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Darya whimpered against my chest, pulling my attention from everything else. She drew in a long breath and her long lashes batted against her flushed cheeks, slowly pulling her out of sleep. For a second, confusion pulled on her features, and I smoothed a hand down the curve of her back. “You’re safe, baby. I’ve got you.”
“You’re here?” She whispered against me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her.
She cuddled closer and let her eyes close again, her breathing evening out as she drifted back to sleep. I stayed awake until my temples throbbed from all the unanswered questions. Whenever it was that we were both awake again and ready to emerge from my room, things were going to change and the uncertainty of it had me reeling. I buried my nose into her hair and inhaled her, letting that vanilla scent wash over me and drown out everything else until I drifted alongside her.
???
Her bandaged hand thumped against the door as we turned off the property and I could sense her unease. She’d been a prisoner at my house for almost two weeks and as I’d tugged her along behind me into the garage, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. I tried to reassure her with a soft smile that nothing bad was going to happen but that I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I couldn’t blame her for being suspicious of the man who’d kidnapped her and then used her most intimate moment against her.
It was like whiplash, and I hated the way she seemed so battered.
I raced between cars on the highway, anxious to get to our first stop and ease her worries and after half an hour, the rusting rot iron fence came into view. Nearly orange with age, it complimented the lush green grass it contained. I pulled us to a stop near one of the open entrances and put the car in park, turning to see her brows knitted in confusion. Her eyes danced across the grounds, taking in the gray and white marble slabs incrementally placed as far as the eye could see.
“Is this another punishment?” Her voice was low and clipped and guilt spiraled through my gut.
“No, I wanted to show you something.”
Her head turned slowly, her lips pouting in question. “Come on.”
I walked around the side of the car as she slid out and wrapped my arm around her waist. I was sure she interpreted the gesture as possessive or making sure she wasn’t going to run but I just wanted to feel her against me. Needed to know she was with me when I opened up my heart and showed her its contents.
I headed straight for her headstone. It was lonesome, smack dab in the middle of the plot picked out for the Zaragozas. Eventually, it would hold all nine of us with room to grow for spouses and children. She’d picked it out herself, never knowing she’d be the first one entombed in it.
As we got closer, Darya’s eyes narrowed until she could make out the romantic scrawl in dark black carving.Mariona Valverde Zaragoza.
“Is this your mother?” My eyes were glued to her, watching the slow rise of her chest as she realized where we were. Her gaze lingered longer, her lips forming my mother’s name before she turned to me.
I nodded.
Her hand searched for mine and our fingers laced like she could read my mind– could read my heart. “What happened to her?” She asked.
My gaze dropped. “Cancer.”
“Lucia talked about her a little when we made spaghetti and meatballs,” she offered. “Were you two close?”
My jaw clenched. “Not in life.”
My father didn’t allow it past a certain age. When Matteo and I were old enough to begin our individual training, he’d sat us both down and told us in so many words that being attached to our mother was a weakness we couldn’t afford. One that he couldn’t afford. The sooner we distanced ourselves, the better.
She was soft, nurturing, and loving– everything my father didn’t want for his sons.
“I wasn’t afforded the luxury of getting to know her as I got older.”
Her brows pulled together but she didn’t inquire, instead, she offered me space to tell my own story.
“My father only saw her as weak. Unless she was birthing him another child, he didn’t pay her much mind.”
Her eyes darted back to the name.Mariona Valverde Zaragoza.She went by Mari with her friends.
“But he had things twisted.” I swallowed the grief that threatened to bubble over. “She was stronger than all of us.”
“I bet Lucia is like her.”
My lips tugged into a smile. Darya’s attachment to my sister was obvious and the concern she’d shown for my brother was unexpected and moving. I imagined she’d yearned for a family like mine, at least how we appeared on the outside, and my pride swelled knowing she enjoyed them as I did.
“You are too.”
