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“And then we’re going to win this war.”
Cat’s big brown eyes shimmer as she tries to buy into my confidence. I don’t blame her doubt. So much has fallen apart that even I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to put it back together again. All I can do is press forward.
Finally, Cat seems to win her little self-battle, if even just for the time being. “How?”
My knuckles whiten as I clench my fists. Visions of what I’m going to do to all those who’ve crossed us turn my eyes red. “You see that plane?” I say, turning around so that she can see past me. “It’s going to visit our old friend, Cyrus Kane. He can’t spare any men right now—he’s fighting his own wars—but him and the Rio Syndicate, along with a Russian friend I made in Paris, are sending us some army-busting equipment. They see our chaos as an opportunity; they know we can win and take over an entire country.”
A humid breeze crosses us and Cat seems to consider my words. “... Do you think we can win?”
I don’t hesitate. “I know we can.” For some reason, in this moment, there’s no doubt in me. We will win. We have to.
“And if we don’t?” Cat seems to be fighting herself more than she’s fighting me now. I want to reach out and comfort her, but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. There’s still so much blame to be passed around, and I’m sure she blames herself just as much as she blames me.
“We will,” I growl.
A long sigh escapes Cat’s lips as I turn away from the idling jet and back to her. “... You still don’t know about my family...” she whispers.
That seems like the least of our worries right now. I remember searching for info on Cat back when we first crossed paths and not finding anything, but once shit got crazy, I stopped looking. She was an orphan, like me, and that was enough.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask.
Cat’s eyes are downcast and her sharp features have turned so heavy. The fire that just sparked behind her somber mask already seems to have been smothered. “Not everyone gets their happy endings, Angel. My family didn’t. Who’s to say we will?”
I don’t like this fatalistic talk, not when our son is still in so much danger. “Your family were victims,” I sneer. “We’re not.”
Cat shakes her head softly. “They weren’t victims,” she whispers. “They were just like you.”
“There isn’t any one like me,” I growl.
“Not anymore.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
In a second, Cat’s eyes are back on me. Something’s changed; there’s a blue fire behind her fractured hazel, but I can’t tell if it’s dead or alive. “My father ran his own cartel. He did horrible things, but he was a good father...”
It almost sounds like she’s talking about me. “What was his name?”
“Alejandro Alzate...”
The name does sound oddly familiar. “I’ve never heard of him,” I lie.
“That’s because he was murdered while we were still just kids. My whole family was wiped out. Now, it’s almost like they never existed at all... I don’t want that to happen to us, Angel...” Her voice breaks when she says my name.
My heart kicks at the thought of what she’s been through. It turns out that Cat grew up closer to my dark world than I knew... and she was still trying to escape from it when I dragged her back in.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” There I go, apologizing again—but the vengeful streak in me only grows with the new information. “Do you know who was responsible?”
“All I know is that they were Americans.”
Americans. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up. From what I know about Enzo Barella, he’s old enough to have played a hand in the destruction of Cat’s family. I swear to god, if he was involved in that...
... Then what?
How could I be any madder at the man who corrupted my brother and conspired to steal my son?
I somehow manage. My infinite fury only grows under all the rage of what my family has been forced to face; and not just in the past, but in the present and for the foreseeable future, as well.
It’s gone on long enough.