even harsher in appearance, severe and unsmiling. I don’t remember ever hearing her laugh.
What I do remember are the arguments. My mother was never content with her place as the boss’s wife, and my father never stopped trying to put her in her place. She thought him weak, and he thought she was a bother and a burden. To hear her tell it, she would have been a far better boss than her husband.
This is the sort of future Jovan is suggesting for me. The kind I’ll have if I give in to Oleg’s demands. But marriage would eventually lead to children; in dynasties like ours, they always do because an heir is needed. To put any child of mine through what I suffered would be the cruelest thing I could ever do. My only consolation is that my father died before Marcella could grow old enough to witness what I did, to live what I lived.
I tear out of the room, desperate for a change of scenery away from the ghosts of my past.
11
Elena
I’m awakened out of a restless sleep by the sound of voices. Sitting up and yanking the blankets over my chest, I stare at the dark square of the door. My heart starts to race as I wonder if it’s Diego and why he’d come here in the middle of the night. I feel exposed as if his eyes are already on me, and I could kick myself for wearing the scanty pajamas Antonella ordered for me. I had planned to shun the silky, lacy scraps, but a deep longing for pretty things won out. I miss my cashmere blankets and my own silky pajamas. It felt good to slip between the sheets after a shower feeling feminine and comfortable.
The mood is gone as I slowly slip from the bed and creep toward the door. I realize now that neither of the voices is Diego’s. That only brings me the barest bit of relief. There’s always a guard outside my door—even through the night—but never two. If what they’re talking about involves me, I want to hear it.
When I press my ear to the door, their voices are muffled, but not enough to obscure the words.
“What the hell is he gonna do with her now?”
“Fuck if I know. I feel sorry for her, but a deal’s a deal. If Aguilar doesn’t pay up, his daughter’s dead.”
My skin grows instantly cold, like ice-water has flooded my veins. My heart drops as I grapple with what I’m hearing.
“There’s still a few weeks left. The fucker might actually pay up.”
“He’s leaving the country, estúpido! Why would he run if he plans to pay?”
I sink to my knees, holding both hands over my mouth to muffle the sobs bubbling out of my throat. My eyes sting with hot tears and my stomach wrenches as if I’ve been punched.
My own father will leave town rather than try to find a way to save me. When given no choice but to pay for my life or lose me, he chose himself. I don’t doubt he’ll hole up with my uncle in Brazil, hoping Diego doesn’t eventually find him.
Tremors roll through me as I realize that the end is near. Diego was already annoyed at the inconvenience of having to keep me locked down, and I made it worse by trying to escape. I find it hard to believe he’ll have the patience to wait until the end of the month. I could be dead in a matter of hours.
I stand on shaking legs and make my way back to the bed. But once I’m there, I can’t bring myself to lay back down. It feels wrong to continue being passive. It’s been days since my first attempt at getting out of this house. I had hoped to give it at least a week before trying again, but the time that has passed since then will have to be enough. Besides, the clock on the nightstand says its three a.m. Diego should be asleep by now. If I can get past the men outside my door, I can run and hope the hallways aren’t filled with security. I know there are more guards patrolling outside and the island police force to contend with, but I’ll have to eat this elephant one bite at a time. First, getting out of this room.
I move as quickly and quietly as I can, trading my pajamas for yoga pants and a T-shirt. The sneakers Antonella ordered are