CHAPTER ELEVEN
LILIANA
Most kids had fathers growing up. They came home to both their parents and they had healthy, happy lives. I didn’t have a father though. All I had was my mother and I used to think it was enough. That she was enough.
The truth is I was only lying to myself.
I would watch other little girls with their fathers and wonder where mine could be and why he abandoned us.
Did he have a choice? Would he want me if he knew I existed?
Those thoughts ran through my head often.
I wanted to know who he was and what he did for work.
And now faced with the answer to all my questions, I find myself conflicted.
Maybe it’s because I’m a big fat hypocrite.
Right now I’m faced with a similar situation my daughter might one day experience.
The truth of a father that was kept away from me to protect me.
And I realize there’s really no winning this situation.
Because no matter how hard I try to be enough for Mila, she would yearn for her father same as me.
An uneasy feeling slides through my chest at the realization.
Plus, I don’t think Rafaelle’s giving me much of a choice when it comes to finding out the truth. For some reason, I believe he knows exactly who my father is. So, I do as he says and finish my food, anticipation and dread crawling through my chest.
“Ready to find out your birth secret, siren?” he asks once I’m done.
I look up at him, my eyes roaming over his face like I could delve into the dark alleys of his mind.
“Telling me this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you for kidnapping me,” I feel the need to mention.
He rolls his eyes, “Like I keep saying, I didn’t mean to kidnap you. If I had found you any other way, I probably would have approached you and tried to have a civilized conversation.”
Why does he keep saying civilized conversation like he’s anything but a brute?
“I still would have tried to run away,” I state. “The kidnap aside, you’re still the same man who cut off my friends’ fingers and burned down my former place of work.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, “Touche. Now get up.”
He rises to his feet and stands above me, offering a hand to help me up. I stare at the hand offered, my heart doing awkward palpitations in my chest. Self-preservation has me slapping it away, instead using the bed at my side to rise to my feet. I don’t miss his amused smile.
My gaze goes down to the containers remaining from my meal, wondering where I could dispose of it.
“Someone will take care of it,” he assures me, following my gaze.
“Where are we going?” I ask warily.
“You’ve been cooped up in here for a day, Liliana. You need fresh air, come on. You asked for a tour of my house once, remember. I’ll give it to you now.”
The worst part about Rafaelle isn’t the knowledge that he’s a monster that cuts peoples’ fingers off. The worst part is moments like this when he acts kind. It confuses me, makes me forget who the enemy is for a second. Makes me believe he could even be human.
“Stop reminiscing about that night,” I scowl.
Putting me in this bedroom, bringing me the same food order.
It’s too much.
His eyes flick to mine, “Why? Cause you regret it?”
No. The word is right on the tip of my tongue but I don’t say it. He would get the wrong idea. I don’t regret it because that night gave me my beautiful daughter and added meaning to my life.
But Rafaelle absolutely doesn’t need to know that.
In the end I don’t reply, moving past him towards the door. I really do need to get out of this room. I can feel the walls closing in with each second that passes.
I flinch slightly when I put some weight on my leg, forgetting for a second that I got injured. Rafaelle’s expression darkens when he notices.
“You weren’t supposed to get hurt, Liliana.” The low words stroke the side of my neck and an ember of heat stirs to life in my belly.
“Can you just get on with the story you have to tell me?” I ask, my throat dry as I inch away from him.
He walks out of the room and I follow, taking in space that isn’t the four walls of the bedroom for the first time in thirty six hours.
Rafaelle seems to understand that I need to go outside because that’s where he leads me.
To the back of the house. There’s a garden there, flowers and vines grow unrestrained.
It’s beautiful, and there’s a bench smack dab in the middle of it.
The moon hangs in the sky, it’s low light washing over us.
We take a seat, me trying to get as far away as I possibly can on the small bench. I don’t like what proximity to him does to my senses.
“Who’s my father, Rafaelle?” I ask impatiently.
“His name is Ignacio Navarro. He’s a Mexican drug lord in his late fifties.
Probably the most powerful drug lord in the city.
He came down here from Mexico with nothing but the clothes on his back, but he’s worked hard most of his life to change that.
Now he has hundreds of men beneath him whom he commands and a shit ton of wealth as well.
He controls most of the drug supply in the city.
If you want to work in the underworld in Jersey, you either go through my family, or you go through Navarro. ”
I’m silent throughout the explanation up until the end. The revelation doesn’t surprise me, my pulse stays the same and there’s no painful clenching in my heart. I always knew what kind of man my father would be. Those aren’t the answers I want and that’s not the story I want to hear.
I decide to focus on something else, there’s an underlying twinge of emotion in his tone that I can’t ignore.
“You hate him. My father,” I mention.
His lips pull up in a harsh smile, “I don’t hate him, little siren. I want him dead.”
“Oh,” I mutter, finally feeling my heart clench. “What did he do to you?”
“He has a habit of getting involved in my business and messing with me. Thanks to him, a lot of good men that worked for me died. Your father’s a sadistic bastard that gets off on playing games with people’s lives.”
“And you think you’re so different?”
“I don’t play games, Liliana.”
“And yet here I am. You’re using me to get to him, aren’t you? What would you call that if not a game?”
He exhales a short breath, the muscles in his jaw clenching.
“Like I keep saying, I didn’t want to use you. You have my brothers to thank for this situation. Up until two days ago, I had no idea who or where you were. I had no clue that the lost Navarro princess was the same woman I got entangled with not too long ago.”
The lost Navarro princess? The statement is laughable. Almost.
“So you’re saying me landing in your lap was a happy accident.”
He glances at me and his lips twitch.
“I guess you could say that.”
“And now that I’m here, what comes next? Does he know about me now? My father?”
He shakes his head once, “Not yet.”
Hope flares in my chest at the admission.
“Then there’s still time. Rafaelle,” I swallow softly, knowing I’ll have to throw away my pride. It’s a good thing I’ve never had too much of it. “Please, just let me go. I have to get back home, to- to my mother. I don’t want any part in all of this. This isn’t my life.”
He stiffens and for a second I think I may have gotten through to him. But my heart plummets when he turns to look at me and I realize I must have said the wrong thing.
“Unfortunately, Liliana, this is your life now. The sooner you get used to it, the better it is for everyone.”
Heat washes up my back as resentment stirs, obliterating all traces of self-preservation.
“Screw that and screw you, Rafaelle. I will get away from here. I’ll find a way to escape and once I do, this time I’ll disappear completely. I’ll wipe myself from the face of the earth and it’ll be like I never even existed. You will never find me again.”
A growl from deep in his chest resounds in my ear.
“I’d like to see you fucking try,” he spits.
“I’m trying my best here, little siren. I’m being nice.
I fed you and I cleaned your wounds and I’m here telling you the truth and explaining the situation because I figured you deserved at least that.
Do not make me regret it. You’re never going to be able to disappear again.
In a week or so, everyone will know you’re Ignacio Navarro’s daughter. ”
“But until then,” he leans in closer. My heart is in my throat but I hold my ground and his stare, “You’re mine, Liliana. Mine to do whatever it is I wish.”
Finally I snap, do what I should have done the second I saw his face.
All the pent-up resentment bursts out of me and I lift my hand to slap his face, putting as much force behind it as I possibly can.
The crack echoes sharply through the garden.
Rafaelle’s head snaps sideways, I suspect it has more to do with surprise than physical pain.
When he looks back at me, his expression is simultaneously calm and furious. Tension licks up my spine, along with fear. I regret the slap almost immediately. Why do I keep poking a bear? He’s more than capable of mauling me to death.
“I’m fucking done being the nice guy,” he mutters, more to himself than me.
“W-what?”
He wipes the side of his cheek where the slap landed, his voice restrained.
“You want to leave so badly?” he asks looking at me, all the darkness in his eyes unleashed. “Then run, little siren. I’ll even give you a head start.”
I consider my options. Running means he’ll chase me. Staying put though, could spell my doom. At least if I run I’ll get a chance. I jump to my feet, walking backwards still taking in his terrifying gaze.
Something in my mind reminds me that I’m valuable collateral. There’s no way he would hurt the long lost Navarro princess. But the panic in my veins says otherwise. It hard to stand your ground when your would be attacker is six foot three inches of solid muscle and strength.