Page 26 of Reign

“YOU AREN’T GOING TO believe this,” Isabel says as she climbs back into the Ferrari I dropped her off in this morning. She skips hello altogether and dives right in to her morning with Joelle.

I pull away from the curb, calm and peaceful with her by my side. I’m thankful that I avoided another mistake with Camila. Truth be told, there was no temptation there other than to let her hands roam to ease her pain, but ultimately, I knew that wouldn’t solve anything and Isabel made it very clear that we were to keep our hands to ourselves.

Both of us. I refuse to take any liberties with that directive a second time.

I focus back on the woman next to me and realize what she’s saying. Finally absorbing her words. “Fuck, I’m so confused, Cas.”

I want to place my hand on her thigh seeking that connection, but I refrain. She’ll let me know when she’s ready. Until then, I’m working hard on not fucking this up. Nothing like a Russian tank to let you know you have some goddamn competition.

“You did great, Princess. We’re worlds closer than we were.”

She has a pouty, concerned look on her face as she stares out the window and I can see her brain processing the new information.

She starts ticking off facts from the passenger seat.

“Okay, so we know Nikita and Mateo are in business together. We know theygotinto business shortly after Nikita murdered my parents. And, you won’t believe this, but Joelle told me that Victoria was kidnapped andtraffickedwhen she was younger. That’s how she and Max ended up together. Heboughther.”

She’s talking a mile a minute as her stream of consciousness dumps this information in my lap. When her words finally catch up to me, I fight the urge to slam on the brakes.

“What did you just say?” I ask, before jumping to conclusions.

“I know! She was a victim of human trafficking! Can you believe it?”

It hits me. Like a ton of bricks. Only harder.

“That’s Mateo’s secret.” It comes out as a whisper.

“What?” She looks at me, taken aback. Drug wars and cartel violence are somehow easier to tolerate and understand than kidnapping and selling people into slavery, so I can see how this is a struggle to comprehend.

I choose my next words carefully and slowly so she has time to let them settle.

“Lib, you weren’tadoptedby Sam and Renee Baker. You weresoldto them.”

Sure, he may have done it to save her life so she didn’t end up in the hands of my parents, but what if she was the first of Mateo’s victims? I think back to what Nikita said earlier:From that day on, Daniella would belong to me and once she was older, I’d collect.

Pieces start falling in place.

That’s how Mateo spread his empire and his wealth in the US. It wasn’t drugs. It was girls. Which is why my parents never picked up on it. I’m guessing it’s also the real reason the Bratva won’t come after us for offing Nikita on Mateo’s orders – Mateo supplies them with exotic women for their homes, clubs, and wives. And as for choosing now to go after Nikita? If word got back to him that “Daniella” was back in Venezuela, he was concerned that Nikita would come for her and my guess is Mateo doesn’t want Nikita anywhere near him. So, he sentusto Nikita. Either I would die or Nikita would, but Isabel would be safe and Mateo’s debt would either be fulfilled or die along with Nikita. Letting Mateo off the hook.

That motherfucker.

I’m going to fuckingendMateo Santos.

Nikita just got himself a partner in crime.

Thirteen

Libby/Daniella/Isabel

FOR A MOMENT, I FORGET how to breathe. My own fathersold me?Immediately, more rage begins to build inside me. Although this time, it flares briefly before fizzling out. Yes, this news is devastating, but Mateo hardly has a reputation for being a loving father…or my father at all for that matter. Despite their flaws and shady adoption process, I believe Sam and Renee loved me and that’s all I’m choosing to hold on to anymore. I’ve compartmentalized Mateo as being from Dominic’s world and not a true member of my own. More time will need to pass before the two worlds merge in my head.

~

THE NEXT FORTY-EIGHT hours have us in a holding pattern. I reached out to Joelle shortly after Cas picked me up and asked her to tell her brother that we’ve agreed to help him, but instead of elaborating or inviting us over to put together a plan, she just textedOk. I haven’t heard anything since.

With nothing to do but hurry up and wait, I figured I might as well do it with a buzz, so Camila, Cas, and I came out to the beach. We’re enjoying a rare moment not fraught with tension. I’ve thought a lot about Joelle’s words at brunch.Maybe it’s less about them thinking you need them to help you and more about them wanting to help you.

I scoot closer to the edge of my towel, bend my knees, and start to dig my toes in the sand. I’ve missed this feeling. The soft grains slip between my toes as I plunge them in farther, the sand getting cooler the deeper I go. I close my eyes and take a sip of the red wine sangria we brought out in a large pitcher in the cooler. The sun keeps peeking out from behind the clouds and warming my face.

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