“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it, Simon. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”
My throat tightens, but I don’t let it show. “You should’ve been.”
“I hope one day you’ll understand.”
My lips part but no words will come out. I want to scream. I want to pull him close. To shove him away. I want a thousand things I can’t name.
But all I manage to say is: “I don’t know how to forgive you.”
“Then don’t. I don’t need your forgiveness, Simon. Just your understanding.”
A large warm hand runs through the back of my head, and I nearly mewl at the sensation. Carlos runs his fingers through my hair, before leaning over and whispering in my ear.
“Things are hard for you right now, and I get it, you need time. But when I land back home, I will be coming for you, little lion. Enough of you hiding from me. We are meant to be and you know it,” he says so possessively my body is covered in goosebumps. He presses a swift kiss to my head and leaves with a soft click as he closes the door.
I stare at the sunlight again that spills onto the floor, golden and warm, painfully at odds with the cold hollowness inside me. Dust floats in the rays of light, weightless and aimless like me.
The pain in my back eases as I let the sting of Carlos’ absence bloom in my chest.
I want to hate him.
I want to love him.
But more than anything I want to be whoever I was before this nightmare. He is gone, leaving behind this man stitched together with scars, lying in bed watching the sun rise on the ruins that ended his life.
Will I ever be enough again?
The city of Rio is a sleeping monster as we drive. Its lights flicker dimly beneath a blanket of fog, the hills lie in shadows curled around secrets too old to name. The road out of the city grows quieter with every mile, peeling away from the life and chaos of the favela, leaving only silence and the faint hum of tires against broken asphalt.
I’m sitting in the front with Lucas driving. Enrico is sitting behind me, quiet, his expression in the rear view mirror is unreadable. None of us speak. There is too much riding on what waits at the end of the road.
I swallow hard as I glance at the GPS. Half a mile left.
We turn off the main road, tires crunching over gravel. The abandoned house looms ahead, half swallowed by overgrown trees and the creeping rot of time. The windows are boarded. The porch sags. But beneath the decay, life moves. We are expected.
Lucas parks the car next to the two large vehicles already here. Marin's cars. We get out of the car, the night is still and humid. The air smells of dirt and sweat mixed with old rain.
Two men with AKs wait by the porch, their tattoos clear even in the low light—Marin ink, unmistakable. Neither says a word to us as we are frisked, weapons left behind in the car. One of the guards jerks his head toward the door when we are finished being searched.
I lead the way into the house. The stench of mildew mixed with cigar smoke clings to my clothing. Candles flicker in the corner, throwing warped images across the crumbling walls. And seated in a large high back chair, far too expensive for the setting, is Igor Marin. The boss.
He is a mountain of a man, bloated with wealth and indulgence. Thick gold chains bling on his thick neck, rings like brass knuckles flash on every finger. His bald head shines with perspiration, and his small dark eyes watch us with the slow, lazy interest of a predator already halfway finished with the kill.
“So,” Igor says, voice low and sticky like syrup. “The Silva prince comes crawling into my den. I’m curious, Carlos. Do you want to die, or are you here to sell your soul?”
I step forward, my heart pounding at dangerous levels. “Neither. I come to offer you everything you’ve been circling for years.”
Igor raises his eyebrow. “Everything?”
I nod once and notice Enrico has moved next to me, tense, because he is unaware that I’m going to sell him down the river.
“The remaining holdings of the Silva family. Territories, ports, accounts. I know you’ve been eyeing some of them. But I’m offering it all to you.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Enrico hisses at me. I ignore him.
An amused chuckle rumbles from Igor’s chest. “And you‘re just giving them away? Just like that? Where's the catch?”
I only briefly hesitate as I try to swallow my dry mouth.
