Page 114 of Masked Hearts

I suggest you hold onto whatever stupid sense of hope you have left and start praying.

I do just that because hope is the only thing I have right now. Hope to see my mamá again, hope to see Mattia again, fuck, even hope to see my annoying brothers again.

I have hope that despite everything, I might get to see Theá again and get the chance to talk about all of this. Hopefully, it will be doneunder different circumstances.

That’s when I realise, right here in the stupid back seat of some random car going fuck-knows-where, I want it all. I want everything I thought I didn’t. I want the real wedding. I want the happy family. I want to come home from work to my gorgeous wife reading in her library. And more than anything, I want it with Theá Auclair. I want to make her Theá Vitale. For real this time.

Immediately, as the prayer leaves my lips, I feel my consciousness slipping more and more. My head gets heavier, my breathing slows, and I repeat her name in my head over and over again because that’s all I want. Another chance.

Screeches echo through my distorted hearing, and the car makes impact with something massive, throwing my already frail body around the inside of the car.

Heavy breathing from everyone around me is loud as I feel what I assume is blood dripping down the side of my head before I’m yanked from wherever I am.

“Va tutto bene, fra, siamo con te.”

And with that, I let go. They’ve got me.

Chapter forty-three

Theá

Weeventuallygetthroughcustoms, and when we do, I’m exhausted. Not only physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Finding everything out while on the flight, trapped with my brother, was the worst way I could’ve been told. Throw in Noelle’s moods, and I was ready to jump without a parachute just with the hopes of escaping it all.

“What’s your big plan now, dearest brother?” Noelle asks sarcastically as she crosses her arms across her chest.

We’re all exhausted as I notice the bags that have deepened under Pierre’s eyes. He must be bottling up a lot of stress, and I can only imagine the millions of things he needs to coordinate right now. In all honesty, I’m surprised we even got as far as we have. I was expecting someone to snatch us up from the airport already. Hell, I have no idea how Pierre even managed to get Noelle out of school without raising red flags with the cartel.

Unless they were all really that consumed with finding Antonio and me.

“Zara.”

I furrow my brows, and it takes me a second to realise it’s Pierre calling me from a nearby car. I change my expression before anyone nearby can notice, jogging up to them and hopping in the taxi alongside my sister.

“Where are we going?”

“You shouldn’t zone out like that; you lose all sense of reality. Josh said something about a friend of his,” Noelle responds, using Pierre’s fake name.

“Camps Bay.”

The taxi driver’s eyes widen a bit before he chuckles. “Ja, nee. Julle foreigners is almal dieselfde.”

“What was that?” Pierre asks, clearly sensing something from the man’s tone.

“Oh nothing, I was just saying it’s a far drive and you should get comfortable.” He changes his tone as Pierre throws a few hundred Euros on the seat.

“Make it as quick as you can, then.”

The driver takes Pierre’s suggestion incredibly seriously and, from the signs, we’re in Camps Bay or at least in the vicinity within less than twenty minutes. The view as the car travels up along the side of the gigantic flat-topped mountain is insane, especially when the ocean comes into view.

I wouldn’t mind living here if this was the view I got to see every day. At least Pierre had some taste when picking our new residential area. The houses are massive, but the class difference of areas is insane. From the shacks we saw near the airport that had me questioning every single one of his decisions to the mansions that surround us now less than twenty minutes later, there are some deeper problems with this city.

The car pulls up outside a huge white house, and my mouth gapes in disbelief. This could put my father’s manor to shame, easily. It’s clear whoever Pierre has brought us to has some serious money.

The previously suspicious driver now eagerly helps us with our bags, and Pierre hands him a few more notes. “If anyone asks you, you never saw anyone who looked like us.”

The driver nods quickly and jumps back into his car, zooming down the steep road we just climbed.

“Maybe this won’t be that bad after all,” Noelle says as she stares at the massive house.

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