Page 140 of The Umarova Crime Family

I step away from Mona, head back over to the door, and open it before we exit the room. Mona follows closely behind me, and I turn to look back at her, then over to Paulo. “Paulo, take Mona and wait for me by the front door.”

Paulo looks over at Mona and rakes his eyes up and down her body, a bit unsure of what’s going on, but he does as I ask of him. Soon enough, Paulo is walking away with Mona, and I head over to where Duarte is sitting on an oversized, modern couch.

“I’ll take ten thousand off the order price for giving me Mona, but that’s all I’m prepared to do.”

“That’s great. I appreciate the discount and you taking her. She’s done well for me through the years, and I really didn’t want to have to kill her. I would’ve if you didn’t want her, but I was hopeful you’d take one look at her and want her to be with you. She’s still young, so I’m certain she can be a good breeder for you as well, spreading the Umarova genes and all.” Duarte smiles devilishly, and what he calls Mona makes me sick. A breeder. Really?

I swallow hard, keeping back every single thing I want to say to the sick fucker in front of me. “Our deal is done then.”

“Yes, it is,” Duarte confirms.

Out of nowhere, the pitter-patter of feet comes up behind me, and a little black-haired girl jumps into Duarte’s arms. She has freckles spreading across her face, just like her mother, and the same vibrant jade eyes.

She speaks fluent Portuguese to Duarte, but I don’t know any of what she’s saying. Coming in hot behind her is a little red-haired girl who’s a bit wobbly on her feet. The red-haired girl looks up at me and smiles wide. She has Duarte’s brown eyes and freckles spreading across her face like her sister and mother do. While the two little girls seem so happy to see their father, I know their mother’s heart must be breaking. She’s going to be away from her daughters for quite some time until I can figure out how to convince my brother about how we can pull this off.

These little girls are just as much Mona’s as they are Duarte’s, but as I look at the children, I notice neither of them has scars like Mona has. She hasn’t told me how she got the marks, but I highly doubt she had them before she was with Duarte.

Duarte tells the little ones something, and they immediately stop smiling, then look at me. I don’t know what the hell he’s said, but they’re obviously not happy with me. “I’ve told them that their mother is going away with you for a while, and they should say goodbye,” Duarte explains as he rises from the couch. He walks through the house until we’re near the front door, and then the little ones go up to their mother, now crying. Mona talks to them and hugs her little ones. The sight in front of me is saddening. It’s even more reason why I need to reunite them as soon as possible.

“She gave me those two little gifts, and it’s something I will never forget. They have made my life worth it. They have given me purpose. Mona has served her purpose here, and now it’s time for her to move along.” What the fuck is this, The Handmaid’s Tale? He’s not even acting like Mona is a woman. He’s acting like she’s a fucking cow.

“Mona, you may go to your room and take whatever you’d like with you,” Duarte offers, but I’m not going to give him the pleasure.

Mona starts to get up, but I put my hand up. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll provide Mona with whatever she needs.” Duarte’s gaze is staring daggers into me, but I don’t give a flying fuck. He treated Mona one way, and I’m going to be treating her another way.

Considering I’m here on family business, I extend a hand, and Duarte takes it. We both shake, and things are still on good terms, I believe.

Mona’s holding onto her little girls, soaking up as much time as she possibly can with them. I know the clock is ticking, and Duarte is going to interrupt her, tearing her away from her children, but I’m willing to let her have these last few moments with her girls.

Getting them away from Duarte is going to be messy, but I’ll do whatever I can to reunite them again because they never should’ve been separated in the first place.

Chapter Six

Mona

I can’t believe I’m in a bed that isn’t somewhere on the Oliveria estate. I woke up so many times over the course of the night in a cold sweat, shocked that I was in a completely different place. I’m in a hotel in Lisbon, but it’s one I never thought I’d ever be in. It’s obviously five stars and more than I could’ve ever afforded when I was a college student.

The sun beams through the white see-through curtains, and I muster up the courage to get out of bed. I’m naked in bed, simply because I didn’t want to have to sleep in the dress from yesterday. I figure I’ll be wearing it today until we get to wherever we’re going, but as I sit up, I notice a few bags sitting by the door. They’re bags from boutiques, and a few feet away from them are two suitcases. I get up from the bed and mosey over, rifling through the bags.

There’s a variety of jeans, shirts, camis, bras, panties, dresses, and even some shoes. Anything that could’ve been purchased for me clothing-wise was there, and I’m taken aback. I naturally assumed when we got to where we were going, I’d be able to have some new clothes at that point, but I’d been sorely mistaken. Come to think of it, Nazyr did ask me last night what my clothing size was. I guess I know why he wanted me to answer him.

Honestly, this is shocking to me. Nazyr seems so much more human than Duarte. It seems like he cares, and while he might be lying to me, I don’t think he is. He’s a bad man, and I’m not blind to that fact, but Nazyr has a heart. I can see it through and through. There’s part of me that wants to keep my guard up with him, a natural instinct, I suppose, but there’s a small sliver of me that wants to trust every word that passes through his lips. I won’t be as foolish to trust him that way until he’s proven himself to me, but my gut instinct is that I should relax a little bit, which terrifies me. I haven’t felt this way in years, yet I feel it with some man I haven’t even known for twenty-four hours. It’s ridiculous.

There wasn’t much conversation between Nazyr and me last night. He ended up heading to bed early and said I could stay in the hotel suite. I ended up chatting with Paulo, who is Nazyr’s driver and security, I believe. Paulo is originally from Mexico and was recently sent to work for Nazyr. He told me good things about his new boss, which I suppose is adding to my calm feelings and why I seemingly want to trust him.

I pick an outfit out of the bags in front of me and then go into the en-suite bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day. Nazyr got us a three-bedroom suite at a local hotel, and I was a bit worried he was going to make me sleep with him. I was relieved when he told me about the sleeping arrangements. I don’t think I’ve been this relieved in a very, very long time.

I turn the shower on medium-high heat and wait a couple of minutes to let the water warm up. I look over at the counter, and there’s a large makeup bag. I unzip the top and rifle through it, seeing I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and a few small things like mascara, an eyebrow pencil, and some eyeshadow. There’s no foundation or concealer, but I’m certain it’s because he doesn’t know my shade.

I smile to myself and grab the facial cleanser from the bag, then head into the glass shower. As the water pours over me, a sense of relief washes over me as well. I miss my little girls more than anything, but I need to have some sort of faith in Nazyr that we’re going to get them back from Duarte.

My shower doesn’t take long, especially since there’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash already in the shower. They’re fresh bottles, which I can only assume means they were purchased for me. I don’t know how I slept through Nazyr or Paulo coming into my room last night, but I did. Usually, I’m a very light sleeper.

I get out of the shower and use the hotel’s hair dryer to dry my hair in record time, then pull a brush through it. I draw out my eyebrows so they look a bit better. They don’t look bad naturally, but they have an unmangled sort of feel to them. I apply a little bit of mascara, but nothing crazy then put on my clothes. I don’t know if Nazyr hand-picked every item, but if he did, he did a really good job. A fabulous one, in fact.

When I finish dressing, I’m wearing a pair of black jeans with a cutout over each knee, white tennis shoes, and a white shirt, with a khaki-colored dress shirt over the white one. I tie the front of the shirt to make it look a little better, then exit my bathroom and the bedroom. As I walk out into the common area, I immediately spot Nazyr sitting at the breakfast table.

He’s sipping on some coffee, and there’s a full plate of food in front of him. My stomach rumbles, and there’s another plate of food across from him with a metal cover over the top of it.

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