A Beauty So Cruel Manuscript (2)

by Alone Eagle

  “Give me the gun, Doll,” he murmured reaching for it.

  I stepped away from him.

  He looked at me with confusion before giving me teasing smile that touched my torn heart. “You know how to use that? It’s not a toy.”

  It broke my heart how much he had trusted me.

  He raised his eyebrows at me before his eyes darted around the room that was slowly becoming surrounded by police and DEA agents. Then, he narrowed his eyes on me.

  “Give me the gun now, tesoro mio.”

  My treasure.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled slowly.

  “I’m so sorry, Vlad,” I whispered.

  Then, I stepped back, further away from him and pointed his own gun at his chest.

  Vlad’s soft gray eyes took in my tears before it dropped to the cocked and loaded gun that I gripped, my finger ready to pull the trigger and shoot him. He didn’t speak one word. Not one word at all. He still looked at me confused, not understanding what was going on.

  It hurt me. It hurt me so much to see him like this.

  This wasn’t how it should have ended.

  “You okay?” an officer stood next to me, pointing a gun at Vlad.

  “Yes,” I replied, meeting Vlad’s gaze. I let out a ragged breath, silently praying I would be okay. I had been preparing for this for the past six months, but now the moment was here, it was a hollow victory.

  Vlad was still looking at me, maybe waiting for an explanation. He didn’t seem to care about the police and how many guns were pointing at him. Over fifteen officers were surrounding us, forming a circle. His attention stayed on me as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Even in this chaos, I was his center of attention. I exhaled slowly before meeting his gaze. I felt empty now. The happiness I felt moments ago was gone now. It was replaced with a hopeless feeling now. I wished I could have shown him mercy like he had shown me. He was bound to his world, just as I was loyal to mine.

  I exhaled slowly before meeting his gaze. I felt empty now. The happiness I felt moments ago was gone, and the memories I was making now would haunt me forever.

  “My name is Dahlia Hadid, Vlad,” I spoke clearly.

  He blinked at me slowly, narrowing his eyes at me.

  Then, I dropped the bomb.

  “Agent Dahlia Hadid. I work for the DEA. I was assigned to bring you in.”

  His eyes widened at me in disbelief. Then, they turned accusatory before changing to pure hurt. So many vivid emotions passed through his eyes in just a few seconds.

  I hated myself for hurting him, so much so it threatened to consume me. I had called my task force chief, the DEA director Miran Demir who now stood straight and tall next to me in his black clothes and a bulletproof jacket. He was here because of me. I had alerted him.

  It was the phone call in the car. I had dialed the secret three-digit code for emergencies to reach Miran *268. I hadn’t spoken on it. Gabriele had. He had said the address of the place where we were going. My chief and I had been planning this for a long time.

  To catch Vlad red-handed.

  Today a deal had happened.

  It was the perfect opportunity.

  We’d needed to catch him in the act to build up evidence.

  Just then Miran ordered Vlad, “Put your hands in the air and drop down to your knees. Vlad Vitalli you’re being arrested for drug trafficking, for selling illegal controlled substances, 3.5 million dollars’ worth of cocaine. We saw you live, and we have it caught on tape and audio.”

  Miran was still speaking as he read Vlad his rights.

  But Vlad only kept staring at me. His eyes were filled with water, and he swallowed hard.

  Was he crying? I didn’t know if I could bear it.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed hard. Then, he looked away from me as if he couldn’t stand looking at me any longer.

  He looked away.

  I wasn’t worthy of his eyes anymore. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much, but it really did. This was supposed to have been easy.

  But I’d never expected my captor to turn merciful.

  It made it so much harder to hate him.

  It made it so much harder to bring him in.

  Just then, Vlad’s red-rimmed eyes stared at me, accusing me.

  “You betrayed me, Dahlia,” he whispered at last.

  His voice cracked.

  My breath was caught in my throat.

  I would never forget how his voice sounded just then.

  He had never said my name before.

  He’d always called me Doll.

  It stung, that he’d chosen to use my name instead of his nickname for me.

  He kneeled before me now, no longer able to look at me.

  The first time he had done knelt before me was to show me the honor of respect, while I’d stood half-naked in front of him.

  This wasn’t the same man that I’d grown to know so well.

  This Vlad looked broken and utterly defeated now as he surrendered to the authorities.

  He was right about something though.

  I am a beauty so cruel.

  He was my ruin. My reckoning. My utter destruction.

  Something else had broken tonight besides Vlad.

  My soul.

  34

  Chapter 34

  Seventeen years old, eight years ago

  “It’s not your fault,” the officer said softly to me.

  His deep, lightly accented voice caught my attention.

  I looked up at him, still bloody, and still naked. He was an older man, perhaps in his early twenties, and I was afraid he would take advantage of the situation too. Shame hit me. My arms were crossed over my bare chest as I curled up in a tight ball on the floor.

  After I had killed my foster guardian in self-defense, I had called the police saying I needed help.

  They had sent a cop who was now in front of me.

  He was tall. So much taller than me, and he had black hair that curled behind his ears. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, but I could see his gun tucked at his side. Maybe he was off duty when I had called. It was late. Three in the morning.

  He reached for me and I whimpered, afraid again.

  The officer froze.

  “You’re safe with me,” he reassured me.

  I didn’t want to trust him.

  Then, the man bent down to my eye level, keeping his distance from me. “He can’t hurt you again,” the officer promised me. “What’s your name kid?”

  I chewed on my trembling lower lip, unsure if I should tell him.

  “I’m Dahlia,” I replied after a moment.

  He offered me a sad smile. Then, he took off the leather jacket that he wore over his white shirt and wrapped it around my bare shoulders, cloaking me with it.

  My eyes filled with tears at the gesture, and I met his warm, honey-brown eyes.

  I didn’t see a predator.

  He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  A dimple appeared then.

  “I’m Miran.”

  ❖

  The man, Miran, took one look at the state I was in after my assault and helped me cover up the crime.

  The murder I had committed.

  I hadn’t asked him to. He had just begun doing it on his own.

  “We need to get rid of the body.”

  I looked up at him, confused.

  “I know a place where no one goes,” he continued speaking, but it was low now, as if he was speaking to himself and not to me.

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked him.

  Miran was shuffling around, wiping the floors now, cleaning the blood.

  He was a bloody mess… like me.

  Two fish in the same pond.

  “I can’t let you go to jail for this.”

  My breathing hitched now.

  “I see rape victims every day. The thing that will happen next is that you’ll go to hospital and have to go through a rape kit.”

  My eyes widened. I
hadn’t thought about that.

  “You were hurt yet you will still have to prove it, as if the bruises on you aren’t enough. Then they will photograph those same bruises.”

  My eyes darted from him to the red bite marks on my skin and the bruises of punches and kicks on my stomach.

  “You might feel violated all over again. The attack doesn’t just end here.”

  I closed my eyes at that.

  “You could still claim self-defense, but there might be a trial. The charges might be dismissed, but there will always be a case file that says “suspect.” It’ll be all over the media. Your name will be tarnished. People will always look at you the wrong way for the rest of your life.”

  I opened my eyes and listened attentively to his words. He was right. Rape victims didn’t just have to survive the rape. They also had to deal with the aftermaths of it.

  “No one has to know how you have suffered. I’ve seen the way people look at victims afterwards… Some look with pity, others judge and find fault. You don’t have to go through that. You have your whole life in front of you. You’re too young. If the man was alive, I would’ve been the first one to say fight him in court no matter what.”

  I stayed still and stared at the ground.

  “But Dahlia, he’s not, the man who hurt you is dead. You don’t need a trial anymore. You don’t have to fight anymore. You punished him already. He deserved it. You can start over. But you need to choose now.”

  I held my breath at his words, at his kindness. While I thought, Miran sighed.

  “Fuck, kid. I just know that you deserve better. A clean slate.” He sounded sincere. “Tell me, are you ready for all that?” Miran asked me quietly.

  I wasn’t. I just wanted to forget about all of this.

  I looked up, meeting his hazy eyes, and shook my head.

  35

  Chapter 35

  Present, one month later

  My name is Dahlia Hadid.

  I had never given a fake name.

  I was the undercover DEA agent who betrayed the Don of one the ruling Five Families of New York.

  I had been working with the DEA for five years, since I was twenty-one years old, an awfully young age to start.

  The cop who found me at the scene of my foster father’s death was Miran. He wasn’t part of the DEA back then but a police detective. He was the one who taught me Arabic and helped me take college classes. Miran was both Arab and Turkish. He was six years my senior. When he had found me, I was about to turn eighteen and I was discharged from the foster care system. He’d found me on the streets with my luggage. I didn’t know where to go until he took me in. I didn’t know why he took me in, maybe he felt pity for me.

  He didn’t look at me like the rest of the men did. He was the only one who didn’t. It made me curious about him, intrigued. He’d been twenty-four when he found me, now he was in his early thirties.

  Not long after giving me a roof over my head, he began working for the DEA. Then, he trained me to work with him when I finished college.

  It gave me a motive. To remove crime from the world.

  Miran wanted to arrest them for drug laundering, the DEA’s main purpose. We began working with the FBI since our jurisdictions overlapped.

  We began by digging deep into the Vitalli family. I wanted to remove them first because they were so heavily involved in brothel rings and human trafficking. An alarming number of women were disappearing in the United States, and we knew they were responsible for it. We just didn’t have enough evidence to arrest them.

  It became my mission.

  Sexual violence. I couldn’t stand it.

  I stared at him now as I sat in front of him in his office.

  Miran Demir.

  That was his full name. We were both Arabs. Maybe that’s why we had bonded over the years. He was probably my only friend. I wouldn’t call us best friends, but we weren’t just colleagues either.

  We had an unspoken bond. A bond of protection.

  He was tall, a staggering six-feet-three. He still looked large as he was bent over his desk, going through paperwork. His beard was neatly trimmed and styled, yet heavy. He hadn’t had one when I had first met him. Miran had light golden skin. He was stocky with thick, black hair. He didn’t talk much either. He was consumed by his work, always had been, maybe that’s why he had never married.

  He caught me looking at him and gave me a small smile. “You did a great job on bringing Vlad Vitalli in,” he said, his voice deep with an air of respect.

  He still had a light Middle Eastern, poetic accent even after all these years. He was fluent in English, but the slight tang of an accent still lingered regardless. He was born in the States, but he had moved to Turkey with his mother before returning when he was thirteen.

  I didn’t return his smile.

  I felt numb.

  Vlad.

  I didn’t want to hear another mention of that name.

  The guilt was too heavy already in my cold heart.

  Capturing the mob boss assignment was given to me months before Vlad had caught me watching his men kill someone. I’d planted myself in his path at the ball, but I hadn’t expected to witness a murder. After Emilio Valentino had called him Don at the Valentine’s Day masquerade ball, I had been watching Vlad like a hawk and followed him outside.

  At that time, I was alone, a night off without the backup of the DEA like if I had of been on duty. I hadn’t known there was a deal going on. We didn’t have any intel that time …unlike this recent ball. All I knew was that it was a gathering place for the wealthy, and I had assumed Vlad would be there. I was hoping to run into him, it had always been my intention was to get close to him.

  I hadn’t planned on witnessing a murder. I didn’t even know there was going to be one. And everything that happened after was history.

  I had hope that I might be able to start a relationship with Vlad the natural way. A chance encounter of two people meeting. It would have been safer for me.

  Miran and I had never prepared for me to be kidnapped. That was very risky. I could have died. I was grateful I was still alive. That was true fear that night. I wasn’t acting. I had prepared myself to get violated all over again, but then Vlad had surprised me.

  He had left me untouched.

  He wasn’t the evil man Miran had prepared me for. I had expected a cold-blooded killer and a rapist. Someone who fit the image of what I had imagined. I couldn’t bring myself to willingly touch him, even though it was my job to seduce him and get intel. I hadn’t planned on touching him in the shower even, but his concern for me had pulled me to him.

  And I couldn’t stop myself.

  I never seduced him.

  His mind seduced me instead.

  Things just happened on their own.

  “You have a new assignment.”

  I sighed deeply, frustrated now. Then, I threw my hands in the air. “I thought I might take a break.”

  “You’ve taken a month off already.”

  Miran was always so curt and short.

  I fiddled with my fingers, debating how to get out of this assignment.

  He sighed before he began speaking. I knew he had something rehearsed that I would have a hard time saying ‘no’ to.

  “Vlad Vitalli is being kept in a maximum security prison cell.” Miran continued, “No one can go in or out without my permission. We have enough evidence to put him on trial. Many of his men are dead from the fight that occurred with the Moretti family. There were many casualties that night.” I cringed at that, even though they were all criminals, it sat heavy in my heart that I was the reason why they had died. “We caught a few of his other men, although, his cousin Gabriele Vitalli escaped.”

  I nodded, already knowing this information. Gabriele was the right-hand. I assumed he would run the mob now that Vlad was detained.

  “His remaining men will either assume you were also arrested by the police or perhaps that you ran away. No one knows abou
t your truth except Vlad and us. I’ve kept you hidden. No one has seen you. At the ball, the police who saw you don’t know who you were. They didn’t hear what you had said to Vlad that night.”

  My eyes shot up at his words.

  And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen.

  He had found a way in.

  Damn Arabs. So hot-blooded and stubborn, and I’d thought Italians were bad.

  Then Miran continued, “No one knows, not even my other agents, that you work for me, only I do. I’ve kept your identity off the books. I know some of the DEA and FBI is involved with the mob. Your safety and identity are important to me. I will always protect you.”

  I glanced up at him, intrigued now.

  “If I could have sent another one of the female DEA agents, I would have, but many said no because it was too risky. You were my first choice to send but the last person I’ve asked because of your…” He exhaled slowly before continuing, “Your past. Many are family women. For some, it didn’t sit right cheating on their partner and whoring for the mob boss.”

  I tried not to wince at the word, whoring. I had never felt like that when Vlad and I were together.

  Miran noticed my reaction. Then, he whispered, “Sorry.”

  My eyes glanced up at him.

  “Sleeping with the mob boss,” he corrected himself.

  I nodded at him, appreciating the correction.

  “You have no family. No relatives. No friends. You’re a loner. Practically a ghost. You’re the perfect agent for this.”

  I sighed again and cheekily asked, smiling.

  “Aren’t you my friend?”

  His eyes turned warm before grimly replying, “I’m your only friend.”

  I slumped in my chair, now staring at the ceiling.

  “We talked about this before. You have no weaknesses. They can’t hold anything against you but you.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, to argue with him, but Miran wasn’t done.

  “I know you have triggers.”

  I pressed my lips together. He knew everything about my past, but he didn’t know about my present now. He didn’t know it was a losing battle with myself to look at myself in the mirror after what I had done to Vlad.