20. Tayana
20
TAYANA
T he words I’m hearing are the kind that leave you breathless and struggling to stay upright. Rafi and his family rescued an entire container load of people—human beings crammed in like cargo, kidnapped, on their way to being sold as though they were less than human. The weight of it presses against my chest, equal parts awe and disbelief. It’s an act so selfless, so dangerous, and yet he hadn’t said a word about it to me. Instead, he stood there silently, taking my accusations, letting me lash out at him as though he deserved it. He accepted every last one of my insults without defending himself.
The memory of my words burns in my mind as he walks me to my room, his steps unhurried but heavy with unspoken thoughts. I can’t let the silence stretch any longer.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush. My voice wavers, but I press on. “For accusing you of being just as bad as they are. I should have known better. When you told me you were looking for someone who’d been trafficked, I should’ve known you’re not like them.”
He stops, turning to face me, his dark eyes searching mine. “You couldn’t have known,” he says simply, his tone soft but firm.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs his shoulders, tells me it was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.
“I should have listened to you,” I insist, the guilt clawing at me. My voice cracks, but he shakes his head, brushing my apology aside with a question that catches me off guard.
“What will happen now? To the shelter, I mean?”
I blink, his words pulling me back to the larger picture. “We’ll move again,” I say, my voice steadier. “It’s inevitable, anyway. Every few months, we relocate so we aren’t compromised.”
“That has to get expensive,” he remarks, his brows furrowing. “How do you fund something like that?”
“The government helps, believe it or not,” I say with a small smile. “And the goodwill of strangers. Families of the missing play a huge role—financially and with their time. You wouldn’t believe the services we’re able to offer because of them. Every save… it hits home for someone.” The pride in my voice feels foreign, but it’s real. Every life saved is a victory.
He nods, absorbing my words. “This is your room,” he says, pushing open the door to reveal a warm, inviting space. The bed looks soft, the walls painted in soothing tones, and there’s an ensuite tucked in the corner. It’s more than I expect—more than I deserve, maybe.
I thank him quietly, but as he turns to leave, I catch his hand, stopping him. “What’s going to happen now?” I ask, my voice low.
He sighs, his shoulders tensing. “We have to sort this thing out with your half -uncle.” His lips twitch as he remembers my defiance about my uncle’s bloodline earlier, but there’s no humor in his eyes.
I let out a half-hearted laugh, though the weight of the situation snuffs it out almost immediately. “How will you do that?” I ask softly.
“I have to talk to my brothers,” he admits, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is bigger than I imagined, Tayana. We have to get Maxine back. And we have to destroy Igor before he destroys us. If that’s why he’s here.”
The mention of Igor sends a chill through me, but it’s the next part that tightens the knot in my stomach. “My father…” I start, hesitating. “He doesn’t know about my work. The bodyguards don’t know. When they report back that they can’t find me, he’s going to start asking questions.”
“Will it help if you talk to him?” Rafi asks, his tone careful.
I bite my lip, unsure. “I honestly don’t know. What would I even say? He didn’t send me here to get into trouble. If he finds out, he might order me back home. And that’s the last thing I want.” Back to my ivory tower , a little voice whispers internally.
“You need to call him,” Rafi says after a moment. “I’ll organize a phone.”
“What will I tell him?” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
He sighs, his expression softening. “I don’t know, Tayana. You know your father best. But whatever you decide, I’m right here if you need me.”
His words settle over me like a fragile promise, and as he steps out of the room, I’m left alone with my thoughts. The walls feel closer now, the space too quiet. I sit on the edge of the bed, the conflict inside me churning like a storm. Rafi’s world is dark and dangerous, but there’s a light in him I can’t ignore. And yet, my father’s shadow looms large, his warning echoing in my mind.
I don’t know how he’s going to take this latest development, but I do know that I have to do something before he gets on a plane and comes out to drag me kicking and screaming back home.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Tayana!”
My father’s voice booms down the line, and there’s not enough space between his words for me to break in and defend himself.
“The deal was that you wouldn’t ditch your bodyguards!”
I don’t tell him I’ve been ditching them for the duration of my time here, hiding behind fake employment records they fell for, hook line and sinker.
“And now you’re where ?”
“In the countryside; I came to get away for a little while.”
“Why, Tayana? Why? Why would you do that?”
“I needed some breathing space.”
“From what? From who? What about university? Is this a stunt so you miss the last semester and have an excuse not to finish your studies? I swear to God, Tayana…I’m getting on a plane first thing in the morning. Send me your address. I’m…”
“Papa! Papa!” I screech, to get his attention.
He’s quiet on the other end of the line as he digests the fact that I’ve cut him off.
“I heard that Igor is here. Is it true?”
More silence. I think he’s hung up, until I hear his rapid, shallow breaths coming down the line.
“Igor’s there? Who told you that, Tayana? He never leaves the country.”
His voice comes out in a rush of words, as though he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince me.
“Can you check, daddy? I heard that he’s here.”
“Well, what is he doing there?” he asks quietly.
My father is another one who’s managed to remove Igor off his speed dial. I don’t know what happened between them, but once upon a time, they’d been thick as thieves, and the next thing I knew, they were at each other’s necks. My father still won’t talk about what happened between them. I know my mother, God rest her soul, hated him with a passion while she was alive.
“I don’t know, Daddy. I thought you’d know.”
“You haven’t seen him?”
My father sounds like he’s on a fact-finding mission.
“I haven’t. I don’t want to.”
“Good. Good,” he says, obviously distracted now.
Moments later when we hang up, my father’s anger has melted away, replaced by a calmer, measured tone. He’s no longer pressing me about why I ditched my bodyguards, but his sudden shift leaves me uneasy. I’m still mulling over his change in demeanor when a knock at the door snaps me back to the present.
Rafi steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the room. He looks drained, the weight of the day etched into the lines of his face.
“You work things out with your dad?” he asks, his voice low but tinged with concern.
I nod, but the gesture feels heavy, like my head might tip right off my shoulders. My fingers tighten around the phone, its surface cold and unyielding. A dark unease churns in my stomach, an instinct I can’t quite name but can’t ignore either.
Rafi notices, his gaze sharpening. “Kanyan thinks the Gatti Estate is the safest place for us right now,” he says, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “I agree with him.”
His eyes lock onto mine, unrelenting, as if he’s trying to gauge whether I’ll fight him on this. The intensity in his stare pulls me back into the moment, but the sinister feeling in my gut refuses to dissipate.
“I can go back home,” I tell him. “My bodyguards are there.”
He drags his gaze away, his eyes focusing on a point somewhere past my shoulder. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his lips pressed into a thin line, as though he’s calling on every ounce of patience and perhaps a silent prayer for divine intervention. His chest rises and falls in a deliberate rhythm, the kind of measured breathing someone does to keep their temper in check.
When his eyes meet mine again, they’re stormy, a tempest barely contained. His jaw is clenched so tight it looks as though it might snap, the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. The air between us grows heavier, charged with a frustration he doesn’t yet voice but doesn’t bother to hide. His entire posture screams restraint, but I can tell he’s one wrong word away from an explosion that would rival a volcanic eruption.
“Why would you do that, Tayana? Where were your bodyguards when the shelter was attacked?” He takes a step closer.
“I told you, they don’t know about my work.”
“You really believe that, Tayana? Is that what you tell yourself at night so you can sleep better? Hmmm?” His anger is starting to scare me.
“What the hell, Rafi?”
“You think they wouldn’t have run checks on your so-called workplace ? What sort of bodyguards do you have? This was an inside job, Tayana. Despite what you may think of me, someone on your team sold you out; there’s no way they found you through me.”
“Everything started going to shit after you turned up!”I remind him.
“Timing, Tayana. It’s everything. But that’s all it is. Now tell me what your half -uncle wants from you so I know what I’m dealing with here.”
I shake my head vehemently, conflict running through my veins. Too much of what he’s saying is making complete and utter sense, even though I don’t understand it any more than he does.
“I don’t know!” I stammer. “I don’t know!”