The flight becomes rocky minutes after Emilio announces we will be landing soon. Fortunately, the landing smooths out when the wheels of the jet touch the ground.

The jet drifts along for two more minutes while I stare out of the window, at the mountains and the silky, blue sky.

I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I can’t be with family again after being around Draco for so long. He should know this. It won’t be the same as before. A normal life doesn’t suit me anymore—not after everything I have gone through while in his hands.

The only family I had left that I know of—and that I trust enough not to try and marry me off—is my dad’s brother, Uncle Jack, and his wife, Aunt Minnie. They have two kids, from what I can remember, Clark and Jennifer, but we were so young the last time we saw one another that they probably don’t even remember me.

Uncle Jack and Aunt Minnie didn’t attend my wedding. They’d made up an excuse about how they didn’t like to travel that far, but something deep in my gut tells me now that they just didn’t like Toni.

I remember Uncle Jack coming around, but never directly speaking to Toni. Uncle Jack had even dropped out of my dad’s business when he saw Toni getting higher rank, but he still ran his own business, which still required security guards.

Daddy has another brother, and a sister.

My uncle Ken will try to marry me off.

My aunt Natasha will try to marry me off, too.

Even my grandmother Veronica, will try to marry me off—all for the money. All because they know how much I am worth, and that the vilest men in his world will pay a pretty penny, just to get me pregnant and weave our bloodlines.

Dad never trusted any of them but Uncle Jack. Yes, he had Ken working for him, but it was always at a distance. Ken never sat at my dad’s table. He always kept me close and kept them at arms length. The only time we would all get together was for every other Thanksgiving or Christmas, and even then, Daddy always went with two guns, three knives and two of his best guards.

The jet finally comes to a stop, and as soon as it does, Emilio is standing and reaching into the bin above his head. He takes down two magenta suitcases and then looks at me.

“Are you ready, Patrona?”

Pressing my lips, I unclip my seatbelt and stand. No, I’m not ready. No, I don’t want to go. But I know I have no choice. He won’t let me stay. If I had a gun, I’d put it to his and the pilot’s heads and demand they return me to him.

But I don’t.

So I go.

Just as I start to follow after Emilio, I see a black SUV pull closer to the jet. A man in a navy blue suit steps out, sunglasses covering his eyes. He walks in front of the truck with his arms crossed in front of him.

I frown a bit. He’s unfamiliar to me.

Emilio sees him too and places the suitcases down before he exits the jet. As he walks down the stairs, I see him draw a black handgun on the way. I rush to the window, watching as he holds it at his side. The man standing in front of the SUV immediately draws his when he spots it.

Emilio says something, and the man answers, and then the man steps around to the back door, pulling it open. A tall, familiar man with a thick, brown beard steps out. He looks much different than the last time I saw him—then again, the last time I saw him, I was fifteen years old.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket, a collared gray shirt beneath it. He shuts the door behind him and walks toward Emilio, taking out his wallet and showing him his credentials.

Relief washes over me, only a small ounce. That’s him. Uncle Jack. He looks different, like he’s gained a few pounds, but in a healthy way. His brown hair is longer, curling behind his ears, and his smile is just as charming as he assures Emilio everything is alright.

Seeing it soothes the storm brewing inside me.

After Emilio reads over his information, he nods and hands it back, then turns for the jet again. He hustles back up the stairs and I ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Great, Patrona. Come with me.” He grabs the suitcases and walks back down. I follow him out, surprised at how chilly it is. I’m only wearing a trench coat over a nightgown, and a pair of flip-flops. As I walk down, I see snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Where the hell are we?

I make it down the final step, and Uncle Jack steps forward, smiling broadly—until he notices what I’m wearing. His smile collapses, but he opens his arms, and I walk into them, wishing I was happier than I am in this moment.

Months ago I would have been eager and ready to walk into his arms—ready to be around anyone who wasn’t Draco—but now…it’s a hollow victory.

“He kept his word,” he sighs.

“Who?” I ask, looking up at him.

“The man who held you captive. The Jefe.” He frowns a bit. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” I tell him, shivering.

He notices and then looks me up and down. “Come on, let’s get you to the truck where it’s warm.” He starts to escort me that way, but I pause, looking back at Emilio.

“It was a pleasure serving you, Patrona,” he murmurs in Spanish, smiling softly. And I don’t know what it is about his words, but it hurts my heart to hear them. Tears prick my eyes, but I nod quickly and pull away, walking to the truck with Uncle Jack.

I slide across the bench to the other side, not without noticing Emilio handing the suitcases to Uncle Jack’s driver.

As soon as it’s done, Emilio turns, pulls out his cellphone, and walks back on the jet.

It takes everything in me not to bawl where I sit. I can’t cry. I’m assuming Draco wants them to still be intimidated—to still think he’s dangerous and ruthless. He doesn’t want his reputation ruined by me. He doesn’t want them to know he is soft and that by sending me here, he was doing them and me a favor.

He never would have killed me…but they don’t know that. To them, he showed mercy. They got lucky, and only because he respected my father.

“Did he not tell you where we live?” Uncle Jack asks me when his door is shut.

“No.” My teeth are chattering. I rub my hands over the arms of my jacket to warm myself. Uncle Jack cranks up the heat using the knobs above. “Where are we?”

“Colorado. Estes Park, to be exact.”

“You didn’t live here before.”

“No, I didn’t. We moved here a while ago, right after Lion passed away. It’s quieter here. Safer.”

I drop my head. “Oh.”

I can still feel him looking at me. I can’t look him in the eyes right now. Not right now. I drop my arms and squeeze my fingers. “You weren’t at the vigil I planned for him.”

“I wanted to be.”

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Because I was out looking for the man who murdered him.”

I look up into his eyes. They are so similar to Daddy’s, bold and green. “Any luck?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know who it was. The Jefe told me who when he sent me notification that you would be flying back.”

My throat becomes dry and scratchy. “Oh. He told me, too.”

“I’m glad he killed the son-of-a-bitch. If I’d known sooner, I would have strangled him at the funeral. A final favor for my brother.”

The driver climbs into the car and puts it in reverse. As he rolls backwards, I stare ahead at the jet, hating each inch he’s putting between it and us. He finally veers right, puts the car in gear, and drives away. I stop staring when I can no longer see it.

“I’m glad he killed him, too.”

Uncle Jack grunts, shifting in his seat. He pulls out a cellphone but before he dials, he looks at me. “You sure he didn’t hurt you?” He eyes my wrists, the scars from the ropes still visible. I rub them, remembering how raw they felt. How tender. How much I hated him then.

“He didn’t hurt me much.” Not as much as I hurt him.

“Well, I am glad we have you back, Gia. We tried to do everything we could to look for you, but after a while, he became hostile—made threats that he’d kill you and record, it just to prove to us that he didn’t fuck around and didn’t want you to be found. I think he realized how close we’d gotten to him at one point, and it made him angrier.” He sighs, running a hand across his face. “I’m truly surprised you are still alive.”

“He was close to Daddy. He had too much respect for him to kill me.”

“I know he was, but he is still a cruel man. He is, and so was his father. The Molinas cannot be trusted. I don’t know what your father saw in them.” He brings the phone up to his ear. “Calling your Aunt Minnie. She’s preparing a big, hot dinner for you. You’ll love it.”

I press my lips, forcing a smile at him. He returns a full, genuine one. I know I should be grateful for what he’s doing—taking me in, possibly even risking his life without even knowing it—but how am I supposed to be grateful for something I don’t even want?

I don’t want to be here with him.

I want to be back with Draco.

I want to help.

I want to fight.

I want to be there for him, every step of the way.

But he needs space. He needs time away from me.

And I get it, because I really, really fucked up.