She puts her sketch pad down when she senses Adam approaching. He hasn’t said much to her since that night. It was five nights ago.
“Your drawings are getting better,” he says.
It’s probably the first full sentence he’s said to her which means something is up. Adam isn’t the type to kiss ass or the kiss and makeup type.
“Chase has been giving me some pointers,” she says before turning around in her seat to face him.
She’s sitting outside by the pool in the cool afternoon air. She finds that she would much rather shake from the cold outside than tremble with the cravings indoors.
He takes a seat next to her, pulling his sweater around him.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
The question puts a smile on his face but she doesn’t know why.
“I like that you’re getting braver,” he replies. “You’re more comfortable speaking your mind and not just waiting for permission to speak.”
“I—I didn’t…”
“I said I liked it,” he cuts her off but gives her a grin too.
“So is there something wrong?” she asks.
He exhales audibly. “That night,” he begins.
“Oh God! Did they find out? Does Isabella know I’m—”
“Ariana! Stop falling down that rabbit hole and let me speak!” He gives her a hard stare down, warning her to slow her thoughts.
“That night, after I left the club, Don Matteo showed up to the after-party.”
A million questions threaten to escape but she seals her lips shut tightly and waits.
“He was accompanied by two of Don Mazzilli’s associates,” Adam continues.
She nods for him to keep speaking. She won't be interrupting even with her mind racing into a million different directions and her pulse speeding up like a trapped rat. Isabella surely now knows where she is and that she is a rat. Soon to be a dead rat.
“Isabella and Cristian have once again made a deal on behalf of my family. Except for this time, we can’t say no because they went above us and informed Matteo and Don Mazzilli of this deal. Matteo was there to make sure that everything will go smoothly. They tied our hands and we have to push through.”
Even though her heart rate slows down because Isabella has yet to discover where she is, the weight of Adam’s worries piles on her shoulders too. Her heart aches at the thought of what he and his family must be going through.
“I’m sorry,” is all she can say.
He pats her hand. It’s a tender touch that she’s starved for these past few days. She wished it didn’t have to lead to this for her to receive it though.
“What do you know about the Santeria Family?” he asks. “We’ve heard of them before. They’re a smaller family from Mexico but we never had dealings with them because they weren’t interested in our product. They also get their weapons from another associate of ours so it was unnecessary to make any connections there.”
“Santeria,” she repeats and racks her brain to figure out why it’s too familiar. Names aren’t generally dropped around her. She’d learn names when it was one on one time. It’s those times that she didn’t want to remember now.
But a light bulb goes off in the recesses of her mind.
“Girls,” she whispers. “I…I think they provided girls for Eden. It…Adam, it might make sense,” she looks at him, her eyes probably the size of saucers. “Olympus has got to be closed to its opening. They’re going to need girls.”
“Fucking traffickers,” Adam mumbles. “We don’t deal people. We never have!”
His hand turns into a fist beneath her palm.
“Did Pietro Romano do this while he was alive?” he asks.
“I don’t think so but things started changing when…when Don Pietro became a recluse,” she replies.
The gleam in his steel eyes says she’s sparked an interest.
“I don’t know much about his life other than his business dealings but his obituary said that he died in his sleep peacefully.”
She nods at him. “I don’t know why they didn’t mention that he had a heart attack,” she informs him.
She can almost feel his mind running with the information but doesn’t say anything more. She waits for him to ask instead because she doesn’t know what’s considered relevant information at this point.
“What was he like before he died? Was his health failing?”
“I honestly can’t be sure if it was,” she replies thoughtfully. “He kept to himself more and more in the past year before his passing. Not even Isabella or Cristian visited with him much even though they lived on the estate. He tolerated my presence even less in those days. He went weeks at a time without having me clean his bedroom or do his laundry,” she answers.
“A year before he died,” Adam mumbles. “That’s about the time Eden opened its doors.”
She nods. “Yes.”
The memories of that day still fresh on her mind. The torture and the torment of it all. A tear escapes unintendedly. It warms its way down her cheek but Adam catches it before it falls.
“What’s going on inside that head?” he asks. “Is it Eden?”
She nods.
“I can’t have kids Adam,” she blurts out.
“What?” he asks as though he’d been punched in the gut.
His brows nearly touch each other and she was sure he was going to pull his hand out of her grasp in disgust.
“They saw how profitable the business was and…and they saw how much I can help them with their negotiations. But,” she pauses and breathes through the chokehold in her throat. “One of the girls got pregnant within a month and Cristian…Cristian wanted to put me on a more long term birth control so that doesn’t happen but…”
“Isabella decided it should be permanent,” he finishes.
She nods at him.
Unable to look at his beautiful face. She holds onto him while she can.
Men don’t want damaged goods. And she is beyond damaged now. As it is, she can’t even be seen in public with him. After this information, she doubts he’d want to be seen even if they could dance at a ball.
He gathers her in the warmth of his arms. He holds her so tight that they are both shaking in their seats, next to each other. In each other’s arms. It’s too much for her fragile emotions. It doesn’t just quake the ground she stands but it breaks the dam and the floodgate of sobs escape.
“We can fix this,” he whispers.
But for once, she can hear the uncertainty in his voice. If he doesn’t have the conviction behind his words then she’s sure that it’s hopeless for her. She nods into his chest anyway. At least she can make him feel as if he can do more. At least he won’t feel like an endless pit of misery…like she does.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“It’s been days, Adam. You’re still going to sulk about it?” Derrick asks from the seat next to his in the back of the SUV.
“No. That was nothing new,” he answers.
Derrick thinks this is still about their fight. That ship has sailed into a shitstorm long ago.