Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Renata

My family really could've invested more in this godawful safe house. The floors are dirty, the light dim. The silhouette of tired, well-worn furniture shoved into a corner gives the whole place a dismal appearance. Rain tapping against the window only makes it worse.

I love my homeland, but right now, I'd give anything to be back at the Romanovs. I've longed to escape the ties to my family, to find freedom. But that dream is a nightmare and freedom just another word for survival.

Still, I sit upright in the chair I'm bound to and ignore the gnawing hunger in my belly and the stitch in my side from sitting here for so long.

He's coming. I know he's fucking coming. There's a reason I've been brought here, and everything in me knows why.

My brother is not dead.

I knew it was too good to be true, and I knew it was a lie because I felt no sense of relief. Only wariness and a deep, dark knowing that comes from sharing some part of the man's DNA.

And now, I'll wait until he comes to do whatever the fuck he plans on doing to me. I betrayed the Los Sangre Dorada. My brother must know that by now. My life is forfeit for what I've done.

Jesus.

The hefty old man with nasty garlic breath and rough hands, who dragged me here straight from the damn plane, chuckles mercilessly in the dim shadows. "He's coming," he taunts me. "You are in so much trouble."

I toss my head and pretend I don't hear him.

But I can't stop the way my skin crawls and the little hairs on the back of my neck stand. I hate how my heartbeat races on as if I'm being chased by an axe murderer.

I'd rather face a murderer than my brother.

Footsteps sound outside.

My heart pounds. I grit my teeth.

The door opens, and four masked men enter the room, each holding a gun by his side, all of them in strict military formation. And behind them, prowling like an angry, hungry lion, stalks Carlos Carerra himself.

Dressed in black, utilitarian clothing, he walks in with a familiar scowl and a newly adopted air of authority. I stifle a snort. Javier Morales, his former boss, is dead, which is the only reason he struts around like he's hot shit.

A lamp flickers on a bedside table as one of the masked men takes a chair and plunks it on the floor in front of me. But Carlos doesn't sit.

Holding my gaze, Carlos stands over me, his presence menacing. He wants me sweating. He wants me shaking.

I can't help it. I'm doing both, and I hate myself for it.

" Hola, little sister," he says, his voice cold and calculating. He leans down and brushes his thumb across the bruise on my cheek. I stifle a wince, but he notices. "Who did this to you?"

I jerk my chin at the hefty man sitting next to me.

"Such sloppy work," Carlos says. "This is the best you could do? You took a traitor here for questioning, and this is the best you could do? She isn't even bleeding." Shaking his head, he casually pulls a handgun from a holster at his side.

"Please, sir! I'll do better!" The man's eyes are wide, his hands spread, pleading. "Give me another?—"

Boom.

I scream when the bullet lands right between the man's eyes. Blood pours from the wound as his heavy body falls to the ground, lifeless. I bite my lip until I taste metal on my tongue to stop myself from screaming, but my scream ends in a whimper.

"She's a traitor," Carlos says, reaching for me. I flinch, but I can't get away from him. Even if I wasn't tied to this chair, he's bigger and stronger than I am. I know that from personal experience.

He fists my hair and yanks my head back.

"If I send you to bring back a traitor, man or woman, and I tell you to punish them, I mean you fucking punish them," Carlos snarls. In one swift motion, he draws his hand back and slaps me, hard, across the face. Tears spring to my eyes, and my head jerks to the side. He slaps the other cheek. I cry out in pain. My jaw vibrates from the impact, my skin on fire.

He reaches for my chin and grabs it, appraising his work. "There. That's a bit better," he snarls, showcasing yellowed teeth.

My best friend Isabella always hated Carlos, and for good reason. She called him "homely and ugly," and she was right. "Too bad you got all the beauty genes," she said once. "Maybe that's why he's so grumpy all the time. It must hurt walking around looking like that."

But I know better. Carlos looks like evil incarnate because he is. The ugliness in his face is only a reflection of his heart.

"I'll take it easy on you this time, little sister, because I need you. And when I send you back to lover boy, things might get complicated if you have any broken bones."

Oh no. Oh God.

Lover boy? My heart beats so fast I'm sick to my stomach.

Now I know why it was so easy for Isabella to kill her brother, Javier. If I had a weapon and half a second, I'd pull the trigger so damn fast. I hate this man in front of me. The boy I grew up with, my brother, who was my confidant and partner in crime, is gone. I barely recognize this monster.

"Don't even think about lying to me, Renata. I know. I had eyes on you every minute you spent in New York. It's why I knew you were a traitor. I didn't miss the way you look at him. I saw the way you fell for him. I know."

God, how does he know? And how will I ever escape from this?

"So I'm going to make a deal with you." He sits in the chair and leans forward, his arms resting on his knees, his soulless eyes boring into mine.

He won't defeat you.

He won't.

I have to stay strong. I have to keep my head on straight. So what if he knows I fell for Ollie Romanov? So what if that's why he took me back here?

Still… what does he hope to gain from having me here?

He hasn't killed me because he needs something.

What?

Carlos presses his thumb to my throbbing cheek. My pulse threatens to choke me, but I don't move. He leans closer, his voice cold and cruel. "This is what you'll do. You're going back to your precious Romanovs in The Cove. They'll likely brutally punish you themselves, thinking you betrayed them, but the poor fools won't even know the half of it." He shakes his head. "You'll pretend I don't exist. You'll pretend you wanted to confirm my death here in Columbia, and you did."

My pulse is racing so quickly that I can hardly hear from the pounding in my ears.

I glare at Carlos, my cheek throbbing and my eyes watery. But my voice is steady and filled with resolve. "You underestimate me, Carlos. I won't let you use me like this."

Carlos leans in closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Oh, but you will. Because if you tell them anything… anything about me at all, I will murder the man you love in front of you."

One thing I've always been exceptionally good at was knowing when someone was lying. My mother used to call it my superpower. I was so skilled at it in fact, my father would call me into meetings with his friends and show me off like a circus act. People I knew would eventually learn that lying to me never worked. I knew there was no Santa Claus before I went to school, and I knew the truth about the birds and the bees much earlier than a child ever should as a result of this strange but undeniable talent.

And one thing I know for absolute certain: Carlos isn't lying.

My jaw drops. I quickly close it, but it's too late. He saw my reaction. I know he thinks he struck a bullseye when his eyes light up.

"I don't love anybody," I lie through gritted teeth. I'm an outsider in every world I've ever touched... at least they think I am. The daughter who betrayed her family, the lover who deceived her allies, the sister who let the devil take root in her own flesh and blood. My only home is a prison of my own making.

He shakes his head and laughs maniacally. It chills me. "I watched the way your eyes light up when he walks into a room. I saw the way you pined for him when he's not there. I heard you ask for him. I saw you stare after him." He spits on the floor. "You're in love with a fucking Russian pig. Father would've killed you for less."

Also not a lie.

I look away, caught between the knowledge that he's found me out and the ultimatum he's issued.

Everyone will think I'm a liar.

Isabella. Her husband, Lev.

Ollie.

I close my eyes against another rush of emotions.

Carlos is cold and cruel, a vivid reminder of the brother I once loved, but another beast waits for me…one whose darkness I fear just as much as I crave. He'll find me.

I have to escape and leave all of them. I have to find a way out of here.

I have to start over.

All over.

There's no going back, no safe harbor. All I can do is run until there's nothing left of the girl I once was.

I reach a tentative hand to my cheek and work my jaw. Not broken. Good. It'll mend.

"You will find out what they know and report back to me. And when you are done—when you've done everything I've said here, we'll take the next step." He smiles. My stomach swirls with nausea. "I may even forgive you."

Lie.

He won't. Forgiveness to him is as foreign as kindness. He'd have to have a heart.

"And if I don't?" I ask. I want to know where I stand. I like it better that way and always have.

The men behind me make sounds of disbelief. Even Carlos needs a minute. He blinks in surprise. It feels a bit victorious.

"If you don't, I'll kill him first and make you watch, little sister, before you join him."

Little sister. It hurts worse than when he hit me.

A pang hits my heart when he calls me that. I remember being only three years old, cowering in fear in my father's study. I'd broken his prized possession, a hideous bookend his father carved into the shape of a serpent with a thick square base. I knew I'd get the belt for that. I wasn't allowed in his study.

Carlos saw me, his eyes wide in surprise when he found me crying in the study just moments before my father came home. I told him what happened in a rush of words seconds before my father came in.

He didn't even hesitate but spun on his heels and took the blame. "I'm sorry!" he said to my father. "It was an accident." I wept as he took the punishment meant for me, without a whimper, without a tear, and later nursed his wounds.

What happened to the brother who defended me? My father planted the seeds. Power and greed are insidious beasts that can destroy a man's heart. I blink, and a tear rolls down my cheek.

I can't help but pitch a final plea to the brother I once knew. "What happened to you, Carlos? We used to be friends. We used to love each other."

A flicker of something like humanity crosses his features but quickly evaporates. He laughs and shakes his head. "I grew up, Renata."

I stare at the lifeless body of the man on the floor, killed for not hitting me harder. I stare at my brother's cruel face, twisted in hatred and anger. I swallow hard.

"I'll do what you ask," I tell him. "But if you touch one hair on his head, I will kill you myself."

Carlos nods as if satisfied with my response. "There it is. The hint of Carerra blood you've kept buried under all those lies and deception." He shakes his head. "We'll meet again, Renata. Remember, I have eyes on you. Not a word to anyone about me. I'm dead to all the world. You know what will happen if you betray me again."

I wish he were dead. God, I wish he were dead.

I'll do what he tells me, but not for him. I'll play his game, because if I don't, Ollie will pay the price. But I swear to fucking God, when the time comes, it will be Carlos who bleeds.

He jerks his chin at me. "Take her. No more bruises, not today." I release a shaky breath. "Leave her on the street, crying for mercy. The American is here. He'll find her. Let him." His face twists in a cruel sneer. "Then leave the rest for me."

The American is here.

He's here.

And he thinks I betrayed them. For the first time in my entire life, I'm tempted to end it all. The crushing weight feels like too much.

"Remember, Renata. If you ever tell them, if I catch even the slightest hint that you've betrayed me, he'll die first. Then you."

No. I will never give up this one life I have to live for anyone.

I'll get away. I'll escape. I'll leave who I am behind and start all over, where no one will ever find me.

Carlos stands, and his men snap to attention. He jerks his chin at the one in front, who comes to stand in front of me.

"On second thought," Carlos says. "A little more blood might do well." He lifts his hand to strike me. I wince and brace for the blow I can't deflect, but it doesn't come. I'm gasping for breath and confused when I hear a loud thump. I look to find Carlos standing in front of me, the masked man's hand blocking Carlos from striking me. I notice a small scar on the inside of the man's wrist.

He speaks in rapid Spanish with confidence. He just watched a man die for not hitting me hard enough and had the audacity to block Carlos? "I'm sorry, sir. You should leave her, sir. It will make your story more credible. If she's beaten too badly, they might suspect a setup."

I hold my breath.

With a snarl, he shoves the guard, who topples into me.

"Fine. Get the bitch out of here. We don't have time for any more bullshit." I blink in surprise. One of his men defended me, and he… allowed it? Is there a shred of humanity left in him? Did my plea change him, or is he just wildly inconsistent?

I'll remember the guard with the mark on his wrist.

"Lover boy's not far off. When we get outside, hit her head and knock her out."

Something in me snaps. I'm not a rag doll to be beaten and abused. "No!" Panic sweeps through me. I struggle against the restraints and scream. I kick at the guard and try to get away, but there are too many of them and only one of me. I can't get away, no matter what I do.

They drag me out, blindfolded. I'm crying freely.

A blow strikes the back of my head and the world tilts. The last thing I see is the cold, bleak sky as I slip into darkness.