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Debt or not, I started looking for a way out of here when the gravity of the situation truly struck me.
I have my injured dog at home, a restaurant to run, a best friend who must be frantic with worry, and most of all, Grams. They all need me, so I couldn’t just sit down and give up.
As the only other door in here, apart from the main door, is the ensuite, my only option was to look through the wardrobes. I hoped perhaps they were like mine, with a back door leading downstairs. Of course, they weren’t. All I found was his clothes—which I knew were his because of the style and the scent that lingered amongst them. His scent permeates the room, too.
When I didn’t find any means of escaping—except over the side of the balcony and into the jagged rocks below in the sea—I felt even more stupid than I already do becausehewouldn’t be so careless as to leave any sort of opening for me. Even if there were some sort of door, it would be just as locked and inescapable as the main one is.
I got desperate.
I still am.
The worry over everything back home has increased a hundredfold, and it’s making me sick to my core.
I can imagine Sebastian whimpering and looking for me to take care of him.
Gilman would have called me over a hundred times already, and Dru would have tripled that because the last thing she heard from me was that I was going to sort something out with Conrad.
When she realizes I am missing, she’ll think he sold me, and I don’t know what she’ll do then.
Knowing Dru, she won’t stop looking for me. I can count on her to look after Sebastian, try to run the restaurant and our company to the best of her abilities. I know she would even look after Grams.
But if she thinks Conrad took me and she goes anywhere near him, he’ll kill her.
The thought brings tears to my eyes that I can’t hold back. So does the next thought. The one of me ending up dead.
All worries aside, if I die, Grams is who I’m most concerned about. I can’t expect Dru to keep looking after everything and everyone for me forever. It won’t be her responsibility. So, I have no idea what will happen to my grandmother.
Right now, all I know is that I shouldn’t be here. If the one rule everyone made me live by was to never tell anyone I’m Santiago Navarro’s daughter, I can only expect death to follow me from here onwards.
Even if I confirmed who I was, no one should have been able to find me in Wilmington.
So, how did Malik Volkova do it?
Who is he, or rather,whatis he?
What sort of power does he have to take over a giant like the Navarro Cartel?
I considered him belonging to the mafia. Like maybe the Bratva, the
Russian mafia. I don’t know, though. I think it’s something more because of that. tattoo on his wrist.
The rattle of the key in the door steals the air from my lungs, and my entire
body tenses with trepidation.
He’s back.
Not wanting to look as pathetic as I am, I stand, dry my tears, then gear my heart up to face the beast.
Except when the door opens, it’s not Malik coming through.
It’s an elderly lady with a long graying ponytail and model-like cheekbones.
She’s a little taller than me with a slim build and wearing a full black uniform dress.
She issues me a little smile as I stare at her and wheels a trolley in with food that smells divine. Smelling it reminds me I’m starving. The last time I ate properly was days ago. It was the day I went to see Grams. After that, my appetite went to hell, along with everything else.
“Hi, there,” the woman says in an accented voice. I’m guessing she must be Russian.
