“My son has always been quiet,” Mom told her, talking about me as though I was still a child. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s a sweet boy. He has a good heart.”
“Yeah,” Sofia agreed on a sigh. “I haven’t been fair to him. I understand him better after today. I was just scared of getting hurt again. All of this is so new to me, and the transition has been hard. I still don’t like that I’m part of this world, but that’s not Mateo’s fault. I’m conflicted about him working for Adrián, but I can see now that he’s a good man.”
I looked down at my body, considering my appearance through Sofia’s eyes.
She wouldn’t say I was a good man if she could see the guts on my clothes and the torn flesh embedded beneath my fingernails.
Maybe she could accept that I’d gone after Ruiz and Medina to protect her. But I was certain that she couldn’t begin to fathom what I’d done to their bodies, how I’d made them suffer and scream before I’d finally allowed them to die.
A good man wouldn’t have killed them at all.
A man with a shred of goodness in him would have granted them a quick death.
I was not a good man.
And I’d been touching my sweet, pure Sofia with greedy, bloody hands.
Ever since I’d taken her as my hostage, I’d placed the blame at Caesar’s feet. I reasoned that I never would have ripped her out of her safe, happy existence and dragged her into my dark, dangerous world.
I might be blameless for pulling her into this world, but I wouldn’t be innocent if I kept her trapped in it.
I’d been so pleased for the excuse to act on my selfish desires, to claim and cage the woman I’d always wanted without having to accept any of the guilt.
She wouldn’t be married off to Ronaldo, not even over my dead body. She wouldn’t be given to any criminal.
Including me.
Until Caesar had forced Adrián’s hand and I’d kidnapped Sofia, she’d lived completely separate from our criminal organization. She had her simple college life, plenty of creatively-minded friends, and a dream for a future where she pursued her passion for music.
That life still existed, waiting for her to step back into it. Once Ronaldo was dead, I could put her back there. I’d have to make it clear to Caesar that she was to remain outside our world, or he would suffer at my hands.
But I could return her to safety and a life untainted by moral compromises. Even now, I could hear her making excuses for me, rationalizing how it would be best for her to give me a chance.
I was going to have to break this infatuation that I’d fostered if I was going to ensure her future happiness.
Sofia was better off without me in her life, and it was time for both of us to accept that unpleasant truth.Chapter 19SofiaI still wasn’t thrilled that Mateo had made a bargain to claim my virginity, and I would rather not think about all the killing and maiming that was part of his job, but everything I’d witnessed today had softened my heart toward him.
Mateo might do bad things, but he wasn’t a bad man. He didn’t hurt people for fun. This was how he’d survived the hell he’d been raised in. It was how he’d saved his mom.
I didn’t like the dark underworld I’d found myself in when Daddy had chosen to kidnap Valentina, but I’d always been part of it, even if I hadn’t been aware.
Transitioning into this reality would be a difficult process going forward, but I was willing to face it. With Mateo’s help and support, I would survive it. I knew he was strong enough to carry me through it and shelter me from the worst parts of it.
He was quiet on the journey home, but I didn’t press him to talk. I sensed that his dark mood lingered; the aftermath of revisiting his traumatic childhood. I wanted to at least hold his hand to offer silent support, but that was hindered by his attention to driving.
When we pulled up in front of his house, he got out of the Porsche and walked straight to the front door. He didn’t open my car door and help me out.
Even when I’d been emotionally withdrawn from him over the last three weeks, he’d still opened the door for me every time without fail. No matter often I refused his offered hand.
My heart ached for him, knowing he must be completely trapped in the nightmares inside his head. That was the only explanation for his sudden neglect.
In the past, I would have overanalyzed this behavior and interpreted it as rejection. I would have shrunk away and settled for scraps of affection when he deigned to give them to me.