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and making for the clearing between Rafael's yard and the village in the distance. Following at his back with my heart in my throat, I couldn't decide what I dreaded more.

Looking Hugo in the eye, or whatever punishment Rafael would decide on when he learned the truth. Joaquin's words, the when and not if, struck me as truth. I couldn't imagine anything happened on the island without his knowledge.

I dragged my feet as we walked, feeling like I was closer to marching to my death than going to have a conversation with a friend. My heart pumped in my throat, tears burning it like acid as I fought to keep them back.

The house the brothers lived in was beautiful. A yellow building that was well-kept and had flowers growing in planters on each of the windows. It blended in with the rest of the houses in the village that wasn't really a village, just a small town that reminded me of Dalt Vila in Ibiza Town.

Small. Old fashioned. But there were touches of luxury everywhere I looked.

Joaquin pushed open the front door, leading the way inside as I glanced over my shoulder at the people watching me with whispering lips. They gathered, the soft murmurs of reina echoing through the space between us until Joaquin closed the door and separated us from them. "They'll get used to you," he said in an attempt to reassure me, guiding me toward the back of the house. Gabriel and Hugo both sat at a patio set on the terrace, a pitcher of sangria in the center despite the early hour.

Joaquin cleared his throat to get their attention, and the brothers spun to face him. Hugo's eyes widened briefly before he vaulted to his feet when he saw me. "Isa," he said, moving toward me as if he might hug me.

I held up both hands and clenched my eyes closed, warning him off as best I could without words. I didn't think my voice would work.

I suddenly couldn't bear to speak any of the thoughts that had been in my head since I'd learned the truth. I didn't think anything could soothe the wound his deception had left.

He waited, watching me cautiously with his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. "Why?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. "Why did you have to make me care about you? Was that part of your job?" I asked finally.

He shook his head, scrubbing his hands down his face. "No. I needed to be your friend and we needed to watch you. That's all."

"Then why?" I whispered. "What was the point?"

"You care about me because you have a huge heart. Because you don't give your love often, but when you do? You give it all. Just like me," he sighed, moving forward to take my hands in his despite my resistance. "And I love you. You're my best friend, Isa. I didn't want this for you. Please believe me," he begged. He didn't move to touch me more than the contact at my hands, where I had no doubt that he would have once hugged me and held me.

His fear of Rafael was too strong, even with him absent.

"How can you say that? You don't lie to people you love," I accused.

"I lied to you about why I was in Chicago, but the friendship we built was real. You're a part of me. You're a part of all of us now. We knew you before you were Señora Ibarra, and we'll always remember that girl," Hugo said.

"But the woman she's growing to be is a force to be reckoned with, and we very much look forward to watching that journey," Gabriel said from the table. Hugo pulled on my hands, drawing me over and sitting me in one of the seats as I cried.

"It's okay to cry," Hugo said, wiping some of the tears away from my eyes.

"I don't know who I am anymore," I admitted, watching as his face twisted. I knew he'd understand better than anyone, because he'd known me before Rafael.

"You're mi reina. You're exactly who you have to be to survive El Diablo," Hugo said, taking a seat next to me.

I didn't let people in often. I didn't accept that I needed others, because I knew in the end other people only ever hurt me.

They used. They took.

But sometimes, they were worth loving despite all that. Sometimes they were worth forgiving, even in the tiniest sliver of my heart.

I just had to hope I didn't get burned a second time, because I wouldn't survive the ashes again.

29

Rafael

It had been far too long since I’d stalked through the streets of a city that wasn't my own. Since I’d moved through the night like the darkness was mine to claim. There was no bodyguard at my back, no one to protect me if something went wrong.

It wouldn't, because no one could defeat the devil when the sun went down.

Leonid stumbled through Rome blindly and half drunk, entirely unaware of the nightmare who trailed at his heels and prepared to kill him slowly.

To make him suffer for the sins of his father.

The apartment he stepped up to would have been a secure fortress that few could compete with when trying to gain access. But such things didn't matter for men like me.

His men were all half drunk on their own arrogance and vodka, letting me slip inside the building as if I belonged. I followed him up the stairs at a slower pace, allowing Leonid to guide me to the space that would be the last he ever saw.

I would sear the memory of it into his eyes long after they stopped seeing, letting the reminder of his passing haunt him in death. He fumbled with the keys he pulled from his pocket, scraping the doorknob with his unsteady hands.

Stepping up behind him, I took the keys from his loose grip. "Here, let me help you,"

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