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“You are a stupid girl,” he says, stepping closer to me, he smells like brandy and cigars. “Do you know what it cost me to find you!” He wraps his enormous hand around my throat, I’m afraid my own father may kill me. “How could you be so fucking careless. I am going to fucking lock you up and throw away the key.” His spit lands on my face and I gag, it’s hard to breathe. He’s strangling me.
“I’m sorry.” There’s no sound as I fight to talk around his chokehold.
“So am I, Lucia.” The man in front of me is a monster, and the rose-colored glasses through which I always saw my father are shattered. “Take that fucking screaming child and drown him,” he screams at my cousin Mateo, and I panic. Raul is crying, the shouting only making it worse. I tighten my grip on him and pull him against me. I will not let anything happen to him — he is mine. I love him too much, I would rather die.
“No.” Tears fall from strangulation, and desperation. “You can’t hurt him, he is a baby.”
“He is an enemy.” The way he growls it out I believe he will kill this innocent baby. “He has their blood, and when he is grown, he will have their power. He is not a baby, he is a threat to our future.” He believes what he is saying, even a child that might one day be someone is a threat to the power he craves more than anything.
“Remember who you are, Lucia.” My father reminds me of family, and blind loyalty. “Give the baby to Mateo.” I hang on even tighter to the small boy who is my whole heart and shake my head. The grip on my throat tightens still, but I will not give up without a fight. I was raised to put family above all else, we stayed loyal, and blood was always thicker than water. Well, my blood has run cold, and I see my family for the ruthless, unscrupulous, greedy villains they truly are.
Without thinking I lunge for the gun my father has shoved in his belt and point it right into his gut. “No.” My hoarse voice cracks and it hurts to talk. “He is a baby, and I will die before I let you hurt him,” I say. I should not have to choose between my son and my father — because I see this boy as my own. My father laughs, and before he can let me go and take the gun, I pull the trigger.
The force of the shot makes me stumble back, and it is not a good shot since I am holding a baby, trying to breathe and aim. Blood pours down the front of his powder blue shirt and I see the men around me with their hands on their guns. It’s him or me, and I know that now. I started something that can’t be left half done. I do not recognize the man bleeding in front of me as my family, I only see a monster who would kill a child.
My second shot doesn’t miss. I put a bullet in his heart — just like he taught me when I was I ten. And another right between his eyes, and when I am done, I turn around to the other men in the shelter and speak.
“You have five minutes to choose a side, him, or me. He is dead, so be careful what you choose.” They slowly one by one holster their weapons and look around for someone to take charge. No one is willing to step up to a crazy lady with a baby and a gun. Wise of them.
“You are guests on this island. Actually, no, you will be prisoners here until Salvatore returns then he can decide which sharks to feed you to.” I don’t know where the strength comes from, or who I even am in this moment. I just know that I love Sal, and Raul too much to let anyone, not even family take that from me.
CHAPTER22
Salvatore
It has taken days for the weather to clear enough that I could fly back to the island and news of the storm damage is on every news channel. Other islands far bigger have been completely decimated, coastal towns flooded and billions of dollars in damages are racking up as fast as the death toll. I have been physically sick with worry, knowing they were right in its path.
When I am finally cleared to fly back, the fear of what I will find makes it hard to focus on piloting the chopper. Every minute waiting and not being able to contact them or tell anyone what was happening has killed me. Lorenzo knows, but for the sake of myself and everyone else, he still has no idea where I have been hiding or where I am returning to.
As the island comes into view I am horrified. All I can see from the beach side is leveled trees and the top of the lighthouse. There is debris everywhere, even floating in the usually crystal-clear waters. I have to circle around to land on the helipad and hope like hell there is nothing blocking it when I do. Rounding the island I see two boats at my dock — one, the Russian vessel, is capsized and floats hull up against the one side of the dock and on the other is a vessel I have no desire to see.
Zagaria — her father has found her, and I fear I might be arriving to my own funeral. If he is on the island, I dread my nephew might already be dead. Lucia is what he is after, but he would stop at nothing to eliminate my family. That is why we were here all along, this was supposed to be the safest place on earth.
I hover over the island taking in what is left — almost nothing. My house is destroyed, the vegetation and coast have been annihilated. My paradise is a wreckage, and my refuge has been breached by my enemies. I can fly away and never look back, or I can land and face whatever awaits me.
I have never been coward, I do not run away. Rounding the lighthouse, I position myself to land, it’s a hard landing. No finesse. I just want to find Lucia, and Raul in a hurry. I switch off, and without even tying the chopper down I run towards the dock. Gun in hand, ready to fight for them, and my life. I see the bodies of my men where they have been slaughtered and I imagine the worst.There will be no one to find.
The house is empty, and completely gutted. The storm took the roof off and there are no panoramic windows left — just panoramic nothing and some rubble.
“Lucia,” I scream and my voice is swallowed by the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks. “Please,” I whisper to myself, and God if can hear me. “Lucia!” I scream louder trying to hold onto my sanity. The gun shakes in my hand as I consider putting it to my own head, how much can one man lose before he loses himself?
I trudge through the mud, and debris until I come to the open door of the storm shelter. I know they made it in here, but did they make it out? The place is tossed, but I see all of Raul’s favorite things. Food, water and supplies, Lucia made sure they would be safe. I knew she would look after Raul, she loves him like she loves me.
Inside there is another body on the floor, and when I step closer, I see the bloody remains of the Zagaria Don. If he is dead where are Lucia and the baby? Who killed him? My men all died outside, I can tell they were drawn out and ambushed. That means there are other people on this island or that boat.
I should have brought someone with me, more security, help, fuck it anyone! This could be a trap to get to me, but he is dead, and I know his sons are still in San Luca. Who is in charge? There’s no one in the storm shelter, and I take the gun out of the dead man’s ankle holster so I have an extra one.
They must be on the boat, that’s where I would be. The island is a death trap with all the damage. It’s a mine field of sludge and trees as I walk down the hillside to the dock. The stone steps are blocked with sand, and debris the ocean has dumped on land. I cautiously board the luxury vessel parked where it shouldn’t be, gun drawn and on guard.
“Lucia,” I call her name, and when I see movement, I spin and point my gun at a man who has both hands in the air.
“She’s below deck,” he says, “please don’t shoot me, we are all unarmed.” That is a relief but also very alarming. If they are unarmed, who is armed?
“Who is in charge?” I ask him, still pointing my gun at his head, I have trust issues.
“She is, Lucia,” he stammers out, and I can only smile — of course she is. She’s my girl.
“Walk,” I motion for him to go ahead of me, “you better not be fucking lying, or I will blow your brains all over this nice clean boat.” He walks in front, down the steps and into the cabin of the boat. It’s so over the top and garish with all the gold and ivory and wood. It reminds me of my grandmother’s house when we were just little kids.
