She smiled as she lifted her red stained book. “That’s why I brought the chains. You will learn, and when you have, I’ll let you see him. Pictures, videos, maybe a few of his old toys over time.”
I felt my heart stop. I didn’t want her anywhere near Ethan, my Ethan. How would she be able to get videos and pictures? The mole. But who would Liam let close enough to our child for that?
“Olivia. Olivia is the fucking mole.” She hated me enough. She wanted me gone…
“Try again.” She flipped her page, but I couldn’t see who else. It couldn’t be Coraline, she was just too sick, Evelyn…hell no. Neal? No, he craved Liam’s love. None of the family would betray us like this. But, who the hell would be that close, Fedel, Monte, Antonio… the only other person would be…
“You know, don’t you?”
“Adriana.” I hit my head against the seat. Fuck.
“To her credit, she’s willing to do anything for you. All I had to do was tell her the truth and she realized what you cannot. You’re not safe. She was starting to withhold information, so I reminded her who she worked for. So sad her love had to die because she got cold feet.”
This was my fault. How could I trust her? Orlando had always told me humans were liars by nature, that friends were foes in disguise and to never make it personal.
How dare she?
“You’re hurt.”
“No, I’m enraged and looking forward to putting a slug through her ungrateful little heart.” Leaning back, I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax, but my body couldn’t take any more right now. All I could do was close my eyes and plan. Nothing she said had changed how I felt about her. The moment this plane landed, I would have to act. Fast.
THIRTY-FIVE
“Imagine trying to live without air. Now imagine something worse.”
—Amy Reed
MELODY
“Five days ago, my wife Melody Giovanni Callahan was kidnapped only hours after giving birth to our son. I want her back. My son and I need her. My family and I are offering one hundred million dollars for her safe return. Mel, if you’re watching, I’m not giving up. I won’t ever give up until I have you back. Our son and I miss you and love you so much…”
“I think that’s enough for now.” Aviela’s voice grated on every nerve in my body.
My hatred for her continued to fester each moment spent in her presence. She turned off the television, and rushed from the kitchen to place a plate in front of me. “Giant meatballs and spaghetti. Your favorite, right?”
I just stared at her, doing nothing to hide my hatred and disgust for the woman who gave birth to me.
“A hundred million? You should be insulted.” She took a seat at the other end of the luxurious dining room table before spreading her napkin and dropping it on her lap. She had chained me to every fucking chair until we reached this place, which, from what I could tell, was on the edge of a beach. Then, I was upgraded to a wheelchair. The last two days had been more of the same rhetoric about how she was trying to save me, how she only did this to protect me.
I didn’t know who she was trying to convince.
All this time I thought she was some cold-hearted mastermind, always plotting, always one step ahead of us because she was just that good. But I was wrong. She was delusional; I wasn’t even sure if she really understood what she was doing. Part of her still saw me as that little girl she left in the middle of the ocean, while another part of her understood I was grown.
I thought she was strong; I’d admired her tenacity and her tactics in getting what she wanted done efficiently and effectively, but the moment she spoke of her father, Ivan, she became weak. Whatever he had done to her had broken her. She was at his beck and call—his lap dog—and it disgusted me. She was no better than the low-level sycophants that worked for me.
Every day she washed and combed my hair and even dressed me, all while keeping me chained. She treated me like I was her own personal doll. The second day I tried playing nice, today I tried not speaking. There was something seriously wrong with this woman.
Despite my tactics to evoke a reaction from her, she acted as if nothing fazed her. The only time I got a response from her was when I “misbehaved.” Other than that, she gave no indication that she was here in this space other than physically. I needed to get out of here but I didn’t even know what country I was in.
“Do you need me to get someone to help you, sweetheart?” she asked, cutting into her food with her finely polished silverware. She nodded over at the soon-to-be dead rat’s rail thin frame at the door. Nelson came over, and like a robot, he cut into my food before bringing it to my lips.