Page 81 of Shot For Mercy

The fight has left my body.

“Are you sure you have no answers?” Sokolov asks once more.

“I’m sure,” I say through gritted teeth, looking down into the murky water.

My head is pushed down into the water, my upper body following, and this time I let myself scream from the pain of the wounds on my back. My tears mix with the water, and I swallow some of it right before I’m yanked up, not being given the chance to try to drown myself.

Shame.

It’s a fucking shame.

I cough and sputter as I break the surface once more, and Sokolov laughs. I hear the guards chuckling in the background too, and I close my eyes and inhale deeply right before I’m pushed under the water once more.

This time I make sure to inhale, letting water go deep into my lungs. But not without some regrets.

I’m sorry Em.

Sorry for everything.

Sorry for not being strong enough.

It’s been exactly forty hours since Cole was taken, and I haven’t slept a fucking wink. Matteo said that Natasha was going to give him the information on one condition—that she come to us in person to discuss it. At my penthouse. My fucking home. I almost called it off, almost told him to tell her to go fuck herself. I don’t want her to know where I live, what my space looks like. I don’t want her to see the life Cole and I have built, but I’m desperate. My strength is waning with every hour that passes, and something tells me that Cole is closer to death than he was yesterday. If he’s not already dead.

I can’t fucking stand it—the thoughts swirling through my mind the longer he’s gone. I’ve never felt this weak in my entire life. But isn’t that what love does to you? Makes you weak? Fucked up? It sure as hell is making me feel that way. What if Natasha is secretly against us? What if she tries to kill us? It’s not like she’s ever cared about Matteo. She has never reached out to try to get in contact with him. Has never even asked about how he’s doing. She just…disappeared.

Here she is, though, on her way to my home, probably happy about the fact that I’m fucking falling apart at the seams. Matteo is pacing my living room, I’m standing near the elevator, and my brothers are just lounging on the couch like they own it. As if my life isn’t falling apart. They’re the picture of calm. I’ve considered that maybe they’re doing this on purpose, to keep me calm, but it just pisses me off even more. I want them to share my pain, not appear nonchalant. But I know that’s a big ask. They’re probably pissed at him for hurting me. And Iamhurt. Probably beyond repair.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to us once I rescue him. But I have to go get him. I can’t just let him die. At the end of the day, he is the love of my life, even if I’m not his. I can’t deny that I’ve already been mourning him. I’ve been in bed, unable to get up to shower or eat. I’m weak. I know I need to get my shit together now that Natasha is coming with information, but it’s hard to do when it feels like my world is in shambles.

If it weren’t for Alessandro staying with me this whole time, I don’t know what I would’ve done. While he hasn’t been able to force me to shower or shove the food he makes down my throat, he has been understanding and compassionate. He has treated me like he knows what it feels like to have his heart broken, and yet that can’t be right. He has never had a partner before. Not anyone that I’m aware of. Yet he has sat with me on the couch with my head on his lap, fingers threading through my hair as he soothes me when I sob. It’s almost like when we were children all over again. He was always the one taking care of me instead of the other way around. Sometimes I think he should’ve been the eldest. Should’ve been the head of this family. But I got stuck with something I’ve never wanted, and now here I am. With nothing left.

None of it matters. This empire doesn’t matter to me, especially not if I can’t share it with Cole. I used to think my businesses and Matteo were all I needed in my life. I wasn’t happy, but I was content with it all. Resigned. But I was wrong—so very, very wrong. None of it makes sense without him anymore. Maybe I’ll retire and move away. Cut my losses, take my money, and disappear. God knows it’ll destroy me to see him with my son again, and isn’t that what he wants? Fuck, that kiss was telling. He can deny it all he wants, but I saw it. My eyes have been opened. Not to mention what my son said to me.

He loves me too.

I should’ve known it wasn’t one-sided. That he reciprocated Matteo’s feelings. Now that I know…I can’t forget about it. I don’t know how to move on from it. Don’t know how to live with this knowledge. All I can hope for is that he’s alive and can be happy with whoever he chooses, even if it’s not me.

My buzzer is loud, telling me Natasha is here, and just for the briefest of moments, I hesitate. I remember her twenty years ago and how beautiful and nice she was, but that image crumbled the moment she handed over our child. And now what? She wants to come play house? Fuck that and fuck her. But I can’t deny that I need her. In this moment, I’ll let go of my pride and worry about the end result. Getting Cole back. She has information; she told Matteo as much before he invited her here. So I’m going to shove my ego way down deep and give her a chance.

I let her in, and a moment later, she appears in my elevator. My brothers are quiet as she steps into the penthouse, and I look over at Matteo to see his reaction. His eyes are wide as he takes in his mother in the flesh, and she smiles softly at him. She looks almost the same, as if she’s only aged a few years rather than two decades. Her white-blonde hair is loose down her back, styled with curls, and she’s wearing a tan wool coat around her form, clad with stilettos. Some things never change.

Natasha seems completely unbothered by the fact that her father is going to die. In fact, she seems eager for it. Which I guess makes sense. She probably hasn’t been treated well over the years. He forced her to marry some creep, for fuck’s sake. A man older than her by thirty years, who she was engaged to since she was a fucking child. Disgusting. I thank my lucky stars that I don’t have a daughter. I’d probably have a lot of men jumping at the chance of an arranged marriage.

Matteo walks toward her and engulfs her in a hug, her small form almost disappearing between his arms. She’s tall but slender, and I can’t deny that a lump forms in my throat at the sight. I don’t know why I suddenly feel emotional, but if my son wants this—wants her in his life—then I have to be supportive. I guess she’s not too bad if she’s helping me get my fiancé back. Then again, maybe she’s only helping us because Matteo loves Cole. Not because of me. Yeah, that would make more sense.

She pulls away from his hug and smiles up at him, then turns on her heel and faces me. Her smile widens, and she comes to me and gives me a hug, too. She smells like flowers, smells so wrong, but I hug her back because it feels like I have to. I’ve never hated her, not really. She gave me the best gift I could’ve ever asked for. My son.

“Natasha,” I say softly as she pulls away from me. “Thanks for coming.”

She nods. “Well, my son called me, and I couldn’t say no.”

I almost ask her when she’s ever cared about him, but I bite my tongue until I taste blood. Now is not the time to question her. Now is the time to get information out of her.Swallow your fucking pride.

“Do you know where he is?” Matteo asks, and she turns toward all of us. “Did you find him?”

“Of course I did.” She grins. “Or I wouldn’t be here.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I ask her, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you helping us?”

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