A hard gasp shoots out of me.

My eyes pop open, and I pant heavily, looking all around me. The space I’m in is familiar. Ivory leather. A sweet, cinnamon scent. I’m strapped into my seat. I’m on the jet again?

I’m still wearing the pink gown, but with a trench coat covering it. My lips feel numb. My body is tingling. I can’t get a good grasp on my breathing.

My eyes sting, tears blurring my vision, but then something catches my eye from the left.

No, someone.

Emilio is standing there. He’s been standing there this entire time.

“Emilio,” I breathe. “W-what the hell is going on? Why am I on the jet again?”

His face is sullen, and I see the guilt in his eyes. Though I ask in English, its like he can still understand my question.

“You put something in my drink, didn’t you!” I shout in the language he can understand.

“I didn’t put a thing in there, Patrona.”

“Then who did?” I demand, eyes still burning

He sighs. “I think you already know who did.”

“Draco?” I whisper, and he immediately pulls his gaze away. He turns his back to me and walks to the recliners behind him. With wide eyes, I slouch back in my chair, staring down at my lap. My heart is galloping in my chest, my palms sweaty. Sweat has even beaded up on my forehead and above my upper lip.

Despite it all, I stand up, focusing on Emilio. “Take me back to him. Now!”

His lips smash together. “You know I can’t do that.” He looks me over. “Please sit, Patrona. There is something he wants me to give to you.”

I look at him sideways, eyes shifting over to the windows. Surrounded by clouds. Up in the sky. Something tells me it’s too late to do anything.

With a hard sigh, I finally sit, and Emilio takes the seat across from me and leans forward. He extends his arm, holding out something in his hand. A cellphone. I glare down at it warily, taking notice of the folder in his other hand.

“Jefe wants me to make sure you listen to this before you land,” he says softly.

“What is it?” I ask, voice dry, thick.

He sighs, making the screen light up and unlocking it. He scrolls through and then stops, handing it to me with the screen up.

It’s showing the voice recordings. With a tilted brow, I take it, eyeing him briefly before looking down at it.

There are four recordings on here.

Emilio stands, handing me the manila folder. I blink up at him, taking it and placing it on my lap. “I’ll let you have your privacy,” he says softly.

I swallow hard, but my throat is still dry, desperate for moisture. I’m too anxious to hold off on listening to these. I press play on the first recording, and Draco’s voice fills the small space around me.

“Gianna Natalia Nicotera.” He sighs, long and hard. “You are confused. Angry. Probably downright pissed. I don’t expect you not to be. You’re wondering what happened, and why I did it. Well, I’ll tell you what I did. I dropped a small dosage of rohypnol in the champagne, enough to keep you barely conscious. You probably don’t remember what happened after you drank it. I really wish you wouldn’t remember any of the events that happened before this.” His voice breaks a little, just barely. But I can hear it. I can hear the agony in his voice, how much this is hurting him, and my throat thickens, chest heavier now.

“I am not a good man, Gianna. I am a fucked-up man. I sell drugs and kill for a living, and I consider that the norm. I’ve punished women and never gave it a second thought—not until you.” When he says that, my heart beats faster. The recording ends so I go to the next.

“There is one thing I wish, and that is me wishing I had never ordered my men to take you that day. I think having you killed would have been better, because even as I record this message, I am fucking torn. I am torn between doing the right thing—which is sending you away from danger—and keeping you here with me and risking everything I have worked so hard for. If I had kept you around, it would have cost me. They know who my heart beats for now. She knows the great lengths to which I will go to keep you safe…and because of that, I couldn’t let you stay. You are a liability to me, Gianna. Yes, you broke my heart, and yes, I trusted you, and you betrayed me, but despite all of it, I love you so much, and I don’t think that will ever change.”

A tear escapes me, but I swipe at it quickly, holding the phone tighter, clicking the next recording.

“You’re wondering where you will go. Don’t worry. You’ll be with family—family that I know you trust, not the motherfuckers that will try to marry you off to a worthless family to rebuild the Nicotera name.” He pauses. “Open the folder Emilio gave to you.” I place the phone on the arm of the recliner, opening the folder.

I frown a little as I flip through them realizing all of the images are of me. They each have time stamps on them, some going way back to when I was first taken. Some are in color and some are in black and white. There is one with me on the beach. One of me at the pool. One of me eating breakfast with Mrs. Molina and laughing.

There is even one of me sleeping in Draco’s bed in only my panties, no bra, the sheets halfway across the backs of my thighs. I question if he took these images or if someone else did. But he would never let anyone get that close while I was naked and vulnerable this way. It had to be him.

“I sent these images and more to your family to let them know you’re safe. All but that last image anyway. I sent a new image to them every single week to let them know you were still alive and well. That you would stay well, as long as they didn’t come looking for you. I threatened that if they did come looking, or if I found out they hired someone to come for you, I would kill you.” He blows a heavy breath. “I wouldn’t have killed you,” he murmurs, and I sigh in relief. He knows me too well.

“You may not understand at first, but I’m not doing this for myself, Gianna. I’m doing this for you. I don’t give a fuck about this life anymore. I don’t give a damn about running this empire, but my pride will not allow it to fall that easily. I refuse to let that bitch win. The truth is, I wanted to run away with you—to a private island I bought—and fucking marry you. I wanted to have a child with you. I wanted to create an entire fucking life with you. These thoughts alone make me feel pathetic, but I don’t fucking care because it’s what I want, and it is the truth. I wanted to make you my fucking world. But at the end of the day, my reality is this: being El Jefe. All of the world should know that I am not to be fucked with. And that’s why Hernandez has to die. But I cannot go after her with you around. Your family will protect you. You’re probably out of the country by now. Your familia will be waiting on a private runway. They will pick you up, and they will most likely try to ensure that you never see or hear from me again.”

My heart breaks when those words run through my ears. Never see him again?

I play the final message.

“Even if I die—even if I lose everything in the process—it will not matter. You will be safe. I will make sure all of your threats have vanished. You will no longer have to worry about watching your back in this world. You will finally be free. You’re probably wondering why I couldn’t tell you this face-to-face. I just…couldn’t. I am no coward. I am known for facing my issues and handling them like a man. But you are an issue I can no longer face. You are my heart. And I cannot say goodbye to you.”

I break down without even letting all of his words sink in. The tears have completely blinded me, but his voice continues, making me weak, each word crippling my heart.

“Yo no soy un buen hombre,” he whispers, voice cracking, breaking. I am not a good man. “I wish I was, for you, but I will never be good. I sometimes wish I was still the little boy who saw you and fell hard for your big, green eyes. I wish I was still that innocent kid who had a raging crush on you—the kid who didn’t give a damn about the guns, the drugs, the cartel, or any of this cruel, vile shit. The kid who made a simple promise to marry you. Cherish you. Protect you. Be good to you. But I cannot be that man. I am broken and cruel. I am corrupt and I enjoy all of this more than I care to admit. I thought I was heartless, but having you around proved me wrong.” He pauses. “I see now that in order to live this life, sacrifices must be made. So this is my sacrifice. I am letting you go. Not for my sake, but for yours. I have only caused you misery and pain, but you, mi reina, deserve to be happy…even if some of the things you have done may have just cost me my life.”

Those are his final words.

This is his goodbye?

I can’t accept it.

I feel the same way. I have only caused him misery and suffering. I am the reason he will lose everything.

I have been a burden all along, and he knew that, yet he still dared to love me.

He risked his life the moment he decided to give his heart to me.