“Is that what he whispered in your ear at the church—that I stole you from him?” Cristiano asked.
What other explanation was there? There was no question that’s what had happened. Diego had given me away, but Cristiano had stolen me as well.
I put the fork down and pushed the cake away. “He didn’t have to whisper anything. I know what I know—neither of you are innocent.”
“And you decide what’s true, do you?” he asked. “You don’t have even a shadow of a doubt that I killed your mother, so it must be true.”
I choked a little, barely managing not to cough. If that wasn’t true, then it would turn Cristiano from a murderer on the run to an innocent man fleeing persecution. I refused to believe that. Cristiano was the last person who deserved my sympathy. “Yes,” I said. “I still think you murdered her.”
“You want to believe it, because you want to believe the worst in me. You’ll excuse Diego anything. Imagine how you’ll feel if none of it is true.”
“I have eyes and ears. You were standing over her with a gun and blood on your clothes, ready to make off with the contents of her safe.” I could admit to myself that I had shreds of doubt as to whether he’d done it. But how would being falsely accused have shaped the man he was today? It still made him a wild card—but one with an axe to grind. And it still didn’t excuse the business he ran now. Emotion bloomed in my chest, and I channeled it into anger. “You’ll put a young girl on the street,” I accused, my voice rising. “That’s the lowest of the low, and it can never be forgiven.”
“I agree,” he said coolly. “But you refuse to listen to my side or to see reason.” His jaw firmed as he nodded at my plate. “Eat your cake, Natalia. Live in that world where Diego is a prince. When you want answers, and you’ve got the guts to face them, let me know.” He stood, took out his phone, and said with finality, “When you’re ready for the truth, I’ll be here.”
I jerked my head up. “That’s it?”
“What’s it?” he asked as he typed.
“I can go to bed?”
“You sound disappointed.”
Ending the night now meant I’d wake up and go through all of this again tomorrow. He would devour me—it was inevitable. The sooner we got it over with, the sooner I’d know my family was safe. “I told you—I want this done.”
“Don’t worry. It will be done. I don’t need you to believe me to fuck me.” Narrowing his gaze on me, he slid his phone back into his shirt pocket. “But I intend to take my dessert in the bedroom.”
5
Natalia
Night had fallen, covering the town like a blanket. Out front, freedom spread in every direction from the precipice on which Cristiano’s home sat. But even in the dark, I could feel how abruptly it stopped at the Badlands’ gates. A light flickered here and there to the soundtrack of a hooting owl but it was otherwise silent and the horizon black.
“Put a smile on your face,” Cristiano said as we stood in his driveway, waiting to see off the next wave of guests.
On the patio, he’d been unable to keep his hands off me, but now, distance was all he seemed capable of. I was once again invisible until I was a nuisance or had done something wrong, like frown.
I forced my mouth into what I hoped looked like a smile when an elderly couple exited the house, the old man walking on a tilt. His wife took both my hands and rushed out a goodwill prayer as Cristiano helped her husband down the steps. Nobody seemed to have cars except Cristiano himself—once they left, they descended into the night on foot.
After the final guest, Cristiano held open the front door for me. This was it. We were alone, and there was no more time. I entered the house to the clink of dishes from the kitchen. Lingering smells of fish stew and baked goods lent me no comfort. As I trailed behind him, Cristiano glanced over his shoulder, as if ensuring I hadn’t made a break for it.
In the kitchen, cleanup had begun. Staff members in rubber gloves and aprons filled the dishwasher, topped plastic containers, and scrubbed the ovens.
“We’ll continue to eat like kings for a few days,” Cristiano said, and some people laughed. “Everyone raved about tonight’s fare, Fisker. Well done.”
Applause filled the room as I hovered in the doorway, trying desperately to piece the scene together. Nobody seemed distraught. Either the staff members were resigned to their situations, or like tonight’s guests, they supported, benefitted, and profited off Cristiano’s business.
Even beautiful Jaz had something quietly ugly and fearful about her, like an elegant cat that purred to lure you in, then used its claws on you. She sat on a countertop, feet dangling, watching me as she dried dishes and slid them onto the top shelf of a cabinet.