Chapter 21 - Selene
Chapter twenty-one
Selene
My head spins as I pace the length of my room, holding the object in my hands. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw it, yet I still have no solid answer. Or maybe I do, and I’m just scared to admit it.
But it can’t be. I saw them shoot him twice in the stomach just before I fled. He couldn’t have put this there.
My hand trails the edge of the card I’d taken from the ship.
It was wedged behind the family crest symbol mounted on the outer wall of the ship.
Something had immediately pulled me toward the crest, and I found it.
I took it just before Cortez found me. It’s an ace of spades card, brittle and torn at the center with dried blood smeared on the top left corner, just exactly how we used to do it when we were young.
I shut my eyes momentarily, flashing back to how it all started. I was sixteen. Dad had just lashed out at Mom, beating her. Then he turned to me, eyes angry and unforgiving. He’d caught me sneaking out.
I winced as he sentenced me to intense labor. But it wasn’t the usual one. This time, the punishment came with a deadline. I had to clean the whole mansion, the field, and do laundry in one day. No help, no food…no water. And I didn’t dare object.
With tears in my eyes, I immediately got to work. I knew if I didn’t finish in time, then Mom would bear the brunt of it. But the task was impossible. I couldn’t clean even half of it in a day.
As I raked the leaves in the field, malicious thoughts began to circle my mind. It wasn’t the first time I had such thoughts, but that day they were stronger.
I wanted to kill Dad. After all, if I did so, everyone would be free.
My brother wouldn’t spend most of his days on the training ground or locked up in the basement, depending on how Dad felt about his performance.
Mom would finally get to live the beautiful life she deserved.
And me…I would be able to live freely, do what I wanted.
And at least enjoy the mafia life a little.
But I couldn’t. He was powerful. I wouldn’t survive the aftermath.
I had myself to blame. Despite knowing that my mother would receive consequences for my misconduct, I still continued.
My heart clenches, and the familiar feeling of guilt washes over me. Maybe if I’d known better, she’d still be here.
Later that evening, I was still in the field, exhausted and on the brink of unconsciousness, when Luca came. He told me he snuck out to see me. Dad had left him to train alone.
Luca brought water and food. But he also brought an ace of spades, punctured in the middle.
“If you’re in trouble, fold it into a dart and place it in any of Dad’s properties—ships, the mansion—behind the family crest. I’ll find it and I’ll be there.”
Then he proceeds to take out a pin from his pocket, nicking his thumb. He presses his blood-stained thumb on the top left corner of the card.
“But if things get ugly, and you’re far too gone in it, stain the card like so, and I know to find you ASAP.”
Dad played cards all the time. It wasn’t far-fetched that Luca used one of his most unsuspecting tools to generate a secret code for us.
Fluttering my eyes rapidly, I try to blink the tears away. No other soul knew about our shenanigans. It was just us. A twin thing.
A string in my heart strains. Does that mean Luca is still alive? Did he put the ace of spades there? If he did, it means he needs help as soon as possible.
But it also means things have gotten ugly for him…and he’s far too gone.
My heart skips a beat, the cells in my body growing weak at the thought that circles my mind. Could he be the one somehow messing with Cortez?
Shit.
It can’t be, though. He has no reason to.
But what if it is…
No. Luca would never.
Still, someone is crossing Cortez, and it has everything to do with Dad’s pipeline. He’s the only person who knows the workings of the pipelines. Perhaps someone else from Dad’s inner circle is alive? The questions teem nonstop. So does my headache. And I want both to stop.
“Oh…Damn!” I grunt, almost yanking my hair out of my scalp. I hate not knowing.
My breathing comes out in shallow pants, and as I clasp the card tighter, I realize that if Luca is truly alive and needs help, I must act fast.
First, I need to understand what is going on with Cortez’s mafia. Acting on this, I head towards the door and yank it open, but my resolve is halted when I see a new set of guards.
They stop me right in my tracks, their chests puffing like angry birds. I glance between them, irritation climbing my chest at the fact that the guards have yet again been changed. They’re both tall with dark hair and brown eyes, but one has extremely thin lips.
“We can’t let you out, ma’am,” one of them grunts heavily. I’m sure that outside of these walls, girls instantly spread their legs for him just because of his deep baritone.
“I’m going to see your boss.” I purse my lips.
They exchange a tentative glance and go silent for a minute. Then the other one shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we ca—” the one with thin lips starts, but I quickly cut him off.
“I said I’m going to see your boss,” I scoff. “If you don’t believe me, you can take me there yourself. He wants to see me, too, and we all know that his patience is as thin as your lips.”
His brows scrunch together, and for a fleeting moment, I think he’ll shove me back into the room. But they both part, allowing me through.
I can feel their breath on top of my head as we walk. Literally no breathing space. Ugh. So much for my loyalty speech.
We get to Cortez’s office door, and I burst it open, sashaying with every intention to say how I feel.
“You don’t need to change my guards every day like you’re changing a—”
A gasp of surprise lodges in my throat when I take in the sight before me. Right on his desk are four empty bottles of whiskey scattered in a manner that screams drunk. And in his chair, he sits slouched, eyes trailing my movements.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him so…distraught and lacking composure.
When I reach him, I notice that his eyes are red and heavy, fist clenched around a half-empty glass of whiskey.
What the hell happened?
“What?” he deadpans. Surprisingly, his words aren’t slurry, and I briefly wonder if four bottles of strong whiskey aren’t enough to pass one out.
“I…uhmmm...” I shift awkwardly on my feet. What do I even say?
“I wanted to check up on you…see how your chest is healing.”
He stares at me blankly, fist tightening around his glass.
“You’re no doctor,” he says blankly, then lifts the glass to his mouth. Is he really drinking more? In this state?
I don’t know what comes over me, but I yank the glass out of his hands, wincing slightly as his gaze narrows darkly on me. Something about his stare is different. It’s heavy and filled with raging emotions that refuse to let out.
“That’s true, but I do know drinking an unhealthy amount of whiskey won’t solve whatever it is you’re going through.” Everything screams at me to walk away, but I stand my ground.
I swear I see a vein pop on his forehead as my words linger in the air.
I lick my suddenly chapped lips. If I want him to trust me enough with the things going on in this mafia, I can’t be running my mouth carelessly.
“You know,” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever the reason for this is...it’ll pass.”
“Don’t,” he growls. The venom in his voice slices through me like a blade.
I hold my breath. “It’s okay to feel, but what you shouldn’t do is drown in those fe—”
“I said don’t!” He slams his palms against the table, the loud sound resonating through the room as he rises to his feet sharply.
“You don’t know anything. You don’t know what it feels like to have the blood of a goddamn innocent child on your hands!”
My blood runs cold, his words sending a deadly chill down my spine. Tension slices the air, a vortex of emotions whirling inside me.
“You don’t know life, Selene.” His voice reduces to a deadly whisper, eyes pinning me to my spot. “So don’t you dare tell me what I should or shouldn’t feel.”
My heart rate spikes as he angles a finger at me, breathing heavily. In slow, unnerving strides, he curves out of his desk and starts towards me.
I swallow thickly, backing away. With each step he takes forward, I take one backward until my back hits the wall. He raises a hand, and I shut my eyes tightly. Then his fingers brush mine, yanking the glass out of my hold, and he takes a step back.
“Get. Out.”