Would I be able to live with myself if something happened to her? Knowing that for once she had nothing to do with the fight that had come our way, the answer wasn’t as clear as I would have liked. I wasn’t sure how much more my conscience could tolerate before my humanity would be a thing of the past.
Tires screeched outside suddenly, the sound tearing through the silent, early morning. The sun had only just begun to rise over the horizon beyond the trees, confirming Hugo’s words that I’d been out for several hours. I’d lost the entire night to sleep while people battled for their lives.
Hugo and Gabriel both jumped to their feet, moving toward the windows and peering out. “Stay here,” Gabriel ordered, making his way toward the exit at the front of the plane.
“I don’t have much choice, do I, asshole?” I called, turning my head as much as I could in the seat. He didn’t bother to reply, tuned into the seriousness of what he perceived as a potential threat.
Hugo and I watched out the windows as a van pulled to a halt next to the plane. Gabriel descended the steps outside quickly, his posture relaxing at whoever he saw within it. But I knew well enough to know it wasn’t one of Rafe’s vehicles.
I watched with dread as Matteo Bellandi stepped out of the passenger side, buttoning his suit jacket as he stood in a smooth unfolding of limbs. It seemed impossible that a man could be so composed, given the shitshow that must have happened overnight, but somehow I knew Rafe would be the same. Likely the only thing that could cause Matteo to lose his cool would be a threat to Ivory or the kids.
Gabriel and Matteo spoke briefly, then Gabe nodded and allowed Matteo to make his way toward the plane. “Better you than me,” Hugo said, grinning down at me as I grimaced. I fought the binds that kept me restrained. Thinking of being seen that way was humiliating, even under the best circumstances.
What the better circumstances for being tied to a chair would be, I didn’t know exactly, but I knew it could have been worse.
Hugo vacated the seat like the traitor he was as soon as Matteo came into view, letting the crime boss take the seat across from me. “Rafael will be here soon,” he said, unbuttoning that suit jacket and lowering himself into the seat. He seemed unperturbed that I was tied to mine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and studying me too closely. “How are you feeling?”
I raised a brow, scoffing and shaking my head in disbelief. “Like I’d feel much betternottied to my seat.”
He chuckled, his gaze narrowing on Rafe’s name carved into the valley between my shoulder and neck. He didn’t say a word about it, only letting out a disappointed grunt.
“Was anyone hurt?” I asked.
He twisted his mouth, nodding his head slightly. “Several people. There were casualties,” he admitted. “Your husband had to deal with the immediate fallout. I’ll handle the rest once you’re safely out of Chicago.”
“Your city isn’t exactly safe. Shouldn’t you be concerned about that?”
“I cannot remember the last time my city was well and truly safe. That’s what we’re working to achieve; unfortunately, safety doesn’t happen overnight or without bloodshed. Pavel will not be the last to challenge our new plans,” he answered.
I hadn’t known for certain if Pavel had been the cause of the attack, but it seemed like the obvious choice. The confirmation did nothing to calm my frayed nerves. “That doesn’t bother you? The fact that people will die because of a choice you made?” I asked, and he sighed as if he understood that my question was only partially for him.
“You and I are not the same. You can stab rapists through the heart all you want. You can seek vengeance for the people who have wronged you and your family, but at the end of the day you’re a good person who has done bad things, Isa,” he said as he stood. His hand touched my shoulder briefly, a reassuring pressure as he stepped around my seat and made for the exit.
“So if you’re not a good person, what exactlyareyou?” I asked, even though I could hardly see him when I craned my neck.
He paused, turning his head to glance down at me and meet my stare with his shock of blue eyes. “The same as your husband. A bad man who is willing to do terrible things and never bat an eye, but who has good intentions.”
“What good intentions can you possibly have selling drugs? Guns? Women?” I asked.
“If I didn’t do it, someone worse would. With me in charge, I have a chance of giving my children a real future that won’t be determined by men like Rafael and me,” he said, disappearing from view.
After a few minutes passed, he stood next to Gabriel on the tarmac, watching and waiting. For the car I knew had to come any minute.
For the husband who owed me some fucking answers and to get me out of this prison of a chair.