The tires bump over the rough desert road—sand and gravel kicking up and pinging off the paintwork of the car rhythmically. The air conditioner blows icy cold air over my exposed skin, contrasting with the heat of the sun pouring through the window.

Anna sits beside me on the back seat, her hands folded in her lap. She’s right there, and yet a thousand miles away. It’s been two days since she cut herself. Two days since I nearly lost her. And two days since she returned to me. And yet sometimes I notice her slip away for a few moments. I should have a little more patience, but that invisible bubble she seems to force around herself at times bothers me.

Whatever happened in Russia has fundamentally changed her. She’s different…and yet the same. She still holds that innocence—that inherent goodness that draws me to her as if she were the sun itself, but something has shifted. Her spirit is just a little more broken than it was before, and that may be the hardest thing to bear. After nine years of slavery, she managed to stand strong. I watched her become a little less jaded, a little more trusting, bit-by-bit. Day-by-day. And yet, in the two months she was taken from me, and the month following, she’s lost that infinite shine. My mind is filled with vile images, possibilities of all the things they could have done to try and break my little warrior. 

I glance at her, her gaze fixed out the open window as we pass endless miles of desert. The sunlight dances over her pale skin, and she closes her eyes, absorbing it. Taking her hand, I thread my fingers through hers compulsively. It’s not a want so much as a need to touch her, to know that she’s here and safe—with me. She rolls her head to the side, resting her cheek against the back of the seat as she looks at me. And there it is, a sadness that clings to her in a way it never did before. 

I lift her hand and brush my lips against her knuckles. “Talk to me, avecita.”

“About what?”

About what? Do I want her to tell me everything that happened? Do I really want those details? “That look in your eye. I’ve seen you down and scared, little warrior, but never so defeated.” I inhale a sharp breath. "If you need to…tell me…about what happened, you can.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear and takes a staggered breath. “Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Once a whore—“

“Don’t.”

“Rafe, you may not see me as a whore, but everyone else does.” 

“No one else matters.”

Her lips twitch. “No. They don’t.” She’s silent for a moment. “It’s not them.”

I tilt my head. “Then what?”

She sighs. “I can comprehend the acts of cruel men. It’s all I’ve known. But Una was always this…hero to me. When we were children, she protected me, sheltered me, from everything. Our parents’ death, the orphanage, starvation…” A small smile touches her lips. “For years, through the worst abuse, I survived because I dreamed of a day when she would rescue me from it all. It was a child’s fairytale of course. I didn’t even know if she was alive or dead. Years passed and hope faded, and I stopped dreaming of my long lost sister and accepted what my life was. But then Nero bought me, and I came to you.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “And I found out she was alive and had gone to all these lengths to find me. It felt like the fairytale had come to life, and I had hope, Rafe.” She drops her chin to her chest. “When I saw her in that cell, I thought she had come to save me like some white knight.” She shakes her head, a humorless laugh slipping through her lips. “I guess nine years of slavery couldn’t do to me what she did in a single minute…” Her eyes meet mine. “Break my heart.” 

I cup her cheek, sliding my fingertips through her hair. “Avecita, she can break your heart. And I’ll be right here to put it back together.”

She falls forward and presses her forehead to my chest. “If I give it to you, will you keep it safe for me?” she whispers. 

“Always.” 

She lifts her face again until her lips are only a whisper away from mine. “You’re the only person in this world I trust. You’re all I have now."

“I’m sure your sister has her reasons. Don’t write her off.”

Her eyes harden, her expression becoming closed off. “I already have.”

I release a long breath. “I don’t say this to defend her. I say this because I see how much it hurts you.”

“My sister is gone, Rafael.” She shakes her head. “Maybe she sold her soul to the devil to survive.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No. I did the same.” She pulls away from me, pressing herself against the door. That impenetrable bubble falls around her again, leaving me on the outside, an observer looking in. I don’t think I can fix this. I was so scared that the Russians would break her, steal her from me, but it seems the real threat was a lot closer to home. Her own sister.

“Give it time, avecita.” I don’t know what else to say to her. Nothing will make it any better.

* * *

The sun beats down on my back as I step up to the front of the bar. Two of Ricardo’s armed men open the double doors in front of us, and I squeeze Anna’s hand as I move inside. Carlos is on her other side, and I’m grateful for his presence. Having her with me like this, only highlights how weak I am for her, but what else am I supposed to do? The thought of leaving her, of having her away from me… I’d kill Ricardo and all his men just to be done with it and get back to her. As it is, I’ve put this meeting off for a month because I couldn’t leave her.

Ricardo is leaned over a pool table—cue in hand as he takes a shot. The bar is filled with heavy smoke that hangs in the air in thick swirls. The scent of beer and cigarettes is all I can smell. Ricardo pockets a ball and stands up, his gaze swinging to me.

“Ah, Rafael.” His shoulders are rigid, his posture tense.

“Ricardo.” I force myself to paint the picture of casual calm, pulling out a chair for Anna at the bar before taking a seat next to her. The barman places a bottle of beer in front of me, and I take it, tipping the cold glass back against my lips.

“It seems we have a problem,” Ricardo says, leaning against the bar next to me.

“Problem? No.”

He narrows his eyes. “You are reneging on your deal, are you not?”

I turn on the stool to face him fully. “The message relayed was that there would be a delay on you using my port, was it not?”

His jaw ticks. “You made a deal with the Russians.”

“Tsk, tsk. Where did you hear that?” He says nothing.

“You would deal with the Russians?” He spits on the floor, anger permeating every inch of his body. “For a girl.” He shakes his head. “You are on the cusp of war with the Sinaloa and now this?”

My temper rattles against the tight restraints I’ve placed on it. “I’d be careful listening to Dominges. After all, he is in bed with the Russians.” There’s a beat, a moment of hesitation in his eyes, and I see it. “My fight is with him and him alone.”

“Have you made a deal with them?”

I take a cigar from my pocket. “Of sorts.” I place the cigar to my lips and light it, inhaling a deep breath.

“Well then, it seems you are the one not to be trusted.”

My fists tighten, and he catches the movement. Anna’s small hand lands on my back. “It’s my fault,” she says. I close my eyes for a second, gritting my teeth. What the fuck is she doing? “Rafael is handling it. Just give him a little time.”

He glares at her and then back at me. “How much time?”

“I don’t know. But as soon as I get it sorted, our deal will resume. And I’ll drop my cut.”

He shakes his head. “This is bad business, Rafael.” Don’t I know it.

“Who would you rather get in bed with, me or Dominges?”

“He hasn’t let me down. I don’t appreciate these kinds of setbacks.”

“I tell you what. You keep supplying him until such time as I can let you use the docks again.”

He blows out a long breath. “If you allow the Russians into Mexico, you’re going to have much bigger problems than just me or Dominges,” he growls. “You risk provoking every cartel in the country.”

“It won’t come to that.” The problem is, I can’t possibly know that because I have no plan whatsoever at this point. I just know that I cannot allow Nicholai Ivanov to use that port because half the drug lords in Mexico will be gunning for me. Russians are like the anti-Christ around here. I won’t put Anna in that kind of danger. I won’t risk my cartel, my family.

Ricardo nods. “I won’t wait forever, Rafael. I expect this deal to be upheld.”

I flick my cigar into the ashtray and stand up, smoothing a hand down the front of my jacket. “And it will be. Have patience, and remember whose alliance would serve you best.”

I take Anna’s hand and pull her tight to my side before turning and heading for the door. Carlos lingers behind, watching our backs as we make our way out of the bar. As soon as we’re in the car, I drag a hand through my hair.

“Fuck!”

Carlos slips behind the wheel, pulling away from the bar. Anna sits beside me, fidgeting.

“You can fix it though, right?” she asks. I glance at her. I made a deal to save her. The only deal Nicholai Ivanov was ever going to take. I don’t regret it for a second, but now I have to figure out how to roll the dice in my favor and get everything I want. I need my cartel, and I need her. I can’t sacrifice one for the other. I won’t. I have to win this.

“Honestly?” I turn to her. “I don’t know. I can’t stand against Nicholai without great losses.” And I’d likely lose anyway. I have an army of sorts, but he has an army of Elite. We’re not even on the same playing field.

Her brows pull together, and she nods slowly. “And the other cartels will rise if you continue to allow him to use the port?”

I nod. “The Russians hold too much power. If we give them any kind of hold here, they’ll take our business, overthrow cartels… we can’t allow it.” She gnaws on her bottom lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Reaching out, I grip her chin and pull her bottom lip free. “This isn’t your problem, avecita. Don’t stress. I’ll sort it.”

“How can it not be my problem? You’re in this situation because of me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You traded your port for me…”

“Which was my choice, not yours.”

She closes her eyes and releases a slow breath. “What if…” Her eyes flash open, and she hesitates, her lips parted around her next words. “What if I were to…go away for a little while?”

Tension cuts through the car and Carlos clears his throat uncomfortably. “No.”

“Rafe, it wouldn’t be forever. You need to handle this, and me being here isn’t helping. If I go, you have no weakness, right?”

“I said no.”

Her small hand slides over my cheek, and she pulls my face to hers. “This is exactly why I should go—because you don’t want me to.”

I fist her hair and pull her closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her, basking in her inherent warmth that heats me to my very soul. She grounds me. I feel like I could take on the world with her at my side. “And this is exactly why you shouldn’t. Just let me keep you, okay?”

She sighs, scratching her nails over the stubble of my jaw. “We’re going to crash and burn, Rafe.”

“Maybe.” At this point, I’m not sure I care as long as I have her. It’s hard to remember that there are other people I have loyalty to; that I can’t just fuck it all because I have her. I want to though. I want to fucking take her as far away from this as I can and never look back. But we can’t deny who or what we are.