invisible. His focus was laser-sharp, and frankly, it annoyed me more than it should. Was it weird to feel jealous of a book? Because I was.
As I worked, my fingers brushed against something tucked away in the back corner of the closet. A cardboard box peeked out, looking oddly out of place among Javier’s belongings. Curiosity prickled at me.
“What’s this?” I murmured, mostly to myself, as I opened the box. Javier didn’t so much as glance up from his book.
I opened it carefully, revealing a stack of letters. My brow furrowed as I scanned the sender's name. Hugo Alvaro.
The postmarks all came from the same location: Riverbend Maximum Security Institution. My pulse quickened as I thumbed through them. The latest letter had arrived just a week ago.
And beneath all of that was a photograph—a family picture, old and slightly faded. I froze, my breath catching as I studied it. His mother was unmistakable, her gentle features softened by time. Javier was just a kid, no older than six or seven, his mischievous grin showing even then. His sister was a baby, barely sitting up, her chubby cheeks identical to his. And then there was the father.
Or, at least, part of him.
The picture was torn, the face of his father missing entirely as if someone had deliberately erased him. My stomach twisted. The letters, the torn photo… None of it lined up with the smooth, polished version of events Javier had given me about his family. Something was off.
Before I could dive any deeper into the implications, I heard his voice.
“Yes, confirm the ticket for tomorrow morning,” Javier said the sound of his footsteps drawing closer.
I shoved everything back where it belonged, sliding the photo and letters into their hidden spot before turning back to the mess of clothes in the closet. My hands worked quickly, shoving and folding, pretending to be wholly absorbed.
He stepped behind me. His arms slid around my waist, pulling me back into him, and he pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he murmured into the phone before hanging up.
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, twisting around to face him.
His lips curved into a small, easy smile. “DC tomorrow,” he said with a shrug.
“So suddenly? Why?” My brow furrowed.
“Work stuff,” he replied vaguely, brushing it off with another shrug. His hands slid up to cradle my face, his thumb stroking my cheek as he tilted his head slightly. “How about lunch? Feel like getting out for a bit?”
“I’d like that,” I said quietly, letting him pull me closer.
For now, I could tuck the questions away. I’ll let him come to me with the answers.
“I’ll see you in two days,” Javier said, leaning in to kiss me. It was soft but firm, like always, and when he pulled back, his eyes lingered for a second longer. “Be safe.”
I smiled, leaning on the doorframe. “Promise.”
And then he was gone, bag slung over his shoulder as he headed down the hallway. I watched him until the elevator doors closed behind him, sealing me in with an unsettling silence. Two days. How was I supposed to kill two whole days without him? It’s been forever since he left me alone this long.
I closed the door and let out a groan. He’d barely been gone ten minutes, and already the apartment felt too quiet, too empty.
“Ugh, this sucks,” I muttered, tossing myself onto the couch.
I grabbed one of Javier’s books from the coffee table—a thick one because of course, it was. I tried to read it, but the words blurred into gibberish, and after re-reading the first page three times, I gave up. How does he sit there for hours and actually enjoy this?
Okay, reading was out. Cooking? Nah, the last time I tried that, it ended with a smoke alarm and Javier laughing while we ate takeout on the floor. I wasn’t ready for that kind of humiliation again.
I wandered around the apartment aimlessly, finally ending up in Javier’s closet. His side was so perfectly organized it was almost annoying. I ran my fingers over his jackets, breathing in the faint mix of cedar and citrus that always clung to him.
Grinning to myself, I pulled one of his hoodies off the hanger and tugged it on. It was ridiculously oversized on me, but it smelled like him, and for a second, it felt like he wasn’t so far away.
Still restless, I found myself in his office. Everything in there screamed Javier —awards lined up on shelves, degrees framed perfectly, and a collection of photos that I’d seen a dozen times before. Even so, I wandered through, letting my fingers trail over the edges of the frames.
His computer was still on, the screen glowing softly. Maybe I could play one of those games he’s always talking about . I sank into his chair, wiggling the mouse to wake the screen.
His email inbox popped up. My first instinct was to log out, but something caught my eye: a flight confirmation.
Curious, I clicked on it.
My stomach dropped. Nashville.
I stared at the ticket, my heart pounding. Nashville? He said he was going to DC. Why the hell would he lie?
My hands tightened on the edge of the desk as I tried to make sense of it. This wasn’t work— it couldn’t be . If it were just work, why wouldn’t he tell me the truth?
I leaned back in the chair, a wave of betrayal washing over me, sharp and unrelenting. Whatever this was, I didn’t like it.
Then it hit me—Riverbend Maximum Security Institution. Wasn’t that in Nashville? My pulse quickened as the pieces started to fall into place. Was Javier going there? To see this Hugo Alvaro? The guy who’d been writing him all these years?
But why the hell would he lie about it?
Hugo Alvaro. The name churned in my brain like a bad omen. Who was this guy? Why was he writing to Javier?
I couldn’t stop myself. My fingers flew over the keyboard as I typed his name into the search bar. My heart pounded, the kind of rhythm that made it hard to breathe. The page loaded slower than it ever had before—each second dragging like it knew I was about to uncover something I didn’t want to see.
And then it was there, staring back at me.
Hugo Alvaro.
The description felt like a punch to the gut. Convicted for the murder of his wife in cold blood. Currently serving a life sentence in Riverbend Maximum Security Institution.
My hand trembled over the mouse, but I couldn’t stop now. I scrolled down, searching for more, for a picture, for something that would make this make sense.
When the photo finally loaded, my breath caught in my throat.
Hugo Alvaro.
Javier.
They looked exactly alike.
My stomach dropped, and an icy chill ran through me. My thoughts spiraled out of control as I stared at the screen. The same sharp jawline, the same intense eyes, even the way their mouths turned at the corners—it was like looking at an older version of Javier.
I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know how to think.
My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I almost missed the horrifying details as I continued to read.
20th November, 2010.
Tragic Murder of Leona Densmore Alvaro: A Chilling Case of Betrayal and Violence
The harrowing story of Leona Alvaro’s murder remains etched in the annals of crime history as a chilling tale of betrayal and violence.
On November 20, 2010, Leona Alvaro was brutally murdered in her home, suffering 21 stab wounds inflicted by her husband, Hugo Alvaro. The horrific crime was carried out while their two children were present, a detail that underscored the tragedy of the event.
Following the murder, Hugo buried Leona’s body in their backyard and fabricated a story that she had run away. For three agonizing years, her disappearance was shrouded in mystery, with friends and neighbors unaware of the grim truth.
The case took a shocking turn when Hugo was found unconscious in his home after a failed suicide attempt. It was then that his son, Javier Alvaro, bravely stepped forward and revealed the truth to the authorities.
Leona’s body was subsequently exhumed, and Hugo Alvaro was arrested. The ensuing trial captured national attention, with testimony from his children painting a devastating picture of the family’s hidden torment. Ultimately, Hugo was convicted of first-degree murder, bringing a semblance of justice to Leona’s memory.
This tragic case serves as a stark reminder of the hidden battles some families face and the devastating impact of domestic violence.
My hands shook, the tremor spreading through my entire body as I stared at the screen. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what he and Leila must have gone through. The abuse. The mental scars. The unrelenting trauma. And the fact that his own father had murdered his mother—so brutally, so callously.
The trial, the revelations, the crushing weight of that reality. How did Javier survive any of it? And worse, how did he survive it alone?
Tears welled up in my eyes before spilling over. Silent sobs racked my chest as I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth. My heart ached for him in a way that words could never express. Javier had endured so much, carried so much, and yet here I was, suspecting him, doubting him, accusing him of lying.
No wonder he told me his father was dead. No wonder he didn’t tell me he was going to Nashville. But that realization didn’t make it hurt any less. All this time, I still hadn’t become the person he felt safe enough to share this with. I thought I was closer to him than anyone else, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Before I could sink any further into that painful thought, my phone rang, the sharp sound startling me. I fumbled to pick it up, barely managing to check the caller ID. Hael.
I swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Dotje,” his voice slurred. He sounded drunk. Hael hardly ever drank, which made my stomach twist with worry.
“Brother?” I asked cautiously.
“Het was mijn schuld, allemaal mijn schuld,” he said, his words breaking under the weight of his grief. I froze, the familiar ache returning full force. He was having one of his episodes, the kind that hit without warning, consuming him completely.
If I didn’t get to him in time, I didn’t know what would happen. I couldn’t let him fall into the abyss again. Not tonight. Not ever.