Page 25 of Fractured Devotion

His laughter crackled through the connection, a rare sound from a man more known for his steely demeanor than bouts of mirth. “It’s complicated,” he admitted, the word ‘complicated’ carrying a weight that suggested a story worth hearing. “But I gotta run,” he continued, the sound of his movement a rustle over the line, “Don’t hesitate to call. Drake Winston wants Lipovsky gone as much as you do, so whatever you need, consider it done.”

His words bolstered my resolve, reminding me that our network and connections were weapons just as sharp as any blade we carried. Lipovsky had made enemies, and those enemies were now our silent, powerful allies. With such backing, the scales tipped slightly more in our favor, a needed edge in the battle ahead.

“God speed, brother.”

With a frustrated motion, I ended the call, the phone making a solid sound as it hit the granite counter. My hands found their way to my face, pressing against my skin as I let out a raw, muffled scream into the cage of my fingers. The world was spinning out of my control, a maelstrom of uncertainty. Was Carmela safe? Did she know that I was out here, that my every thought and action was hellbent on bringing her back? I sent up a silent prayer, hoping it would find her somehow, that she would feel the fierce determination that pulsed through me, a silent vow that I wouldn’t rest until she was by my side once more.

The sound of the elevators whirling to life told me my solace was about to be interrupted. Glancing over at the private entrance, I was not expecting to see the person walking through.

“You mother fucking asshole.” Celestina’s voice echoed off the interior as she advanced toward me. “How long?” Beckett was close behind her.

“Should you be out and about? You just had twins, Celestina.”

“Fuck you, Alex. Fuck you and my family for keeping this from me.”

“Calm down, Butterfly.” Beckett wrapped his arms around his wife. She shot him a look over her shoulder that froze hell. Beckett simply smiled and kissed her forehead. “Give him a chance to explain. You’re not the only one they kept this from.”

His words struck like a bullet to my chest—he was right. We’d kept it from him, Catarina, their parents, and most of all, her. It wasn’t done in malice, we just felt telling them would create a much bigger issue. And based on the anger pouring off Celestina in waves, we might have been wrong about keeping her out of the loop. But she was here, which meant someone fucked up and let it slip.

“How did you find out?” I waved her toward the living room, “Come sit down, and we’ll talk.”

“I overheard Antonio telling Michael about Columbia.” Her body dropped to the couch, and I watched as Beckett folded her into his arms. His touch was like a trigger to her tears, which only cut me deeper as they fell.

She’d suffered just as much as I did when we’d lost Carmela—maybe more. I’d been so focused on myself, I’d forgotten that she was hurting, too. I sat down on the table opposite her and pulled her hands into my own.

“I’m sorry, Celestina, we should have told you. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings I didn’t stop to think about how you deserved to be included in what we knew. I could sit here and say it’s because you just had the twins, but that would be a lie. I think we didn’t want to get your hopes up. You’d just started to find happiness, and I couldn’t bear to look you in the face and tell you we’d been wrong. But that’s no excuse. And for that, I’m sorry, Celestina.”

She pulled in a shaky breath, swiping at the tracks of tears like she was trying to erase more than just wetness. “How is she?” Her low, fragile voice was full of a need to know.

“Different.” I dropped her hands. “She’s changed,” I admitted, my hands falling away from hers, my eyes flicking to Beckett for just a split second. He caught my look, and without a word, we both knew—the change in Celestina’s twin would cause his wife pain. “She’s convinced she’s done stuff, crossed lines that have marked her, made her think she’s past being loved, beyond forgiveness..”

“There’s nothing she can do that will make me stop loving her.” Celestina’s voice carried a tone of absolution, similar to the edge I had in my own voice when I’d spoken the same words to Carmela. “Thank you, Alex, for never giving up on her. All of you kept the hope that she was still alive. There have been so many times that I was ready to accept she was gone, but the connection I have with my twin has never stopped pulsing. Where is she now?”

I swallowed; this was going to be hard, and part of me wanted to lie to her, but I wouldn’t do that anymore.

“She’s been playing a part, one that caught up to her, and unfortunately, Lipovsky has her again.” She sucked in a shocked gulp of air at my words. “But… we know where she is this time, and we have a plan. We’re getting her back… for good. I promise you, Celestina. Carmela is coming home. I’ll stake my life on that because I won’t live in a world without her again.”

Once she seemed satisfied with what I knew, Beckett led her toward the elevator with the assuredness of a man well-accustomed to navigating complex situations.

“Please, keep me in the loop. I might be a picture of exhaustion, sporting the dark circles of sleep deprivation and nursing the sorest of nipples,”—she blew out a tired sigh that brooked no argument—“but I need to be told of every development regarding my sister.”

Beckett’s reaction was immediate; his hand rose to cover his face as if to shield himself from the blunt oversharing.

“Butterfly, I sincerely doubt that Alex had any desire to be privy to your particular… dilemmas,” he remarked, his voice a mix of amusement and reprimand. He cast me a glance that carried the weight of a thousand apologies. “The boys are insatiable little creatures, incessantly feeding and rarely succumbing to sleep, which is exactly why we should be making our departure. If I were to wager, I’d say that Madison and Rachel are teetering on the edge of packing their bags and fleeing.”

A chuckle escaped me as I pictured Antonio and Massimo’s spirited wives trying to navigate the chaos of a nursery gone wild.

“I’ll be sure to keep you informed of any developments, Celestina. But promise me… when you finally see her again—because you will see her again—she’s changed, and you’ll have to accept the new her.”

“New her, old her. I don’t care. I’ll take my sister anyway I can.”

fourteen

CARMELA

I’d been in the fucking cage for at least twenty-four hours, watching as the other twelve women stuck in this prison were dragged out of the room. They never came back, which could only mean one thing—they’d been bought or were on loan. It was the organization’s sick ‘try before you buy’ mentality. Many times, the women came back, only to be shoved in a cage for another round of the process again.

The door to the room I was confined to opened, and Andrei walked through, his expression smug. Another one of Aleski’s goons followed him through the door and waited for his orders.

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