*****
The warehouse smelled of rust, oil, and decay—a fitting place for shattered dreams and desperation. Don Carlos walked ahead of me. His men flanked us, their faces hard and unyielding. My hands trembled, but I clasped them together tightly, trying to summon whatever courage I had left.
The room we entered was cavernous and eerily quiet, save for the faint dripping of water somewhere in the shadows. I spotted him almost immediately.
My father.
He was slumped against the far wall, chained and frail, his skin pale and stretched too thin over his frame. His head hung low, but as we entered, he lifted it weakly. His sunken eyes met mine, and for a moment, the years fell away. I wasn’t Mirella, The Raven. I was just Mirella, his daughter.
“Papi!” My voice cracked as I ran to him, the chains on my wrists clinking loudly.
The guards didn’t stop me, though one snorted as if amused by the pathetic reunion. My father used what little strength he had to open his arms, and I fell into them as much as the chains allowed. His touch was weak, trembling, but it was enough.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible. “For all of this. For everything.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
But I wasn’t sure I believed that.
“You two look so sweet,” Don Carlos interrupted, his tone dripping with mockery. “Such a touching reunion. Almost makes me regret what comes next.”
I pulled back from my father and turned to face him, my jaw tight. He ordered his men to chain me close to my father, and they obeyed. I didn’t bother fighting, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, but I do.” He stepped closer, his smile as sharp as a blade. “You thought you could outsmart me, Mirella? That I wouldn’t figure out who you are? Did you really think I didn’t have men in every corner of the earth?”
My heart sank, but I kept my face neutral. I couldn’t let him see how much his words rattled me.
“Let my father go. He’s no use to you,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
Don Carlos laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. “Nice try. But you see, he’s the perfect leverage. Just like your son.”
My stomach twisted. The mention of Alex made my chest tighten with panic. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep myself grounded.
“You leave my son out of this,” I said, my voice sharper now.
He raised an eyebrow, almost amused. “That depends on you. You have something I want, Mirella. Something you’ve been keeping from me all this time. The location of the safe. Tell me where it is, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let your father and son live.”
My heart pounded. I knew exactly what he meant. If I told him where it was, we were all as good as dead. But if I didn’t—
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, stalling for time.
His smile faded, replaced by cold calculation. “Don’t insult me, Mirella. I’m giving you a choice. Tell me, or I’ll start with your father. And then your son.”
The room felt colder. I glanced at my father, who shook his head weakly, his lips forming the word no.
“Even if I knew where it was,” I began, forcing a calm I didn’t feel, “what’s to stop you from killing us anyway?”
Don Carlos leaned against the desk, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “Do you really think I’d waste all this time and effort just to kill you? No, Mirella. I want what’s in that safe. And once I have it, maybe—if you behave—I’ll let you live. After all, I’d hate to hurt someone I…” He paused, his gaze flickering over me. “…care about.”
His words made my skin crawl. “Care about?” I let out a hollow laugh. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
He ignored me, his voice taking on a softer, almost nostalgic tone. “You remind me of her, you know. Jacqueline.”
The mention of her name made me stiffen.
“She was beautiful. Fierce. Just like you.” He smirked, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something almost human. “I loved her. But love doesn’t always save people, does it?”
“What are you saying?” My voice was quieter now, my pulse racing.