“Yes,” Domenico said, and for the first time in hours, his mouth relaxed into a smile. “We might have just one asset on the inside, but it’s one that can deliver a checkmate.”
Seth followed when Dom started climbing the ladder. “You’re serious about this.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, Dana has explosives and means of cutting off electricity.”
“We have a problem,” Miguel said from above. When Domenico peeked out from the mock-sarcophagus, Miguel was smoking a cigarette by the metal bars of the door.
Domenico sighed, happy to hear Seth follow him, the way he always did.
“What is it?” he asked Miguel, taking himself out of the hidden shaft.
“There’s a fucking jaguar sitting right outside.” Miguel pointed to the massive cat which chose to lay in the grass a few meters away.
Seth pushed closer and looked through the bars with parted lips.
Domenico groaned, watching the animal with a frown. “Yes. That bastard cornered me here. I managed to land a scratch on him, but I see you two are not coming empty-handed,” he said, spotting a gun in a holster at Seth’s hip. He must had stripped it off one of Toro’s men. As soon as they dealt with the predator, he could go back to the car, free the driver and get his Beretta back where it belonged.
Domenico reached for Seth’s gun without thinking. “Well, now we’re gonna see who’s the man, Jaguar.”
He aimed at the animal’s head just as the beast was showing off its fangs again, but when he pulled the trigger, Seth shoved at his hand, making him miss and shoot into the ground instead. Still, the jaguar made a hissing sound and ran away into the forest as if its tail was on fire.
Domenico frowned as he looked Seth’s way. “Why did you do that? Are they endangered, or something?”
Seth’s lips parted. “I…” He put his arm over Dom’s shoulders. “It reminds me of you. It’s too beautiful to kill.”
Domenico watched him for several moments, ignoring Miguel’s groan. The man needed to get laid, and fast, because Domenico would not deny himself Seth’s lips when his husband was being so sweet.
“I’ll get Nero Moreno,” Miguel announced, exhaling smoke through his nose like an angry dragon.
Chapter 19 - Mark
Mark dug his nails into his palms so hard he sensed them biting through the skin. Stuck in the cell with Charlotte, he hadn’t even been told what happened with Seth and Domenico, but he tried to not imagine the worst. Still, he was now a prisoner where he’d been a guard just hours ago. He could be tortured for information, or simply shot if he was deemed useless. It could happen at any time, so he needed to think fast.
Charlotte sat on the bed and wouldn’t look at him, silent, her eyes devoid of hope.
She wore the same dress he first saw her in, and the memory of her body, doll-like and limp in the box sent shudders down Mark’s spine. And now, locked up alongside her, he was just as defenseless. Maybe Domenico and Seth had made a run for it. Domenico would never endanger Seth more than absolutely necessary, especially not in a place where they’d have so little to their advantage. Did this mean Mark would be yet another casualty of their escape from the mafia?
“Is there a chance that your cousin’s plan will work after all?” Charlotte broke the silence with only a whisper, and Mark wanted to howl. These lies would haunt him in his grave.
“There is no plan!” Mark blurted out staring at the steel bars as if looking at them intensely enough could physically bend them. “I lied.” Bile rose in his throat along with guilt.
Charlotte glanced at him, and tense seconds passed in a silence so complete it felt like she wished him from existence. She looked away, swallowing hard, but in the light of the bright standing lamp, the moisture gathering in her eyes glinted even as her pretty face tensed with withheld anger.
“I know.” Mark stood up and started pacing in the two meters of space between the wall and the bed. “But I’ve always wanted to help you get out. You…” He scooted by the bed and tried to grab her hand but she pulled it away. “You’re so amazing. You completely charmed me. It was all real.”
Charlotte pushed at his face and moved away, crawling back. “I charmed you? So this is my fault? It’s my fault that I’m still here? You promised to get me out, but you just stayed here with me, because you enjoyed it! And I believed you. I’m so stupid,” she whispered, huddling in the corner of the bed and wiping away the tears trailing down her face, as if she was embarrassed of them.
“No, Charlotte, sweetie… I was waiting for a good opportunity to make a run for it. Gian and Bastian wanted to help too. It’s just that the situation is so difficult. But I’m still optimistic.” Mark dared to smile, but the truth was he wasn’t optimistic at all, and he was lying to her face yet again. He wanted to please her so badly it hurt.
“Stop it. I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Charlotte exploded, tossing a pillow his way. “You can’t help me, and you never even put your mind to it either, so stop lying!”
Mark bit his lips and plopped down to his ass. “I wanted to. I still do. But I’m not perfect. I shouldn’t have started anything with you in the first place, but someone like you would never give me the time of day in the real world, and I thought that if I could save you, if I managed to show you I’m worth something, you’d see the real me and love me even outside of here.”
Charlotte stared at him, her blue eyes wide as if she was seeing him for the first time. “Who are you? Like... who are you really? Is Mark even your real name, or was that a lie as well?”
If he was to die, couldn’t he at least tell her more? Even if it meant she’d hate him? “It is my name.” He got up and sat on the bed to see her better. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I got here through such a series of events you wouldn’t even understand, but back where I started, in the US, I was no one, I was trash. And now I’m really trying to make something of myself, and I don’t know who I am becoming in the process. But then I met you, and you don’t belong in this world so much that I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’ve fallen for you so hard I hurt all over.”
Charlotte licked her lips, watching him in silence, but when Mark didn’t say anything more, she leaned forward, touching her warm fingertips against his forearm. “You’re not trash. How could you say that about yourself? You’re smart and too charming for my own good.”
“But I don’t have anything. No money, no home, no family.” Mark reached up to pet her pretty fingers. He felt guilty over saying the last bit when Domenico and Seth had done so much for him, but where were they now when he’d been left to rot in a cell yet again?
Charlotte slowly moved closer, and when her warm, sweet-scented body pushed against his side, for a moment he thought it would be all right somehow. Maybe he wasn’t able to save her on his own, but Domenico and Seth have had more than one opportunity to leave him behind, and yet they hadn’t. Maybe they just needed more time to get here. It would be unfair to not give them the benefit of the doubt, but it was so difficult after being abandoned so many times before.
“Your cousin?” asked Charlotte, and her slim arm snaked its way around Mark’s shoulders.
He pulled her into a hug as soon as he felt she wasn’t pushing back against it. She was so fragile, so perfect and pale that he wanted to turn into a shield to protect her against any threat. The shame of allowing Samuel Moreno to touch her still burned under his skin. “He’s not even my real cousin.” Mark nuzzled her shoulder, trying to remember the softness of her skin in case he was to die today. “They got in trouble with Toro, and I don’t even know if they’re still alive.”
Charlotte contemplated this for a few moments, brushing Mark’s hair away from his forehead. She was hugging him tighter and eventually rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Whenever I asked about you, you always changed the topic. I thought it was top secret, or something.”
Mark sighed, enjoying
the fleeting moment of tenderness. “I have to keep many secrets, but I guess I just wanted you to see me for me, not my bullshit past.”
Charlotte’s hand was so smooth against Mark’s face, and he turned his head for a sweet kiss when she requested it with a gesture. Her quiet acceptance made his heart beat faster, and he pulled her close.
“You know, if you get us out of here, we could go home together,” Charlotte whispered between their lips. “We have so many guest rooms in our house. You could move into one of them.”
The offer left him stunned. He still remembered how Raj had backed out from helping him, yet even after all the lies, Charlotte’s sweet heart was open to give him a shot, to fight for him.
“How…? I mean… all the way in England? Your parents would never agree… would they?” He desperately wanted to believe they would. And as soon as he found a job, he’d move out and not be a burden for them. As long as he had Charlotte, he was sure they’d make it work. The prospect was so completely different than the dangerous life he was being prepared for by Domenico and Seth. There was no blood and brutality in that picture, no running through illegal tunnels or shooting any more people. It sounded like such a normal, peaceful existence it bordered on surreal.
Charlotte kissed Mark again, and her eyes glinted with hope. “Of course they would. You’d be my savior. And... I want you with me. It would be different out there. More honest,” she said, squeezing her hands around his.
Mark reciprocated the gesture, adding a quick kiss. “I’d take you on real dates.”
Charlotte smiled. “Yes. I’d teach you horse riding. Would you like that?”
Mark nodded. “You told me so much about your horse that I might be jealous when I meet him.” Even in this cell, his mind drifted off with ease to the kind of England he’d seen in costume movies, where he’d ride a horse alongside Charlotte’s, following a path down the creek, all the way to her family estate.
Still, Domenico’s words about Mark being no Prince Charming kept haunting him. If Charlotte allowed him into her life, would he fit into it? Wouldn’t it be yet another thing he stole, like Charlotte’s affection?
Charlotte laughed and pushed at him playfully. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s good for different stuff than what I do with you.”
Mark’s smile widened at how beautiful she was now that the spark was back in her eyes. “Oh, really? I remember you being a proficient rider.” The blush spilling over her cheeks was heaven, but she didn’t playfully slap him, like she usually would, going in for a kiss instead. Gradually, she sank deeper into his arms, as if the safety of his warmth was everything she needed. So he didn’t complain even when she pressed on the bruises left behind by the men who’d tossed him inside her cell and just embraced her in return.
The sound of the locks was like a dagger slicing through his flesh. They moved away from each other, and a part of Mark was hoping to see Seth, Domenico, and Miguel, Dana even, bursting in here to get him out, but he froze at the sight of no one other than Samuel Moreno and two of his goons.
Seeing them thrust unwanted memories right back into his face. The shame of having to stand by when Samuel had forced Charlotte to strip in front of him so that he could assess her, as if she wasn’t even a human being but a moving, breathing sex doll. She was so much more than that, and yet all Samuel wanted to see was her naked body.
Charlotte shrieked and backed away to the wall. Samuel Moreno frowned and walked through the room, picking up the keys to the cell on his way. Imposing, full of himself in the way he spoke, Mark despised the man from his greasy hair to the tips of the crocodile skin shoes. Nero Moreno was the outrageously gay one, but Samuel? Every time he was discussed, it was in the context of his father, and Mark knew of no weaknesses he could address. Yet another one of his mistakes. Back then, he’d taken everything too lightheartedly, forgetting that this mission invited life or death situations.
“You two seem very comfortable with each other,” Samuel said coolly as he approached and pushed the key into the lock of the cell door.
Mark stood up, unsure what role to play. How to deceive for the best outcome. One of the goons held a gun, and Samuel had one in a holster. Could Mark somehow reach that one through the bars? What good would that be though if he was still locked up?
“That’s what happens when you spend weeks on end with someone. I don’t even understand why I’m locked up.”
Samuel’s cool eyes shone with amusement when he opened the door and went in, offering his hand to Charlotte, even though his eyes still lingered on Mark. “You’ll know soon enough.”
Mark felt his body hair bristle. Something odd hung in the air. He could feel it in the way the two goons stood behind the bars—tense and ready to spin to face the door. As if they believed someone could interfere.
Charlotte curled up and shook her head, but Samuel must have lost patience, as he pulled her up by force.
Mark needed to win some time. Maybe then things would work out, maybe Domenico would come and save them. But then his eyes met Charlotte’s terrified gaze, and it struck him that he couldn’t wait for someone to help them anymore. Those men had come here to deal with this quickly, likely behind Toro’s back, and if they took Charlotte with them, he’d never see her again. Mark had failed her once, and he would not let that happen again. It was time to act.
“Does Toro know you’re taking her?” The words came out more aggressively than he would have wished, but it was too late to amend that.
Samuel stepped back through the door, holding Charlotte against his chest by the neck. She stumbled on her way but kept her eyes on Mark, their blues glowing with panic the more frantic the farther she was taken away from him. Her skin was so pale against the thick fingers that could so easily snap the life out of her.
“Toro isn’t doing a good job guarding her in the first place if he put you in charge,” Samuel said.
Mark took a step forward, desperate to make his move while the cell door was open. Once it was locked, there wouldn’t be much he could do. But even now... what was he to do? His whole body was going rigid, filling up with adrenaline like a drowning man swallowing the water that would take him to the bottom of the sea. His eyes kept straying to the one gun that was ready to use. Were Mark to fail, not reach this particular man on time, he’d be dead in seconds. Or, if he was unlucky, in hours of bleeding out on the floor.
“I did my job well!”
Did he have it in him to be Charlotte’s prince in shining armor? Or was he really just a thug? Domenico had told him to cut the ties with her, and Mark promised to do as he was told. He decided to put their family first on that day, so what was he even doing playing this dangerous game with Samuel Moreno?
Charlotte’s eyes called out to him like two beacons he desperately needed to reach, so despite the firearm that could be pointed at his chest at any second, he took step after step, mirroring Samuel’s pace. His brain burned with fear and desperation not to let Charlotte down, but Samuel Moreno’s curiosity was likely the only thing keeping him from being poisoned by lead and gunpowder at this point.
Charlotte whined, closing her eyes when Samuel tightened the hold on her neck, but then she completely froze, and Mark spotted Samuel’s other hand trailing over the hem of her dress, only to dive between her thighs.
Mark’s brain overflowed with rage so red he could barely see anymore. “She’s not yours!” he hissed through clenched teeth, but as soon as he made an abrupt move forward, not even thinking about what he was doing, Samuel’s hand slid from under the dress and went straight to the gun in the holster.
He squinted at Mark. “Whose is she then? Are you trying to say you’ve touched my property?”
Two handguns pointed at Mark, drawing his attention like two burning coals in a freezer. He could almost sense the smell of gunpowder already. None have yet shot, but dull pain was starting to spread throughout his chest in anticipation of the attack. All the training that he had been through with Domeni
co and Miguel flooded his mind, as if the proximity of death and pain was the last barrier that needed to be put in place so that he could think clearly. All at once, the fear that kept him in a state of chaos evaporated, leaving behind a mind focused on looking for openings.
Three men.
Two guns.
The other goon also had a knife. Samuel most likely had one too.
Samuel pointed the gun at Mark with a hiss worthy of a cobra. “You have, you motherfucker!” He turned his face, pressing his mouth against Charlotte’s ear while never taking his eyes off Mark. “If your cunt doesn’t bleed for my father, I’ll throw you to the caimans.”
The world around Mark moved as if it suddenly filled with water, each twitch of the steel muzzle in front of Mark’s face lasting a full second. Charlotte curled up in fear, and then something happened.
A tremor stirred under Mark’s feet, but the noise of what had to be an explosion or an earthquake grew stronger, and the floor shook hard enough for the water in the pitcher to make waves against the glass. Samuel Moreno looked up to see bits of plaster breaking off the ceiling for the tiniest moment, but it was enough for Mark to act.
The movement he’d practiced begrudgingly so many times came back to him as if Domenico snapped his fingers in front of Mark’s nose yelling “Be faster!”. He ducked to the side to get out of the way of a potential bullet, and grabbed Moreno’s wrist.
His other hand was on the barrel of the gun before either of them could think, and he spun the firearm as abruptly as he could, pulling it out of the man’s grip. Samuel screamed out when his finger made a nasty snap, his face twisting in pain so great he let go of Charlotte, clutching his injured hand.
Mark ducked toward Samuel before the shot could even resound through the room, knowing the armed goon’s move would come next. The man wouldn’t be making another shot though if Mark had anything to say in that matter. The second bullet flying would be his.
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