Falling with Grace

19. Elias

19

Elias

" W e'll take the brown napkins." I stared at the overwhelming array of napkin samples as the clock on the wall ticked.

Who needs this many options?

"Stop." Nadia's hand settled on my forearm, her touch light but insistent. "Brown?" Her voice was an irritated whisper. "That won't go with our color scheme."

Is that the time?

I glanced down at my watch, double-checking as I shirked her touch.

Brochures, catalogs, and portfolios littered the table next to us, and beside that were sixteen half-eaten cake samples lined up, each with a card below detailing the flavors, fillings, and frostings.

An eternity passed in the hours we'd spent on the wedding charade, the event coordinator proving just as useless as those napkins.

My arms sat crossed over my chest, my molars tight against one another as Nadia determined each option, color scheme, and flavor.

What is the purpose of my presence?

My foot tapped on the floor as I pulled out my phone. "I like brown."

Nadia narrowed her gaze, and raised her shaped brow. "Since when?"

Since the key to solving all of my problems walked into my life.

Grace fell into my lap like a gift from God—a mute gift, but a gift all the same.

If I could get her to open up to me, she'd spill everything she'd learned while in his compound, including the location, his comings and goings, and acquaintances.

I glanced down at the camera feed on my phone's screen.

Where is she?

I should be with her, gaining her trust, hoping she'd spill every intricate detail about his life, but instead, I was stuck doing the wedding planner's job and wasting precious time.

"Nadia…"

Her shoulders tensed as she glanced at the rail-thin woman sitting across from us, her face wrinkled with age. "He's just kidding about the brown." She reached across the table, grabbed the napkin samples, and splayed them out. "Here." She pointed. "I like this shade of red."

What was Grace doing now?

My gaze shifted towards the woman Ma envisioned as my future spouse. The woman I had selected to carry on my lineage, to build a family with, to continue my legacy as my papa did before me.

She was beautiful with her flowing black locks, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a pert nose—a true steal, a remarkable catch.

So why was I thinking about another woman instead of enjoying this moment?

Reaching over, I clasped her hand, squeezing it. "Let's take a break." I let go of her hand before rising from my seat and tucking my phone into my jacket inside pocket. "We can resume this discussion another time."

Her bottom lip puckered as though she were an adolescent. "But we haven't selected the tablecloths yet."

"I'm confident Juana can handle those details, don't you think?" I surveyed the room and then focused on the wedding planner, who sat upright in her chair.

"He's right. You should get some rest. Don't stress over tablecloths." She glanced up with imploring, glassy eyes and gave me the slightest nod of agreement.

Nadia huffed and stood, pointing her finger at the old woman as she slipped her purse chain over her shoulder. "I'll make the final decisions."

"Of course. Of course," Juana nodded. "I'll give you a call once I've put it all together."

I nodded, a flicker of triumph coursing through me as I touched Nadia's back, guiding her out of the building—all too eager to leave this world of lace and napkins behind.

Outside, Nadia spun around, cutting off my exit with her long frame. "Do you have something else to do?"

I raised a brow. "I always have something to do."

"But, like, something more important than this?"

I gave her a lazy smile. "More important than color-coordinating dresses, picking dinner options, and venues? Yes... always." Placing my hands on her shoulders, I spun her towards the waiting SUVs and urged her inside. Sliding beside her, my bodyguard shut the back door, and we drove away.

"That's hurtful, Elias." Her shoulders fell as she looked out at the passing city. "It's our wedding. I thought you'd want to be involved."

I grunted as I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket once more and flipped through the camera feeds.

Where is she?

"Can you believe the audacity of the florist to suggest those roses? I mean, honestly, who does she think we are?"

Inhaling, I closed my eyes, exhaled, and opened them as a text buzzed.

Javier

There's something we need to discuss.

What now?

The Mercedes convoy cut through the evening traffic with practiced ease, the low hum of the engine providing a steady backdrop to Nadia's incessant chatter.

"I liked those roses."

"But they were small. I want a large bouquet with wide, white roses, not like the ones your Mamá—"

"Nadia?" I pinched the bridge of my nose as I exhaled.

She turned in her seat, her ankles crossed and tucked, exuding an air of a princess with impeccable etiquette. "Yes?"

"Be quiet, would you?"

"Is everything okay?" She reached over and caressed my thigh. "Do you have a headache?"

I pocketed my phone and adjusted my suit jacket as I clenched my teeth.

"It would make sense. You've been so tense since Grace came around."

I gripped her hand, preventing her from moving closer to my flaccid cock. "Have I?"

The vehicle pulled up to the entrance and paused, waiting for the heavy, thick metal gate to swing wide.

"Yes." She nodded, her nails digging in. "She's strange. And secretive. You have so many enemies. How do you know she's not one of them?"

The vehicle moved forward and parked at the front door.

I placed her hand back into her lap. "You worry too much about matters that aren't your concern." Our doors opened wide. "Why don't you focus on things that are truly important?"

Nadia plucked at her clothing, her lips downturned and tight, as we exited the SUV.

The evening air surrounded me, a blend of trimmed hedges and a distant hint of chlorine. Nadia's heels clicked on the cement as Javier approached, shoulders straight, eyes wide.

Did Grace open up to him?

"We need to talk." Javier cast a look over my shoulder, eyeing the footsteps drawing near. "In private..."

I gave a subtle nod. "I'll meet you in my study." Javier strolled off, leaving me to face Nadia. "Why don't you see how Mamá is doing while I speak with Javier?"

"Okay. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine."

Ushering her forward, I guided her through the lavish foyer as we trailed behind Javier. I entered my study, an opulent space where the air hung heavy with unspoken tension, and Nadia continued down the hall.

The mosaic door sealed shut, enveloping us in a cocoon of hushed stillness. I poured a generous glass of spirits, the amber liquid glinting in the subdued light of the room, and took a much-needed gulp.

"We may not need Grace after all."

I swallowed the fiery liquid, pivoted to meet his gaze, and settled into the embrace of the sumptuous leather chair. "And how's that?"

"Dr. Navarro recognized her..." Javier unleashed a torrent of details about Navarro's initial run-in with Grace and her elaborate tale about him. "I bet we can leverage that couple to get to his crew. Once we have them, we've got a direct line to him."

I raised the glass to my lips and halted. "Because that strategy has proven so successful in the past?"

"This time could be different. She claimed Andrés' men targeted her. Get closer to her, and maybe she'll share some intel. Knowing their identities might just set the stage for a well-executed ambush."

"There's a heap of 'maybes' tangled up in that scenario. "

Javier shrugged and settled into the chair opposite me, crossing his legs and propping his ankle on his knee. His Santa Muerte tattoo danced on his forearm as he got comfortable. "Otherwise, you leave it to me to break her."

Not going to happen.

He sighed. "Do you honestly believe cozying up to her will work?"

"It's better than what we were doing."

"If you'd just allow me a day with her—"

I lifted my hand, halting him mid-sentence. "No."

"So then, what's our next step?"

I leaned back, my brows tightening in a frown.

Grace carried the heavy marks of a lifetime marred by torment, her spirit worn down to a fragile thread. Trust had become an elusive luxury, shattered by the relentless onslaught of Andrés' cruelty.

She anticipated danger around every corner and braced for it all.

She doesn't fear death.

Allowing Javier to take a shot at her could prove detrimental.

She has nothing left to lose.

Moreover, her lack of trust mirrored my own, and taking that path meant there was no turning back. We would be committed until she yielded the answers—which was unlikely—or until she died an excruciating death, which left a bitter taste in my mouth.

With a silent nod, I set my drink on the table. "Alright. Let's dig into this. I'll handle Grace. Perhaps she'll be more open to discussing them."

"I'll get right on it." His knee bobbed up and down. "I think this could be it. We might just have a solid in."

"What did Dr. Navarro say about her injuries?"

Javier shrugged. "He gave her the all-clear. Just a mild concussion and a healing broken rib. Nothing more."

Broken rib?

That would explain the discoloration on her side.

A disquieting sensation settled within me, an unfamiliar twinge of concern that I couldn't quite shake. "And where is she now?"

Javier jerked his chin towards the door. "In her room. That's where she's been all day."

"Has anyone checked on her?"

"No." He shook his head. " Eduardo and Antonio haven't moved from her door, though."

I stood, my shoulders heavy with exhaustion. "Next time, you can join Nadia for fabric shopping."

"Pass."

I patted him on the arm as I walked by. "I'll talk to Grace. You assemble a team for the couple."

"In silence?"

"Let's not make waves until we're ready."

Exiting my office, I climbed the stairs, each step resonating in the grand foyer—the air charged with vibrant energy as I approached.

Eduardo's posture shifted, a swift adjustment from his slouched position over his phone. The once-present smile vanished from his lips as I approached, replaced by an air of seriousness. He bugged Antonio's side, whose heavy-lidded eyes fought the pull of exhaustion.

"Such an easy task, yet you sleep like you've worked in the fields."

Antonio snapped to attention with a snort, his hand swiping across his drool-glistened lips. " Lo siento , jefe ."

My jaw ticked. "Do you require some time off?" I tucked my hands into my pockets, a smirk forming as Eduardo shook his head in Antonio's direction.

Antonio glanced at Eduardo with wide eyes, then turned to me, a sheen of sweat across his brow. "No... no, Jefe . It won't happen again."

" Hmm ." I nodded. "Make sure it doesn't."

I breached Grace's door and stepped through the threshold.

A cool breeze slithered through the opened window. The curtains billowed, dancing to the rhythm of the unseen force. She'd stacked her cream pillows on her bed, the down comforter matching the decor.

I cast a glance around the room, performing a half-spin.

Where is she?

My shoes scuffed against the floor as I strolled toward the window and came to a halt, my eyes catching a white-framed Polaroid on the bedside table.

The black and white photograph, capturing two once-innocent boys standing side by side, set my rigid muscles twitching. A wave of heat surged through me, my chest tight, my pulse thumping in my neck.

Where did she get this?

I picked up the damning photograph, crushing it in my fist before tucking it into my pocket, and then stormed towards the window. Popping my head out, I glanced down at the ground.

The decorative stones lay undisturbed, showing no signs of someone dropping two stories onto them—no evidence of an impact or a life lost.

This was a mistake.

I shouldn't have allowed her to leave the shed. Maybe I should have let Javier have his moment with her.

Where is she?

I glanced around the room with a focused glare.

Vase.

Dresser…

I hurried to the dresser and yanked open the drawers. Her underwear lay folded as if they had been placed there mere moments ago.

Closet.

I marched to the closet, swung open the door to the dark room, and then flicked on the light before stepping inside. Swiping the clothes to the side, the metal hangers scraped with a metallic shrill as they moved.

She escaped somehow.

Exiting the closet, I strode toward the bedroom door.

She won't get far.

A liquefied drop of red clashed against the marbled floor beside the door, causing me to freeze mid-reach for the handle.

Blood?

I scanned the floor.

Another drop followed by yet another.

How did I not see this?

"Grace?"

Quick exhales dried my lips, and my pulse raced in my throat as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

I flicked my tongue across my lips and followed the trail of blood. "Are you in here?"

A hushed moan drifted like a whisper from the bed, causing my heart to thunder .

Dropping to my knees, my hand braced against the mattress, I flipped the comforter up and peered beneath.

There on the opposite side of the bed, lying on her side in the fetal position, was Grace, her hands clamped tight around her belly.

Did my men do this?

Did she have a wound from before that she hid well?

Did it open up?

"Grace?"

Her perfect green eyes, rimmed with angry red veins, flicked to mine.

I rushed to the other side of the bed, falling to my knees beside her. "What happened?" My hands hovered above her, her brows pulled tight. "Did someone do this to you?"

Was she crying?

I'll kill anyone who did this.

"Leave me." Her breathy whisper shattered as she tucked back into herself and whimpered, blood pooling beneath her.

My fingers grazed her shoulder, her hair falling over her face in a chestnut brown curtain.

" Please." She flinched beneath my touch. "Just leave me be."

What if she tried committing suicide, and I caught her on the tail end?

I could lose…

Grabbing her arms, I uncurled her body, allowing a full view of her arms and torso.

Grace screamed, tears blazing down her cheeks and pooling beside the bridge of her button nose.

Blood smeared across the floor beneath her, soaking her lower half and the ends of her t-shirt.

My stomach churned.

She couldn't leave me. Not when I was so close to getting him.

"Let me look at you."

"It's not what you thi—"

I grabbed her shirt and pulled it up.

Creamy white skin marred by streaks of red rose to firm breasts in a white lace bra.

Nothing.

"I think… "

Her face blanched, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her body jerked, her arms hanging limp at her sides.

"Grace?" I pressed my finger to her throat, checking her pulse. My breath caught in my chest as I waited for her lungs to fill.

Ba-bump, ba-bump.

I exhaled, letting out a relieved breath. "Grace?" I tapped her cheek with my palm, yearning for those emerald eyes to flutter open. "Come on, Grace. Don't do this."

What the hell is going on?

Her chest rose as she snorted in a heavy breath through her nose. She opened her eyes and narrowed them, her brows colliding.

"Elias?" She winced, her arms moving over her belly as she contracted into a ball—the pieces falling into place like a jigsaw. "I um…"

She groaned, a sheen of sweat appearing across her pale skin.

Fuck.

"Hang on."

I unbuttoned my suit jacket, shucked it off my shoulders, and draped it over her lower half. Tucking my arms beneath her legs and back, I hoisted her small frame against me and stood.

"What..." Her eyes widened as I adjusted her against my chest. "What are you doing?" Her brows hiked, her lips trembling as she glanced at my mottled white shirt. "You're going to—"

"You think it's the first time I've had blood on my clothes?" I kicked the bottom half of the door. "Eduardo, open the door."

It swung open on cue, allowing me to pass through.

Grace nestled her pained face into my arm as though hiding from anyone who could witness her embarrassment. Moving down the hall and into the bathroom, I slammed the door behind me and placed her into the tub.

Blood smeared my shirt sleeve and abdomen, the sharp contrast blaring in the artificial light.

"Oh my God."

I suppressed a laugh, a small smile tugging at my lips. "It's fine. I have hundreds of these."

Stripping, I dropped my shirt onto the floor, then pulled my suit jacket from her legs and started the water, her tear-logged eyes boring a hole into my chest .

Why did she look more broken and vulnerable than when I nearly drowned her in a barrel of water?

"Come on." I motioned towards her. "Take off your pants."

Grace shook her head, her chest heaving, her lips pressed tight as I fiddled with her button. "I don't want you… to see me—"

A prolonged moan resonated over the pouring water as she curled into a ball, my fingers trapped between her soft skin and waistband. Her breaths turned labored and rapid.

"You're not going to pass out again, are you?"

"I hope not." She shook her head with a deep inhale. "I've never done that before."

"Are your periods normally this bad?"

The water beneath her tinged in pink and swirled down the drain as I maneuvered around her button, undoing the metal clasp.

"I haven't had a period since he implanted the birth control." Her chin trembled as her eyes glazed over. "We were supposed to have our birth control replaced the day before we escaped." She pointed to a small cut on her arm. "But something came up."

"So it's worn off?"

She shrugged. "It's the only thing I can think of."

"You're not pregnant?"

A wave of sickness hit my solar plexus.

"He tested us often. There's no chance."

I stood with a weight off my chest and cracked the door. "Antonio. Make yourself useful and bring me painkillers…" I paused as Nadia's face peered between my men. "And get Valeria to clean up."

"What's going on in here?" Nadia stepped between Edwardo and Antonio.

"Leave, Nadia."

"Is she okay? Why is your shirt off?"

I flicked my gaze to Eduardo and tipped my head. He sprang into action, positioning his arm in front of Nadia and guiding her away from the door. "Seriously, Elias?" I closed the door in her face.

"Can you stand?"

"I… I think so."

I steadied myself against the edge of the tub, then stooped down and assisted her to her feet.

Grace moaned, chewing on her bottom lip as she leaned against the shower wall. "I'm sorry."

"Hold on to the bar while I take these off." She wrapped her small hand around the soap shelf's edge as I tugged her soaked jeans and underwear down her slender thighs. "And what for?"

"I couldn't make it to the bathroom." She lifted her foot and pulled it out of the pant leg.

"Seeing as how you passed out in my arms, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." I tapped her other leg. "Next."

"You don't have to do this." She shifted, then raised the other as I pulled, her hand never leaving her soft belly.

"Do you want my men to do it?" My upper lip curled.

Her brows lifted, her eyes widening like saucers as she shook her head. "No. I mean, isn't there a female staff or even someone—"

"Nadia? You want her to come in and help you?" I pulled away from her and reached for the door.

"No." She hung her head, her hair falling into her face.

A fresh trail of blood ran down her legs, mingling with the water droplets dotting her skin.

"Then I'm your only option." I flicked the showerhead on.

Water soaked the strands on her face, clinging to her cheeks as her vibrant green eyes scrutinized me, her delicate throat bobbing with a swallow.

A sharp pang in my chest surged to life, stealing my focus. The world around me blurred. The rhythmic drumming of water against the ceramic tub transformed into a distant, muted hum.

How hadn't I seen it before?

Stunning.

Grace doubled over, tearing her gaze from mine.

Grabbing her, I stepped into the tub, stopping her from crashing to the tub floor. The water saturated my pants, causing them to adhere to my legs, and my shoes filled with water. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Holding her steady, I held her against me as she squirted body wash into her palm, then ran her hands down her legs and between. "This is so embarrassing."

Grace dropped her gaze to the floor as she sniffled. Tears streaked her cheeks in shining trails that curled under her chin, her shoulders shuddering in my hold.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Easy for you to say."

She groaned as she worked to clean her body, my hands keeping her steady and offering what little comfort I could.

"I think I'm done now."

She stood straight up, and I moved the hair from her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She was too beautiful to cry.

So innocent, yet tainted by this cruel world.

How would her life have been if Andrés hadn't gotten his hands on her?

She'd be in her second year of college, maybe choosing the family route instead of a career. Either way, he ripped her future from her as though it were a piece of paper with an ugly drawing and left her with this… a broken shell of a woman who cared for those more than her survival.

A gentle knock interrupted my thoughts. " Jefe."

"Can you stand on your own?"

She swallowed and nodded, her blanched knuckles holding onto the soap cutout. "I think so, yes."

I stepped out of the tub, kicked off my soaked shoes as I wrapped a towel around my waist, and then cracked the door.

Antonio tipped his hand, dropping two white pills into mine, then handed me a glass of water, which I handed to Grace.

She knocked them back as Antonio pushed through the narrow gap in the door with a bundle of clothing and a handful of pads and tampons. "Nadia thought these might help."

Nadia did this?

I placed the offerings on the counter and shut the door with a curt nod.

Maybe she wasn't as shallow as I thought.

Turning back to Grace, I took the glass from her outstretched hand.

"Can… I mean, I know you've seen me already, but… can you turn around, please?"

I sighed. "Do you think you can do it on your own now?"

She hesitated but then nodded. "The warm water helped a little. Thank you."

"Alright, I'll leave you to it. My men will be right outside. Let them know if you need something."

I picked up my ruined loafers and stepped outside of the steamy bathroom.

Nadia stood at the end of the hall, a scowl etched into her face, her arms crossed over her chest.