Chapter 43
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Julia
Recovery is moving at a crawl, so much slower than I’d hoped. Every step feels like a rebellion, my body aches, protests, refuses to cooperate.
By the time a week passes, I’m ready to launch myself out the window if I have to stay in this room any longer. Maksim, of course, argued, but he could see I’d already made up my mind. We’re going home.
I’m not sure when that house outside Chicago started feeling like home, but that’s what it is now. My coffee maker on the counter, the little kitchenette, the loft with its wall of windows—all of it is our sanctuary.
But right now, home also means facing the last piece of our past: Aleksandr and Lupe.
It’s a sore subject. Max keeps assuring me they’re kept apart, that Lupe has food, water, whatever she needs.
Still, I can’t shake the anxiety. She’s still too close to that monster, probably terrified out of her mind.
Every movement is a reminder that my body is still healing, that I’m one wrong move away from reopening wounds that haven’t fully closed.
Lupe’s bullet could have done worse. She hesitated at the last second, and it hit my abdomen instead.
My liver’s still angry about it, but it could have been so much worse.
Max sits beside me, brow furrowed, his thoughts so loud I can almost feel the headache forming behind my own eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, sliding my hand over his.
He meets my gaze, and his voice is low, cold enough to send a chill through me. “You better be. Because if either of them causes you even the slightest bit of stress, I won’t hesitate, Julia.”
“I’ll handle Lupe,” I promise.
“If she tries to hurt you again—”
“She won’t.” I’m not sure I believe it, but I have to calm him somehow. The only reason he’s not at that warehouse right now is me. He couldn’t bring himself to leave my side, and he knew I’d never let him go alone.
After hours of flights and driving, we finally pull up to one of Roman’s warehouses. I shoot Max a worried look, silently praying Lupe hasn’t been kept here all week. The place screams mafia business—like the kind of spot where problems are solved and bodies are never found.
Roman answers the question before I can ask. “She was kept in a separate trailer the soldiers use for overnight missions. She had her own bathroom, her own bed, even a TV. I’d say that’s more than generous, considering what she did to us.”
“To us?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“To us, Julia. You’re part of this family, whether you like it or not.”
A warmth spreads through my chest—an emotion I can’t quite name. Maybe it’s meant more for Max than for me, but coming from a man who never shows vulnerability, it matters.
I walk toward the trailer where Lupe is being kept, letting Maksim know with a look that I need to handle this by myself.
“I’ll be right outside,” he says.
I nod and step inside the three hundred-square-foot space.
There’s a bed pressed against the wall, a table and chair in front of it, and a TV off to the side.
It’s almost like a prison cell, but I notice three magazines and two books on the table, even a small plant someone left on the floor.
Little signs that, even here, someone tried to make it bearable.
Lupe is reading when her eyes land on me. In an instant, she’s on her feet, closing the distance and throwing her arms around me.
“Gracias, Diosito! Julia…” Her voice cracks at my name.
A sharp pain twists through my abdomen, but I hold her tightly, refusing to let go. She wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger, and all I can do is hope she’ll come out of this without carrying the scars forever.
“I thought you were dead. No one would tell me anything,” she whispers, her eyes rimmed red from too many sleepless nights. She’s thinner now, her skin almost ghostly.
I thought I’d have the right words for her, but standing here, nothing seems enough.
She steps back, tears brimming, and asks, “Do you know anything about Aleksandr?”
The question slices through me. There’s hope in her voice—a part of her still clings to that man, and as much as I want to rip it out, she has to let go on her own.
“He’s here, in the warehouse, waiting for us to deal with him,” I say, my voice cold, distant. I see a storm of emotions flicker in her eyes. “Sit down, Lupe. We need to talk.”
She obeys, but her body is tense, on edge.
My chest tightens, knowing she doesn’t feel safe with me. Pain throbs beneath my shirt, and I just hope I haven’t torn any stitches. Maksim will lose his mind if I start bleeding again.
Come on, Julia. Just say it.
“After I left you that night, I went back for Mom and Dad. I got there just as the whole house went up in flames. I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the fire, maybe that was my first mistake, not realizing I’d been there too long. The men who came for Dad took me instead.”
Lupe’s face goes even paler, which is saying something. But if I stop now, I’ll lose my nerve, and the urge to protect her will cloud my judgment again.
“Those men were involved in human trafficking,” I say, forcing myself to keep going. “One of them decided to ‘test’ the merchandise before shipping it overseas.” My voice breaks.
A sound of pure agony escapes her, and her hands tremble as she covers her mouth.
“Julia…,” she breathes, horrified.
But I’m okay now. When I think about Martin now, I don’t feel his hands on me anymore. I see that gold tooth sitting in my jewelry box. I see Maksim, taking my power back for me, and I know Martin’s last breath left his body with my name carved into his skin.
“I ended up in Russia, where I met Maksim. He’s the one who saved me from a fate I probably never would have escaped on my own.”
“It’s been almost thirteen years…”
“I know. And I won’t lie and say I never had a chance to leave, but something always pulled me back. I’ve helped hundreds of girls, Lupe. Hundreds like you and Amalia, who had no one, who needed someone to fight for them or give them even a sliver of hope.”
For a moment, I just watch her, trying to read her thoughts. Amalia’s always been an open book, but Lupe? She could be thinking a thousand things at once.
“Was he there?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes. Not only was he there, he was one of the ones abusing the victims, Lupe.”
Tears streak her cheeks, and I wish I could take away even a fraction of her pain. I know how much love her heart can hold, and even if that snake doesn’t deserve a single piece of it, it’s there, and I can’t tear it out for her.
“Did he ever hurt you?” she asks, voice trembling.
“Not directly,” I say. “But there were nights I spent wide awake, waiting for him to come and make his promises true. It’s in his DNA, coneja.”
Lupe fidgets with the fringe on her shirt, searching for words. I wait, watching the way her brown hair falls across her face, the freckles scattered on her arm, the way she scowls at her own hands.
“I met him at a club, for a friend’s birthday when she turned eighteen. He told me to call him Alek, and even though I knew he had to be twice my age, he looked at me like I actually mattered.”
Breathe, Julia. This is her story.
“I was never the important one, never the girl people looked at twice. Amalia’s the smart, quiet one. She’s the one everyone wants around because she’s good, better than I could ever be. And I fell for it.”
I want to shake her, tell her Amalia isn’t better, just different. They’re both wonderful in their own ways, but at that age, it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and having a sister with a genius IQ can make it hard to see your own worth.
“He waited for me outside my college once. The second time, he invited me out for coffee. I’d never felt so seen by anyone.
For months, I didn’t suspect a thing. I even wondered how I’d gotten so lucky to meet someone so attentive, so sweet.
Until one day, he came to pick me up and tío Felipe told me he didn’t think Alek was a good choice for me. ”
A lump forms in my throat at the memory of tío Felipe lying on that kitchen floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. Executed. He sensed danger and refused to leave anything to chance.
“But he saw how excited I was and let it go. That’s when Alek first mentioned dangerous people after him, something about his business overseas. That’s why I asked Amalia to erase the security footage from the neighborhood. And then, a week ago…”
She struggles to go on, and for a moment, I want to stop her. I don’t need all the details—not when she looks like this.
“Amalia insisted on coming with us. If she hadn’t, she’d be dead too, wouldn’t she?” Her sobs come in sharp, panicked bursts.
She’s gasping for breath between words, so I sit beside her, laying my hands over hers. Her skin is icy cold.
“Most likely. He’s not the type to leave witnesses, Lupe.”
I watch my little sister fall apart, knowing I’ll never be able to take this guilt from her shoulders. No matter how much I want to, it’s her own shadow to carry.
“Tío Felipe died because of me. You almost died because of me. Why can’t I make a single good decision in my life?”
“He died because of Aleksandr. I know he pulled the trigger—”
“BUT I POINTED THAT GUN AT YOU!”
I lift her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze—our father’s eyes staring back at me.
“You’re nineteen, Lupe. You’re going to make mistakes and bad choices because that’s what being young is. But you’ll learn from them. You’ll grow. And one day, you’ll accept them. Tío Felipe was a victim. And I made my own choice to stay put that day. That’s on me, not you.”
“You never made mistakes,” she whispers.
I want to laugh, but the constant pain in my stomach reminds me I’ll tear my stitches if I do.
“You have no idea how many. Some hurt physically, some emotionally. Some hurt people I love.”
Two gray eyes flash in my mind. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but making him feel like he wasn’t my first choice…that was the worst of all.
I look at Lupe, and she seems a little calmer now. That’s my only comfort: that she’ll move forward without that man’s poison inside her, that this will be a brick in the foundation of her growing up, learning not to trust just anyone.
“Are you going to kill him?” she asks, and I try to gauge how much my answer will hurt her.
“Yes.”
She just nods, her lower lip trembling.
I could erase Aleksandr from the face of the earth, but I’ll never be able to wipe him from her memory. For her, he wasn’t the monster from my nightmares, he was the prince who made her feel special.
“One day, it won’t hurt this much,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
When this is over, when Aleksandr is finally gone, maybe we can go home and start to heal what’s left of our broken souls.
Maksim is leaning against the outer wall but straightens the moment he sees me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“No. How do you heal a soul that’s been shattered?” My voice barely makes it out.
He just holds me for a moment then cups my cheeks in his hands and murmurs, “It’ll heal on its own, when it’s ready. That’s what happened to me after you came into my life.”
I breathe him in—cedar and rain-soaked forest. There’s one more stop before we can finally close this chapter.
“Ready?” Roman’s voice comes from behind us.
We’ve been ready for this for years, but it still feels unreal to finally stand here.
The warehouse door groans open. In the center, suspended by ropes, Aleksandr dangles with only his toes brushing the concrete. His eyes find us, cold and venomous, and I’m amazed none of us flinch.
“You’re still alive?! Why won’t you just die already?” he screams, voice raw with desperation.
I freeze. Maksim’s hand finds mine, and I squeeze it, grounding myself. I won’t let Aleksandr’s words get to me, not after all the times he’s tried to reduce me to nothing, calling me a whore, a piece of meat, or a bug under Max’s boot.
Sweat beads on Aleksandr’s forehead, and bruises bloom across his ribs and stomach. And he still has the energy to spit his venom.
“And look, the great heir himself! What did you have to do to the old man to get him out of the way? Let him spend another night in your bed?”
Before I can even process his words, Roman steps forward, a bat in his hand, and swings it into Aleksandr’s side. The sound echoes, brutal and final.
“I SEE YOU HAVEN’T LOST YOUR SPIRIT THIS WEEK. THAT’S FINE. I SWEAR YOU’LL BEG EVERY SAINT FOR MERCY, AND WHEN YOUR SOUL IS ABOUT TO LEAVE, I’LL DRAG IT BACK JUST TO brEAK IT ALL OVER AGAIN!”
Roman’s voice is a storm, his eyes blazing. This isn’t the CEO in the tailored Hugo Boss suit, the man who opens hotels and donates fortunes to charity. This is the Russian mafia boss, the furious older brother.
“ROMAN!” Maksim’s voice booms through the warehouse.
I don’t know what silent message passes between the twins, but Roman steps back, settling near the exit, arms folded.
“You knew?” Maksim asks Aleksandr, his voice low and dangerous.
The snake just shifts on his ropes, balancing on his toes. “That he abused you? Spare me. We all knew. Your screams echoed across the estate those first nights.” He spits at Maksim’s feet.
Maksim circles him, and I hate the look in his eyes, the way he seems lost in old memories. I want to pull him back, to assure him that those nightmares are over, that he’s here, he survived.
“You think you were the only one abused?” Aleksandr sneers.
“Maybe I wasn’t as pretty as you, but there are plenty of ways to break a person, cousin .
At least you got something out of it. Me?
I stood by him through every rape and murder, and what did I get?
NOTHING! Just because he wanted you as his heir, when you reek of lost causes and savior complexes. ”
Max’s fists twist in Aleksandr’s shirt, searching for something in his eyes.
“I’D GIVE IT ALL BACK, JUST TO ERASE HIM FROM MY MIND!”
“That’s why you were always weaker than me even if the old man never saw it. I accepted the abuse, embraced it, became exactly what he wanted. And for what? So he could leave everything to a stranger, someone who doesn’t even share his blood?”
How can someone be so empty? This man led hundreds of children to their deaths, tortured souls without a flicker of remorse.
“It’s okay, Aleksandr. I’ve got an inheritance for you too. And it’s soaked in blood.”
All I hear is a sharp scream as Maksim’s blade sinks deep into Aleksandr’s abdomen.