He got out of bed and dressed quickly. When he came to get his phone, he bent down to kiss her. Mia turned her head at the last moment, and his lips brushed her cheek instead. His sigh cut through her, and she grabbed his hand. “Be safe and try to come back.”
“I’ll always come back to you.”
She looked up, struggling to hide her pain and fear. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, love.”
His eyes closed for a second, and he drew in a deep breath before opening them again. Pain, anger, and tenderness mingled in his expression. “I will come back. I promise.”
She squeezed his hand once more before letting go, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Mia watched him leave with a heavy heart. When the door slammed behind him, she scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. The sting of hot water sluicing over her in the shower washed away the bitter saltiness of the tears flowing, helping her hide her weakness even from herself.
She sat on the floor of the shower until the water turned tepid. Finally, with a deep breath that helped restore some of her composure, she stood to turn off the water. Wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, she stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, practicing a cool expression.
It would do no good to show Shane how much she hated his lifestyle. He already knew, and he’d taken her anyway. Even—or maybe especially—loving her, he’d never let her go, and she had already decided she didn’t want her freedom anyway. She had accepted earlier that loving Shane meant the good and the bad, and he hadn’t deliberately set out to hurt her by refusing to walk away from the mafia and take her somewhere else.
It had been impractical anyway, and she’d known it when she made the suggestion. Still, her heart had urged her to get them both far away from Aldo and the rest of the families, so they could live a life together free of this burden. Knowing it was impossible didn’t make it any less desirable.
When she was composed, Mia finished drying off and swapped the towel for a fluffy robe on the back of the door. Hers hung there too, but she deliberately selected Shane’s, enjoying the crisp masculine scent that clung to the fabric.
Wrapped in the next best thing to his arms, she exited the bathroom and was pleased to find a breakfast tray waiting. Shane must have ordered it on his way out. Touched by his consideration, she did her best to eat every bite of the hash and fruit.
As she drained her coffee, the door opened. Expecting Charla, it was a nasty surprise to see Selena instead. Mia scowled. “What are you doing here? I thought Shane fired you.”
The little Hispanic woman sneered, “He demoted me to kitchen staff and forbade me to interact with his whore.”
Mia was in no mood for her today. “Then why are you in my room? Do you want to lose your job?”
“I am here to take care of you.”
The words were innocuous, but her dark eyes were unsettling. Mia kept her expression bland, though a niggle of fear stabbed her. “Why do you hate me, Selena?”
The other woman seemed surprised by the blunt question but shrugged. “Why not tell you everything? Your father is a terrible man.”
“I won’t disagree.”
If Selena had any reaction to the agreement, it didn’t show. “In Mexico City, I was beautiful, but poor. The men who wanted me were unworthy, so I came to America with my cousin. We were determined to have a better life.”
Mia nodded, though she got the feeling her participation wasn’t exactly required for the tirade. Still, she made an effort to smother a yawn that crept up on her, not wanting the maid to think she was mocking her when she genuinely wanted to know why the other woman had such hatred for her.
“Women are always prey to men, but especially beautiful women.”
Mia could barely hold back the urge to roll her eyes. She supposed Selena might have been beautiful in her youth, but her constant harping about it was ridiculous. “Yes, you were a victim of your own beauty.”
Selena’s eyes narrowed, apparently recognizing the slight mockery in her tone. “I was tricked into an auction. It was supposed to be to find a wealthy American husband. Instead, Vadim Kasilli purchased me as his esclava.”
“Slave?” At the other woman’s nod, pity stirred. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like.”
That seemed to further irritate her. “You? Ha! You have been the pampered pet of Mr. O’Mara. I was held in a basement in chains. Beaten, raped, and starved, depending on Kasilli’s moods. He brought in his doctor to perform abortions on me because he did not want to bother with a condom, and I gained weight when he let me have contraception in the beginning.”
Mia closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.” It was surprisingly difficult to open her eyes, and she blinked a couple of times as a wave of lethargy swept over her.
“I would kill him with my bare hands if I could, but he is beyond my reach.”
She nodded. “How did you escape?” She politely hid another yawn.
“Your mother, Olga, discovered what was happening. She felt badly for me and helped smuggle me out of Kasilli’s house.” A trace of emotion besides anger briefly flitted across the older woman’s face. “She paid dearly for it. He murdered her.”
Mia blinked. “No, she died from a drug overdose.”
“He gave her that overdose, I am sure, if he didn’t beat her to death. She was a quiet woman, afraid of her own shadow, but she risked everything to help me, knowing he would kill her if he found out. She told me this herself.”
