Chapter 18 #2
“I swear, I’m not. He’s only trying to trick you, to hurt you as a way to punish your father.
What did he tell you? That he’s going to keep you safe?
It’s all an act. He probably plans to kill you.
” She lets a breath fall sharply. “I can’t lose my only daughter.
Let me help you. Let me get you out of there. ”
I back against the wall, my body sliding down as the phone falls away from my ear, still gripped in my aching palm.
Kill me?
No, Dante wouldn’t do that. I refuse to believe I have feelings for my own murderer. But could he really be the one at war with my family?
I met his brother, Dom, once when he cut his hand and needed my help. Are they all involved? Is that why Dante has so many bodyguards around? Is it to protect him against my family?
Oh my God! How could I be this stupid?!
My lower lip trembles.
I slept with him. I gave him pieces of myself I can never take back. The phone falls out of my hand, bouncing on the rug between my legs, and I shatter. My palms cover my face, sorrow shackling me like a web of invisible chains. My quiet sobs split through me like fresh slices across my body.
The passion we shared was all a lie. He doesn’t care about me. He was merely using me. I’m nothing but a puppet.
“Raquel! Are you there?”
I pick the phone back up, wiping away under my eyes with the other hand. I try to steady my tremulous breaths and tearful gasps, but it’s no use. I’m too far gone.
“Are you crying?” Mom asks. “What happened? Is he there?”
“N-no. I…oh, God, Mom. I married him.” I cry quietly, so Janet doesn’t hear.
“What?!” she bellows.
I pull the phone away from my ear, not wanting to hear her screaming.
“Raquel, what did you say?”
“I said I married him. It was part of our deal, okay? Three months of…of marriage for money and a passport.”
“That son of a bitch. When your father and uncles find out…” Her voice hits an all-time high.
“I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone, but your uncle Faro was killed.
Rumor is Dominic, one of the Cavaleris, took Chiara, and she…
she did it. She killed Faro. Can you believe that?
I just…I never saw that coming out of her.
She was always such a sweet girl. I don’t understand how she could murder her own father in cold blood. ”
“What? Wait. I’m sorry. I don’t understand any of this.” My fingers bite into the center of my chest, the heavy thud of my heart rattling with a deafening beat.
“I know. She’s crazy like her mother.”
Dante’s brother took Chiara? When?
This can’t be real. Dante can’t be who she says he is. Chiara wasn’t kidnapped. I just spoke to her. She would’ve told me.
Why didn’t she tell me?
I can’t breathe, though I desperately try. The room is spinning; my left arm is prickling from too much anxiety.
“Raquel, let me help you.” There’s sincerity in her tone I haven’t ever heard from her. “I swear, no more Carlito. I just want you back. You tell me where they live, and I’ll get you. I would’ve gotten you as soon as possible, but we couldn’t find their addresses.”
I don’t know if I trust my mother, but right now, I trust Dante a lot less. Or more like not at all. I have to leave, and once I’m out of here, I’ll figure out what to do. If that means moving away from my family, then I’ll find a way. I have no choice.
The man I thought would be the answer to all of my prayers turned out to be nothing but a monster in disguise.
“He has guards everywhere,” I explain. “You can’t come alone. Maybe I can find a way to leave the house and meet you somewhere.”
I massage my temple as the pounding inside it radiates down the back of my neck.
“Don’t worry about any of them,” she continues. “I’ll get your father’s men on it. I’ll arrange everything. There’ll be a van by the house in exactly one hour. All you have to do is come out the front, pretend you have a good reason, and then we’ll get you.”
I shake my head with disbelief.
He betrayed me. He lied to me. He never cared about me.
He was just another Carlito. Using me. Hurting me with his deception.
No more. I’m done allowing people to treat me like garbage. I deserve more than that. I owe that to myself. Letting my eyes slam to a close, I know I have no other choice but to leave.
“No guns, okay? And don’t come with too many people, or they’ll get suspicious. I don’t want a fight. Promise me.”
My mom might as well be a mobster herself. She’s scarier than my father on most days. I guess that’s because she’s the daughter of a don. My grandfather died before I was born, but from everything she’s told me about him, he was powerful and ran his family with an iron fist.
“I promise. No guns. Can I call you on this line?”
“No. It’s not mine. I’ll be out in exactly an hour. I’ll text you the address now. Hurry.”
“Okay. Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
I hang up and send her the address, then erase the text before getting to my feet. Returning to the kitchen, I find Janet with a mug in her hands and the smell of coffee drifting in the air.
“Are you okay?” Her brows furrow as her pale blue eyes assess me. “You look like you were crying.”
“I’m fine.” I brush a hand over my face, leaving her cell on the counter. “My mother can be difficult.”
“Ah,” she laughs. “One of those, huh? Sounds like mine. She’s still alive and driving me crazy any chance she gets.”
“Sounds like they’re related,” I snicker as I head for the freshly brewed coffee, grab a mug from the cabinet overhead, and pour some.
“Maybe they could become friends and leave us alone.”
“Ha. I wish.” I roll my eyes at her playfully as I find the creamer and sugar.
“Me too, honey. Me too.”
She gets off the chair, advancing toward the sink to wash her now-empty cup.
“I’ll see you later for dinner, okay?” Her hand falls to my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I return a smile. “Thanks again for letting me use your phone.”
“Anytime.” She moves over to the table and grabs her handbag, waving goodbye before she goes.
As soon as the door clicks to a close, that gnawing in the middle of my gut is back. The hurt Dante left inside pours into my heart. I weep silently into my hands, the tears like drops of acid, burning scars across my palms.
After long minutes of drowning in heartache, I force myself to finish my coffee in slow sips, knowing that in less than one hour, nothing will be the same.