Page 31

Demi

T he familiar Chicago skyline welcomed me and Ozias with open arms. I was finally home. Yet, home had never felt so unfamiliar, so cold before. I felt just as foreign on U.S. soil as I did when I first arrived in Mexico.

Everything about being back felt different—more intimate, yet tethered to Ozias’s dark world and the ghost of my father. As the armored car pulled up to his Midwest office, I stepped out and placed my hand in his. A wave of curiosity washed over me as soon as we stepped into the building.

The office space was polished and contemporary, and every employee we passed greeted us with reverence as if we were the king and queen.

Their glances toward me were expected but still felt unnatural as if they were marveling at me from behind a bulletproof glass.

With my fingers laced with his, I walked at his side as he effortlessly trekked across the marble floor, oozing his typical manner of confidence and command.

Still, Ozias was quick to make me feel included.

I found my brain flooding with questions—wondering about all the nuts and bolts of his operation and comparing it to what I knew about my father’s.

Ozias’s entire operation was far more streamlined, but I still found myself brainstorming ideas on how to make the process even more seamless and even potential opportunities for expansion—things my father would’ve never allowed my input on.

Before I knew it, I was saying my thoughts out loud as we walked.

Ozias listened attentively, a noticeable shift from the shooing off or shooting down I would’ve received if my father had been on the receiving end.

“You’ve got a knack for this business shit, huh?” Ozias mentioned as a slight smirk crept up one side of his mouth.

“Yeah, I do,” I replied with a light shrug.

His nod of approval was all I needed to see to know he valued my input. “Let’s see what we can do about implementing some of your ideas.”

“Seriously?” I quizzed, brows heightened.

“You’re the queen of my world now, Demi. You don’t need my permission to act like it.”

Later, as we drove back toward the hotel, Ozias cleared his throat, his voice slightly softening as he spoke. “There’s one more stop I thought we might make before we head back to the hotel.”

“Where?” I questioned.

“Graceland Cemetery, to your family’s estate lot. There’s something I need to show you.”

My heart chilled at his words. I hadn’t stepped foot in that cemetery in years.

My father used to take me there yearly on my mother’s birthday, but over time the visits stopped and I didn’t bother to pick up the tradition on my own.

It always felt like I was visiting a stranger.

I never got to meet her and only knew what she looked like through photos.

The idea of facing my family’s lot after already losing so much gavemy stomach a sick churn.

But there was something in the way he looked at me—the sincerity behind his deep-set eyes that showed how much he cared. I couldn’t stop myself from nodding.

The black car began to slow before rolling to a halt just outside the well-manicured lawn and iron cemetery gates.

I barely heard the soft crunch of gravel under the tires over the erratic thumping of my heartbeat.

Ozias reached over, gently placing his warm hand over mine to stop the trembling I hadn’t even noticed was happening.

“You ready?”

I nodded before reaching for the door handle and stepping out. My eyes stretched across the rows of gray headstones that seemed to stretch on forever. The graveyard was quiet, an eerie reminder that we were enveloped by death.

As we trekked slowly, side by side up the winding path toward the Malone estate, the weight on my chest grew heavier, making it even harder to breathe.

Elaine, Cyrus, Dominic—the familiar names of my parents and cousin etched into the headstones triggered an emotional wave of memories I wasn’t sure I was prepared to feel.

I stood there, allowing myself to feel the loss of my mother, my best friend, my cousin, my unborn baby, and my father’s unexpected betrayal—all of it came crashing down on me at once.

Before I knew it, my face was wet with hot, frantic tears I hadn’t realized I’d spilled.

Trying to hold them back was useless. The levee had already been broken, releasing years of trauma, grief, unrepressed anger, resentment, and heartbreak.

My knees felt hollow, fading in strength. Ozias was right there to anchor me, using his strong arms to steady and comfort me.“I’ve got you, mi amor ,” he whispered.

I wept with no attempt at concealment. It was loud, ugly, and freeing. I didn’t give a fuck how I looked. I felt every drop of sorrow I thought I’d buried deep. The teardrops continued to multiply nonstop, and Ozias remained. His comforting presence was a silent witness to my heartache.

When the tears finally stopped, I wiped my eyes, smearing my mascara even more. I blinked a few times, clearing away the tears in time to catch movement in the distance. I froze, instantly rooting myself where I stood. I couldn’t take my eyes off the figure with the familiar silhouette of a woman.

My breath hitched as I clutched Ozias’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I-I think I . . . is that . . . that’s impossible . . .” I whispered as my heart raced.

I tried not to let my mind run free with wild, impossible thoughts, but it was useless.

Everything about the woman’s silhouette seemed familiar, including the way she stood with her weight resting more on one leg than the other.

Iron bands tightened across my chest. Is it?

No. It can’t. Can it? Without a second thought, I took a cautious step forward.

My lips parted, and I called out with a tone laced with hesitance. “Samara?”

For a moment, everything went silent as if I’d gone completely deaf. But then the frame turned and began to move closer, revealing a face I assured myself I’d never lay eyes on again.

Samara—the one I hadn’t mourned adequately after everything that happened in Mexico. Yet there she was, in front of me, alive and in the flesh.

Instantly, my eyes misted over with fresh tears, and I let out a squelched sob. I slipped my hand out of Ozias’s and broke out into a sprint, trying to close the space between us as quickly as possible.

Samara’s arms opened wide, engulfing me in a hug as our bodies collided in an embrace so intense it seemed to erase all the grief that had taken over me since she’d been gone.

“A-are you r-real? I . . . I thought y-you were . . .” Tears garbled my words as I held the sides of her face, eyes soaking her in to make sure she was real and I wasn’t hallucinating from heartache.

“It’s me, Demi. I’m here,” she confirmed.

“W-where have you been all this t-time? What h-happened after Mexico? I thought you were dead!” I cried out as the words continued to spill off my lips between my blinding tears. I refused to let her go, afraid she might disappear again.

Samara drew in a trembling breath while looking over her shoulder at Ozias, who was slowly making his way toward us.

“If I’m being honest, it’s really all a blur.

After that morning yoga session, the next thing I remember is waking up in a private hospital room with a woman sitting next to my bed.

She told me I was in Texas and said someone found me and brought me there unconscious.

That’s when I found out what happened to my cousin .

. . and h-her bridesmaids. I thought you were dead too, until I found out Ozias was the one who arranged for me to be spared because of my connection to you.

I was so weak and so broken. I didn’t know who to trust or what to do.

It took me a while, but when I finally accepted things for what they were, they arranged for me to fly back home if I delivered a message to your father. ”

I twisted my neck back in the direction of Ozias, who was standing a few feet away. “What message?” I questioned, voice cracking.

“That you were his, and he was never letting you go. I’ve been laying low ever since.

I knew things wouldn’t go well. I swear to God I wanted to reach out to you to make sure you were safe or even to warn you, but I was scared out of my fucking mind.

I know he’s had people watching me this entire time. ”

“Who?”

“El Diablo,” she said, the sound of his name sounding like more of a warning than anything else.

Still, her words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, refusing to register in my brain. The only thing I had the ability to absorb was the fact that my best friend was alive. I hadn’t lost her. All the other shit I could figure out another day.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I mumbled, pulling her in for another tight hug.

The heaviness in my heart that had once seemed eternal began to ease for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

“You didn’t lose me, but you did marry the devil,” she warned, slowly pulling away and stationing her eyes on Ozias.

I turned back to face him, knowing some parts of her statement were true.

But when I looked at him, I didn’t see the devil or a monster.

All I saw was the man who’d spared my best friend and would slay dragons and burn down the world for me whether I asked him to or not.

He’d shown me love by sticking by my?side even when the world was crumbling around me.

That hadn’t gone unnoticed, but I didn’t have time to explain every part of our twisted love story in detail to her.

“Listen, I know I had my doubts in the beginning, but he’s not all bad. We’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time, and he’s protected me through it all. And now, I can protect you, Mara. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”