“Because, amigo, you’re the devil, Mikhail Dmitriyev. You are the fucking devil, el diablo, and we were all in a game of survival. She’s not from our world. She doesn’t belong in it, and I wanted her to have a way out. I wasn’t going to stand by and allow you to kill her. That’s what you would have done if you knew the truth.”
“Where is the real Adriana?”
“Dead. She was one of the first to get killed. She was on her way out when you came in. She left Natalia to do her fucking wedding dress fitting so she could go fucking around. That’s why Natalia was in her dress. Natalia was her maid. She suffered that fate after Raul ordered Felipe to kill her father. Before that, she had to watch Raul rape and slice her mother’s throat right in front of her.” His eyes cloud, and so does my heart as his words sink in.
“Natalia was to serve his daughter until Adriana married Felipe, then he was going to sell her,” he continues. At that moment I remember how she freaked out when she thought I was going to sell her. “That’s what her life was supposed to be. Death. Then you came along like a fucking wild card, and I saw a choice. Either she died at your hands or someone else’s. Being with you was the lesser evil. It gave me more time to think about how I was going to get her out.”
“You were going to take her away?” I seethe.
“Of course, I was. I still planned to do so even when I saw you were in love with her.”
His words sting me deep in my core, like acid being poured straight into my throat.
“I’m…” I want to tell him that I’m not in love.
I want to deny it, but the fucking words don’t come.
“Can’t say it, can you? Can’t tell me you’re not in love with her?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“You told me to talk, so I’m going to sing like a fucking canary. You’re in love with her, so her name shouldn’t make a difference to the way you feel about her. All the people who matter think she is Raul’s daughter, and the assets have all been transferred to you. You have control over the fucking cartel. So, knowing who she is shouldn’t make a difference to you. All you would need to do is love and protect her. You just won’t accept what’s so obvious to everyone else.”
I throw him on the ground and continue to stare at him, seething, my blood boiling.
I don’t want to accept that he’s right, but the shitty thing about this is still the sting of betrayal, and the joke is still on me.
I fell for her, but I still don’t know how she feels about me.
“I’ll kill you if you talk,” I threaten.
“If I cared about death, Mikhail Dmitriyev, I would have allowed you to kill me in Mexico. Men like me have their spot reserved in hell. That’s a surety, so I don’t care about my life. I care about hers, but you already know that.”
“Why? Why do you care about her so much?”
A tear runs down his cheek. “It’s my fault she’s in this mess, and my fault Raul killed her parents in such a violent way. If not for me, she would never have known Raul. My drug addiction got her father mixed up with him. She was a little girl when she first became his slave. Ten years old. Only ten. In my eyes, she’s still a little girl. I had to stand by and watch that girl’s life change and turn into hell. So, you don’t need to threaten me. You have my silence for anything to do with her. I just worry about who will save her from you.”
“Let me worry about that.”
As I walk away, I’m sure he’ll worry about what I’ll do.
I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing yet, and I don’t want to hear the rest of the truth.
I can’t go to her yet to find out. I don’t want to hear how she lied to me to save her neck. I don’t want to hear those parts that are obvious. I don’t want to hear how she pretended to love me so I wouldn’t kill her.
I don’t want to hear any of it, so I drive to the lake house, where I stay until the sun goes down and allow the onslaught of my thoughts to get the best of me.
39
Mikhail
It’s not until late that I decide to head home, and I only do so because I think of how I left my wife naked, alone, and scared in the basement, which will be dark now.
Leaving her like that for the rest of the night would make me more of a devil than I already am.
She must be terrified. She was terrified when I left, and still, she begged for José’s life. She didn’t beg for her life. She screamed for his, pleaded for his. All she asked for in regard to herself was forgiveness.
My mind is numb by the time I reach home. With no staff around, the place feels barren of life.
