Chapter 16
RENATA
I sit next to Ollie. He’s driving and has been in silence for over an hour. There’s no denying he’s the quiet sort and only talks when he feels he needs to.
Right now, he doesn’t need to. It’s not the brooding silence my father would lapse into once in a while, the type designed to make you feel guilty like you did something wrong and afraid of what he’d do next.
No. Ollie is as different from my father as humanly possible. His silence isn’t oppressive like my father’s was. It’s steady, commanding, as if he holds all the power in those unsaid words. It’s quiet authority, making his silence feel powerful instead of passive aggressive.
He’s as different from everyone as he could be.
I’m learning to lean into the quiet and silence and to appreciate when he does talk. He only speaks when he has something to say.
“Where are we now?” I ask, a little confused with the readings on GPS. Ollie said it’s unreliable here.
“We’re in the upper part of New York State,” he says quietly.
“There’s no sign that anyone’s followed us.
Aleks reports the drone carrying your tracker is having an excellent honeymoon in Puerto Rico.
” I stifle a snort. The ruse will be short-lived, and when Carlos finds out we deceived him, he’ll lose his fucking mind. But I’m enjoying this while it lasts.
“He could be gone,” I say quietly. “He could still be tracking the drone.”
Ollie sobers, his eyes on the road ahead of us. “Is that what you think?”
I look out the window. I swallow hard and respond cryptically.
“If Carlos is still alive, which you maintain he is… I don’t think he’s caught on yet.
I think Carlos is waiting, like a predator, waiting for the perfect moment.
Waiting until the time is right before he strikes—” I swallow, nod, and continue.
“Yeah. That sounds more his speed.” I lick my lips. “I mean, if he were here…”
What will he do when he finds the two of us? He knows Ollie means something to me. He knows he’s my husband.
My gut says retribution will be swift and merciless.
If it were just me, I’d be fucked. Thankfully, I’m not the only one here, the only one defending myself.
The Romanovs can hold their own.
I look out the window and twist a strand of hair. I nibble my lip thoughtfully. I have questions about him, about who he is. His motivations. I’ve seen him do terrible, cruel things, and yet…
“Ollie?”
“Mmm?” He taps the steering wheel as if lost in a world of his own. And maybe he is.
“Do you, like… ever have any regrets for… hurting people?”
He doesn’t really show any signs that my question disturbs him or fear of answering honestly. That’s not who he is.
I inspect an unruly cuticle and pick at it, suddenly nervous.
Finally, he shrugs a shoulder. “I’m not the family assassin, Renata.”
“I know, but… well. You’ve murdered people.”
He clenches his teeth. “Yeah. Truthfully?” He lets out a breath.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.” My heart beats faster. Do I want to know the answer to this question?
His voice is cold and ruthless when he finally answers. “My only regret is not making some suffer longer before I ended it.”
Oh God. My breath catches, but I force myself to stay composed, to not flinch or show discomfort. What do I say to that? What can I say?
Is he wrong?
Am I?
I’ve seen what people are capable of. I suppose if I were the average girl next door, I could have ended up with an average man.
Maybe we’d meet at a bar. Is that how people still do things?
We could be having conversations about grilling the perfect steak, discussing the best way to invest our money, or debating who to vote for in the next election.
But that life is a distant dream now. Ollie isn’t a next-door neighbor kind of guy. I can’t ask him to go for a walk on the beach or take me to a cozy dinner without considering the potential dangers.
He’s the man that walks through fire and expects you to follow.
His voice breaks through my thoughts, softer now, almost reflective. Another woman might mistake his tone as casual. “How did you get that scar, Renata?”
He’s watching me, really watching, and for a second, I feel exposed and vulnerable in a way I’m not used to. Answering him as his wife won’t be the same as answering him before.
The memory of that night flashes before me, the pain unbidden—the fear and blood. I swallow hard, tracing the scar. How should I tell him? Is there anything he already knows?
Driven by a need to survive, to protect myself from threats that constantly loom over me, I’ve had to be strong.
To push through. But there’s a part of me, deep inside, that still craves trust and acceptance.
A part that regrets the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt.
A part of me that wonders if I’d only done things right by my family, would they have kept me as their own?
But Ollie… maybe he doesn’t need redemption the way I do. He’s fully submerged in the darkness as if it’s part of his identity. And maybe that’s what is so unnerving and fascinating about him.
I take a deep breath and look ahead of me.
“There was a time when Carlos was protective and caring, but then he became obsessed with power and control. As he climbed the ranks in the cartel, he became best friends with Javier Morales. I wanted a way out. To him, looking for a way out was the ultimate form of betrayal.”
Ollie nods and barely reacts, but his jaw is clenched, and we’re driving faster now. The other cars outside our windows fly by. My belly drops as the needle on the speedometer creeps up.
“I discovered he’d been manipulating me. He wanted me to marry into another family. He had a good friend who was obsessed with me. An older guy. He set us up on a date, and at first, things were fine…”
I look out the window. I will never forget what it felt like to be that small and powerless, to know the only weapon I had was my body.
“His friend tried to seduce me. I wouldn’t let him. I left and ignored his calls. He was creepy as fuck.” I shiver at the memory of his oily voice and loose skin, the way he smelled like expensive cologne and cigars. “Then Carlos called me to him and announced that he’d arranged for my engagement.”
I laugh bitterly. “If I knew then what I know now… anyway, I told him no. We got into a huge fight during dinner. He threw his plate at me, and it shattered on my face. Isabella was the one who brought me to the hospital. She had a friend there who wouldn’t talk.”
Ollie’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. I can’t look at how fast he’s going. I reach a hand to his arm. “Please, Ollie. Driving faster won’t make this go away. Please, slow down.”
He lets out a long breath and begins to slow down. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
“I know.”
We sit in silence for a moment. He reaches his hand to my leg and strokes his thumb along the bare skin.
“My brother didn’t mean to hurt me. He saw the next step forward for our family and was taking the brunt of my father’s rage.”
“That doesn’t fucking matter,” Ollie mutters.
I sigh. “But it does. I’m not saying it was right, but he told me later that he was trying to protect me, and marrying into this other man’s family was the best choice.”
“The damage was done, though, Renata. He hurt you. He scarred you.”
“I know,” I say softly. I swipe at my cheeks, remembering how it was after that night. “After that, he didn’t trust himself not to hurt me, so he disappeared. There was a rift between us, a constant reminder of how far he had fallen.”
“Renata.”
“Yes?”
“Is there still a part of you that believes Carlos can be redeemed?”
I turn my head and don’t answer right away.
“Yeah. I still remember what he was like as a boy. How he took care of me. It’s… complicated. He might be a monster in your eyes, but he’s still my brother.”
“I know.”
“The brother I loved is still in there somewhere, Ollie. I know he is.”
The view outside our window has changed. The houses are farther apart now, and there’s more green between them. Wide fences mark property, and in the distance, the sloping mountains beckon with scattered clouds.
“Renata—”
“I know he is. Imagine if one of your brothers turned his back on you. Hurt you. You’d want him back, too, wouldn’t you?”
“First, the answer is… if any one of my brothers turned their back on my family, he’d be exiled. We aren’t united by blood, Renata. We were all adopted by my parents, our family forged on loyalty and love.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Second.” His voice takes on a darker, more serious edge. “I don’t appreciate being interrupted. I give you space to talk without interruption.”
I feel small and chastened. “Sorry about that.”
His voice is a low, soft command. “Interrupt me again, and you’ll find yourself over my knee before you realize what’s happening. Clear?”
My pulse races. I swallow and nod. “Mhm. Got it.” I look down at my hands and place one on top of his, my voice a low purr. “Yes, sir.”
His low growl of approval is all the answer I need. He may give me shit about my own kinks, but my husband is kinky as fuck, too.
“Your brother is our enemy. The brother you knew is gone, and if history is any indication, he will never return.”
I nod. It doesn’t hurt as much as I expected it would because he’s not telling me anything I don’t already know deep down in my heart.
“Renata,” he says softly. “You have a family now. A family that will protect you, cherish you, and fight for you no matter what. You’re a Romanov now, and we will prove our loyalty to you.”
I watch the fading sun outside our window, and my heart swells. He’s right. The brother I knew is gone. The man who took his place is no friend of mine. But the Romanovs are my family now, and with them, I’ll find the strength, loyalty, and love I’ve been searching for.
“Are you hungry?”
I sigh. “Always.”
He squeezes my knee. “Good. There’s a little diner ahead. No one’s followed us. Aleks is watching.”
I smile. “Oooh. I’ve always wanted to go to a diner.”
“I’m guessing you don’t have them in Colombia?”