51. Antonio

It’s been days since I’ve given my company any thought. Other than locating my mother’s remains, I haven’t thought about a goddamn thing—except Daniela.

When all hope of finding anyone alive evaporated, I allowed my mind to wander to thoughts of her. When the pain and guilt ate at me, I found comfort, imagining my body curled around hers, in a peaceful sleep.

As much as I don’t want her here, it feels so damn good to hold her. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything in days. Orange blossom and goodness drowns the smell of weathered planks and seawater. I shovel it in, like a starving man.

She’s shivering.I pull her away from the edge of the barge, to a bench where I sit when I’m tired of standing. It’s protected from the wind.

She looks small and vulnerable, and even though she came to take care of me, I have an overwhelming urge to take care of her. I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders before I sit beside her.

“How’s Valentina?” I ask, not that I have the gumption to care about much right now, but because it’s what a decent human being would do.

“She’s busy with school. But she misses you, and asked me to give you a big hug and a kiss with warm lips.”

I miss her, too, but I don’t say it. “Valentina and Rafael could have easily been on that plane.” It’s been clawing at me since I boarded the aircraft in Porto. When I think about it, I can barely breathe.

She sighs deeply and takes my hand. I’m sure she’s thought a lot about it in the last ten days, too.

“But they weren’t.”

“This time.”

I feel the familiar rumble of fury, as it barrels its way in. It’s not helpful, but it’s such an improvement over despair.

“Your mother loved you. You were a wonderful son. You did everything in your power to protect her.”

“That’s a lie!” I spit out, foaming at the mouth. “She did everything in her power to protect me. That’s the goddamn truth.”

“Antonio.” Daniela doesn’t shrink. She lays her head on my shoulder and slips her arm through mine. “I know it’s a lot to ask right now, but don’t judge yourself so harshly. No one blames you for what happened. Please don’t blame yourself.”

I don’t give a shit what other people think. This was my fault. I think back to the day I visited my uncle after his stroke. How sanctimonious I was with Tomas. Belittling him for allowing the monsters to murder his mother.

“It was your fucking job to protect her,” I barked. “There’s a special place in hell for men like you. Men who fail to protect the women who are important to them. She gave you life. I don’t know how you live with yourself.”

The rage is swirling, knocking away any remnants of numbness. My mother didn’t just give me life. She protected me with her own life.I should have protected her with mine.

“Instead of talking to the voices in your head, talk to me,” Daniela urges.

“I highly doubt you want to hear my thoughts.” The stark reality of who I am, and what I’m capable of, will only create a fissure between us. Even if it heals, there will be an ugly scar.

But maybe it’s better if she learns the truth. She should know exactly who she’s dealing with so she doesn’t end up on the bottom of the ocean, too.

“When I was away at school, I got a call from Victor. It was almost thirteen years ago, now. He never called. But he was worried because my father was spinning more and more out of control, and Victor was afraid he was going to kill my mother.”

I fist my hand into a tight ball, but Daniela pries my hand open and laces her fingers tightly through mine.

I don’t deserve this woman. Maybe when I’m done, she’ll know it, too.

“I took the next flight out, and when I arrived home, my mother was in bed. Contusions all over. Cracked ribs. A broken arm. A fractured jaw. You name it. The doctor had given her pain medicine at the hospital, and she was asleep. Alma sat by her bed. Watching over her in case Hugo came back for another round.”

I remember the day like it was yesterday. My mother’s motionless body, the scent of lavender room spray that Alma spritzed to mask the medicinal smell of bandages and antiseptic creams—and the dried blood that hides for days before you notice it.

“I was in a blinding fury. Furious with my father for what he’d done, and furious at my mother for going back to him. I’d begged her to stay with your family until I came home after the semester. But she didn’t.”

I squeeze Daniela’s hand so tight she winces. “Do you know why?”

She shakes her head. “Tell me.”

“Because the sonofabitch threatened to kill me if she didn’t come home. I was her weakness.” From the moment I was born.

“She never said a word about it to me. She never confided it in anyone but Alma.”

I pause for a moment, deciding whether to tell her the rest and risk any hope we have for a future.

Don’t hold back.Let her see you for what you are. Maybe she’ll walk away. She’ll be safer without you. If she doesn’t do it on her own, you’ll have to send her away. You know that. But maybe you’re no better than Tomas in that regard. Do you have the balls to do what it takes to protect her?

I do. I would do anything for her.

“In a rage,” I continue, “I searched for my father. I found him in his office in the vineyards, with a bottle of moonshine. It was his favorite spot to go after he delivered a beating.”

I can still taste the hatred. Still see his smug face, as though beating the shit out of a defenseless woman, his wife, was some great accomplishment.

“We didn’t exchange words. I lunged at him, grabbed him by the throat, and squeezed until he turned purple, eyes bulging.” Occasionally, I remember his face before he went limp. But never with regret. “I didn’t heed his pleas. I reveled in his gasps for air.”

Except for drawing a shaky breath, Daniela doesn’t react.

Not yet. She’s fiercely loyal, and protective of me. I’m going to have to do something reprehensible if I want to push her away. I can’t think about it now. It’ll have to wait until we’re home.

I drape my arm around her shoulder and bring her closer. I need her closer.

“What happened?” she urges.

“Your father came in while I had my hands around Hugo’s neck. He pulled me away, but it was too late.”

She draws back, as though sensing this is connected to her story, too. And in a way, it is.

“Why was my father there?” she asks. But she knows the answer. Even if Daniela hasn’t put together all the pieces, she’s shrewd, and she knows how it works in our world.

“At the time, I didn’t know why your father was there—and I didn’t think much of it. Later, I assumed he came to tell my mother that Maria Rosa had died. That’s what I believed—until recently. Until you told me about what happened in the meadow—how my family tortured you and your mother. Since then, my thinking has changed.”

“How so?” she asks warily, searching my face as I try to piece together the events for her.

“According to what you’ve said, Manuel believed—rightfully so—that Hugo was the ringleader. I’m sure he came to kill my father for what he’d done.”

Daniela wraps my jacket tighter. She’s quiet, but I feel her mind churning.

“Within an hour of Hugo’s death, your father made a couple of phone calls and had me on a private plane out of Porto. ‘Do not tell anyone you were here,’ he cautioned. Although several people who worked for my parents had seen me, including Victor and Alma.”

This is a lot to process, and I see the uneasiness in her face.

“Your father, with all that he was dealing with, cleaned up my mess that day. Hugo had a lot of enemies, but he had a lot of power, too. Some unethical but important people benefited from his corruption. If not for your father, I would have spent the rest of my life in prison. If not worse. I owed him my life.”

“That’s why you agreed to marry me.”

The emotion vibrates from every syllable. It’s not a question, but it begs a response. I won’t lie to her.

“Yes. It’s why I agreed initially, and why I would have agreed even if I knew what my family had done. Your father knew what I owed him—that’s why I still don’t understand why he didn’t tell me everything. It would have saved a lot of heartache—for you.”

Daniela’s shoulders are hunched and her head down, as she clasps her hands in her lap.

“I’m not leaving without my mother’s remains. I want to take her back to Porto and bury her in a beautiful spot, under a flowering tree. It’s the best I can do for her now.”

I slam my fist on the bench. “She’s gone, Daniela, and you’re next. This is how they’re going to destroy me.”

“I’ve always known that our marriage wasn’t made on love,” she says softly, after long moments pass. “But I love you now, and I believe with all my heart that you love me.”

She latches onto my shirt front with both hands. “Do you really want to protect me? Because out here, like this, you’re no good to anyone.”

I believe that I still have something to offer my employees, and the people of the valley who depend on me to lead them to prosperity. But I’m not sure anymore that I have anything to offer her that outweighs the danger I bring to her life.

“You’re safer without me.”

“I don’t believe that. Neither do you. And even if it were true, I’d take my chances.”

You’re a fool, Princesa. There is no fairy tale. It’s all smoke and mirrors, and then you die.