20. Wise Advice #2
After he left, she clasped Gabriel’s hand. “Heavenly Father, thank you for my Gabriel. He is so much like Luca. Help me to help him with the answers he seeks. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Amen,” Gabriel murmured.
Elsa dug in, but Gabriel didn’t.
“I was taught not to trust,” he said. “Taught to control, manipulate, and manage people like cattle. Steer them where you want them to go. Tell them what you want them to do and how you want them to do it.”
She nodded before forking a piece of fish into her mouth.
“Someone tried to kill her last night and I stepped between the killer and her,” Gabriel continued.
“Were you hurt?” she blurted.
“I’m wearing body armor. It protected me.”
“It must be love for you to do that.”
“She has a dangerous job,” he continued. “I don’t like—”
“Not being in control?” Elsa asked.
“Exactly.”
“Do you trust her?”
“Yes. I know she loves me. I believe her when she says it. She asks about me. She’s interested in me. She isn’t looking for something from me.”
“Do you like her parents?”
“I haven’t met them, but I met her brother.”
“And?”
“He’s standoffish, very protective of her. I thought he was someone she was seeing, so I wasn’t my friendliest.”
Elsa smiled. “I wouldn’t expect that from you. You’re always guarded. That’s a good way to be. Relationships take time. Are you in a rush to marry her?”
“No.”
“At some point, are you returning to Italy?”
Sadness filled his soul. For the first time, leaving his family left him feeling alone… and lonely, especially since losing Angelo. “I have businesses that I love, that I started from nothing. My empire is there.”
“Would she go with you?”
“I haven’t asked her. The relationship is too new.”
“What about children? Do you want them? Does she?”
“Isn’t it a little soon—”
“Would you want to find out she wants them—or doesn’t—after you’ve been together for years and you’re even more in love with her?”
Elsa had a point.
“Love makes us vulnerable.” She patted his hand. “That is something you are not. As you get to know her—”
“She’s the one. I know it in my gut.”
Elsa’s warm smile lit up her eyes. “I look forward to meeting her, Gabriel.”
“Thank you for helping me sort through that.”
“You didn’t need my help, but I’m happy we get to spend time together.”
“Anch'io, nonna. Anch'io.” Me, too, grandmother. Me too.
HALSTON
Still blindfolded, Halston tried keeping track of the turns Natasha took, but she had no idea where they were headed. All she knew was that Natasha was driving west, away from the sun.
The ALPHA tracker in her neck was a bust. Her spyware glasses were tucked in her crossbody, strapped across her chest. She was wearing the ring tracker, but it hinged on Gabriel looking for her.
While she could make small talk with Natasha, she wasn’t going to. Yes, she’d been trained to get to know her abductor, to humanize the experience so they might release her, but Halston was staying silent… for now.
She’d been taken for a specific purpose that would reveal itself upon their arrival.
Unless they know I’m a double agent and they’re driving me to my death.
A chill ran down her spine, her hands grew clammy. If she started second guessing, it would only make the situation worse.
Calm. You’re Minka. Play along.
After what felt like twenty minutes, she was confident they’d left the city, which meant they were somewhere in Northern Virginia.
Halston wanted to lift the blindfold, tilt her head back and catch a glimpse of their location, but she sat mannequin still.
The only sign she was alive was her slow and steady breathing.
“Grigori spoke to me about you,” Natasha said, breaking the long silence.
Halston said nothing.
“He is concerned you lie to us.”
More silence from Halston.
“Is that truth?” Natasha asked.
“I don’t lie.”
“He follow you to hotel,” Natasha continued.
The urge to defend herself had words poised on the tip of her tongue, but it was too soon. If she started talking, it would look like she was eager to clear her good name.
Say nothing. Not yet.
“You take elevator up,” Natasha said. “Why you at hotel?”
“I had rats in my apartment.”
“Ew. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When the rats crawled over me while I slept, I spent a few nights in a nice hotel.”
“I can move you,” Natasha replied.
So, she isn’t executing me?
“I checked embassy housing,” Halston said. “Still nothing. Whatever you can do is appreciated. Rats poop everywhere.”
“I didn’t see any—” Natasha stopped herself.
You’re the one who broke into my shithole apartment. Time to take control.
“You were in my home?” Halston asked.
“I… um… er… yes.”
“Why?”
“To check on truth. Grigori say you are spy.”
Halston let the words hang in the air like a virus.
“Are you?” Natasha pressed.
The car slowed. If they’d been on the beltway or a four-lane road, like Route 7, she’d turned off it.
While Halston could be afraid—she certainly had legit reason—she was not. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to get tortured. But she would not break.
Of that she was certain.
She pulled down the blindfold, glared at Natasha. “You disgust me.”
“Put on blindfold.”
“Go to hell,” Halston seethed now staring straight ahead.
After a few seconds, she continued. “You searched for information on me. Verified the orphanage. You found nothing but a girl who spent her life surviving… mostly alone. A young woman who pulls herself from nothing, earns her way into the government. What bigger honor is there? Now, I serve at the direction of our ambassador. You could not have insulted me more, Natasha. You. Are. Dead. To. Me.”
She released those last five words in a controlled rage, turning the air tense. In that moment, she had everything to lose. Natasha might have learned the truth. Snitches and confidential informants weren’t loyal to others. Their loyalty was to themselves… to the cash, to the promised perks.
The vehicle slowed, made another turn, then drove on a deserted road toward an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.
Adrenaline was charging through her but she remained motionless. Unlike earlier, when she’d learned that her mom and dad had been taken and she’d lost it.
Never again.
“You are right,” Natasha said. “I made calls. You are truthful. The ambassador trust you. We are good, yes?”
“We are not good,” Halston seethed. “I serve our government and our ambassador. I do not serve you.”
“We are here.” Natasha cut the engine, opened her car door, the cold air filling the warm vehicle.
Halston stared straight ahead.
Her abductor walked around, opened Halston’s car door. “Out.”
Halston exited. After Natasha closed the passenger door, she clutched Halston’s arm and led her to a metal door.
There, she made a call.
“Da,” answered the Russian.
“My zdes',” Natasha said. We’re here.
Seconds passed while the January frost bit into her cheeks, the chill rejuvenating her. The door clanged open, screeching on its hinges. Natasha shoved her inside. Halston slid on her spy glasses as the bulky guard stared down at her.
Ignoring him, she took in the space. They stood in what looked like an abandoned warehouse—a room, thirty-by-sixty.
An unfinished space with high ceilings and bare bulbs hanging from rafters.
Gray cement floor, three long conference room tables and several chairs.
With a quick glance, Halston counted ten laptops, three or four per table.
In the corner stood a large barrel-sized trash can.
“Eto Minka. Perevodchik,” Natasha said to the man. This is Minka. Translator.
Halston eyed the man who stood with his arms crossed, a pistol in his hand. Dark hair, bulbous nose, ruddy complexion. His beady eyes drilled into her. He smiled, revealing a gold front grill.
Charming.