Page 8 of Branches of Betrayal

“Regresa a mí, tentadora,” she whispered into the now-empty bottle. She let a couple of tears fall free, unable to find the willpower to hold them back anymore.

God, when was the last time she had felt so lost, so broken?

When herMamihad passed away.

Losing her had broken the entire family and the only thing that kept them together was the broken parts of each other. But now it felt like she was broken on her own, and she was cutting herself open on the broken parts of herself that never healed from the first heartbreak.

A sob tore free and Hadina grabbed the empty bottle, throwing it against the wall with an almighty scream. The glass shattered everywhere and she let out a hoarse laugh, feeling defeated as she looked at the mess.

Curling her arms around herself, she sat up and looked towards the framed photo of her mother. She looked so beautiful and happy in the snapshot, her smile bright and her hazel eyes glistening in the sunlight. Her dark hair was down in loose curls around her shoulder, not unlike how Hadina chose to wear hers often.

Hadina had loved her mother more than anyone and the loss of her felt just as raw every day. The absence of her in their lives was so apparent in everything they did. She’d think of something funny and want to share it with herMami, only to have the horrifying realization that she couldn’t. Even after all these years had passed, it never got easier.

“I wanted to be good for her,Mami,but I let her down,” she said on a soft cry, staring at the photo. “I wanted to be good for you, too. But I do bad things and God is coming to collect payment for my sins. Maybe this pain is what I get. Is Godpunishing me? I’ll take it if He is,Mami,but I just need to know she’s okay. I need her to be safe, even if it means I have to live life without her afterwards.”

Tears flooded down her cheeks as she spoke to her mother, wishing more than anything that she could hear her voice. She scrunched her eyes closed and let herself feeleverything, roaring in an agonizing scream as she thudded her fists on the carpeted floor. She pounded her fists until she felt her skin break, specks of blood smearing onto the carpet.

At some point, unconsciousness pulled her under but even sleep haunted Hadina with thoughts of her beloved mother and her missing lover.

It had beenover a week since Peyton had been kidnapped and Hadina’s team still couldn’t find her. They were trying everything—because they’d have to face Hadina’s wrath if they didn’t—and yet there was no sign of her. Demi hadn’t surfaced and it made Hadina’s skin itch. The more worried she became, the looser her grip on reality became.

The stoic, collectedreina de las sombraswas allowing herself to become insanity incarnate. But she didn’t care… Hadina would make a deal withel diabloif it meant she could save Peyton.

In fact, that was a gross understatement. Hadina wouldbecomethe devil and wreak havoc on the world if Peyton wasn’t returned to her.

Loneliness was a dangerous thing and could make even the sanest person go mad. Even surrounded by her family who were rallying to help her, Hadina had never felt so lonely. Peyton hadforced her way inside, invading her every sense and latching onto her soul; without her, life felt pointless.

Sitting at her desk, Hadina looked at the mess of her office. At some point, she’d woken and made her way to the kitchen. A plate ofenchiladassat covered on the kitchen island, a note from her father stuck on top telling her to eat. She’d contemplated eating them but chose to stick to her liquid diet.

The copious amounts of tequila had her feeling numb, yet she became more erratic the more she drank. From the looks of the mess, she had trashed the entire office at some point in a fit of rage. Now joining the broken bottle, books were discarded across the floor, chairs upturned, paper strewn everywhere.

“Mierda,” she whispered to herself as she stood, staggering slightly. She ran a hand through her hair, groaning when she found her curls had become matted strands from neglect. Her mouth felt dry and the taste of tequila lingered on her lips, making her feel nauseous as she remembered the burning feeling.

Hadina stepped around the desk, tiptoeing across the carpet to avoid standing on the broken glass. As she opened the door, the scent of eggs being fried wafted through the house. The nausea she had been feeling rose up the back of her throat and she had barely made it a step before she vomited onto the wooden flooring of the hallway. As she emptied her guts, Hadina slid to her knees, her stomach and throat burning.

“God, you look like shit,” Harris said from behind her, walking around the pile of vomit to help her stand.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Hadina shrugged off his helping hands and offered only a glare in return. “What are you even doing here? I didn’t tell you to come over here this morning.”

Harris shook his head, looking at her with pity which made her blood boil. “Morning? Hadina, it’s just gone three inthe afternoon. You’ve been passed out in a drunken stupor!” Realizing who he had raised his voice to, Harris adjusted his tone. “Your sister asked me to come over because she’s worried about you. Piper figured I could talk some sense into you, or at the very least you’d let me close enough to make sure you were okay.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Adrian,” Hadina snapped, starting to walk away from him. “Piper worries over nothing.”

“I wouldn’t callthis,” Adrian waved his hand in the air, gesturing to her appearance, “nothing. You’re clearly not coping.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Hadina, we can’t find Peyton and if we have any hope of finding her?—”

“I need to be on top of my game. I heard you the last fifty times. I know what I’m doing.¡No olvides quién es la jefa!”

Harris continued to talk but Hadina was done listening. She needed fresh air and to get away from the stifling concern of her family. She didn’t want to be mad at them just because they cared, but it was pissing her off the way they were watching her like she was a bomb waiting to blow.

Her father was the worst of them all. He felt so guilty that he was smothering her, constantly hovering around and apologizing over and over. Apologies didn’t make it better and it sure as fuck didn’t bring Peyton back to her. She needed space if he wanted forgiveness and even then, forgiveness was not hers to give.

Besides, his betrayal hurt worse than anything else. He had always preached about the importance of honesty and communication; family didn’t hide behind half truths and buried secrets. They had enough skeletons in their closet—almost literally, which really didn’t make it any better—so his lies cut deep. Hadina would have understood and she wouldhave found a way to tell Peyton without causing the heartbreak and devastation that the girl had suffered.

But he hadn’t given her that opportunity.

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