Chapter 45

Z A R A

"Take me home?" My voice is instantly quiet. I wrap my arms around my stomach in a firmer manner, afraid of what may happen.

In minutes, Frank explains his task to infiltrate Philip's hideout but at that time, Frank wasn't informed of all the details.

"You're saying Alejandro knew that there would be an attempt on my life?" Frank nods. "Yet he let it happen." He nods again.

"I was just a pawn in his sick game?"

Frank pauses, picking his next words very carefully. "Again, I was not informed of all the details—just enough to gather information and put Boss' plan into action. The knowledge of whether you were a pawn or not is not under my understanding."

I don't have time to think hard about any of this. I will take Frank's help and escape this place. "Since when did your speech get so formal?"

He looks at me in confusion.

"You sound formal, instead of rude."

"I've always talked like this," he states.

"Right..." I give him a small smile. "How are we leaving this place?"

He gives a short, simple, and unbelievable plan. He informs me that he works under the guise of security here and has been for the last one and a half months. He knows the home like it's the back of his hand, including all the possible escape routes. He also informs me that it won't be a guaranteed escape but I tell him that there's no point in not trying. He also mentions that if any staff questions us, he will tell them I'm being escorted to the cell. Philip and his men are out of town for the next couple of hours and plan to return before his time for Alejandro expires.

My heart is pounding out of my chest as I follow Frank. The house is dead silent and even though my feet are making no noise, it feels like I'm walking on a marble floor with my heels clicking against the ground.

My breathing picks up, getting heavier as I hear the chatter. Frank puts out his arm to stop me. "Keep your head down," he warns.

I quickly slump my shoulders, tilting my head towards the floor. I try to look as distressed as possible. The fact that I'm truly in distress helps my case.

He opens a door that leads us down a spiral of stairs underground. The place is damp and dark, probably for emergency escapes from law enforcement or something. He leads me down further through the dark pathway until I can barely see anything unless Frank's flashlight illuminates it. We walk for what felt like hours but, it must've only been about 10 minutes—more or less.

The walk was silent, Frank refused to make any conversation. I would ask him where we're going, what we are doing after we reach the end, and who he's taking me to, but he doesn't answer any of my questions. Uneasiness spreads throughout my mind but I keep walking forward because it's too late. We finally reach the end of this seemingly never-ending tunnel. Frank slowly opens the door, which fills the tunnel up with extreme light blinding me.

Before he can lead me out the door, I stop.

"Frank, you're not tricking me into another plot, are you? Because if you are, I won't hesitate to pull something that won't do either of us any good." I'm tired of being played by every person I've met so far. I'm just so tired.

He sighs. "No, because if I pull some shit, Boss will serve my head on a platter as he did with the Gambino bastard."

I squint my eyes suspiciously at him but choose to accept his answer and walk out the door. The sunlight hits my eyes and I turn my head away to stop the burning. When my eyes finally focus, I see a black SUV waiting in front of us.

Frank walks past me and opens the door and that's when I notice Alejandro waiting for me. The heavyweight I have been carrying on my shoulders is instantaneously lifted. I let out a sigh, breathing normally for the first time in a while. Frank gestures for me to quickly get inside as he looks around for anyone who may have noticed us.

I slide into the seat beside Alejandro but don't look at him. I hold my tongue, trying hard not to have an outburst because it won't be good for my health, nor would it be good for the baby. He doesn't bother speaking to me either, so I give in.

"Why?" I ask in a low, tone.

"Why what?"

"Why would you use me as a wager in your atrocious games?" My voice cracks just slightly.

"It had to be done," he says as if it wasn't a big deal.

"You know what I—what we—had to go through?" I include the baby. My anger is bubbling through my body, wanting to lash out.

"I didn't know you were pregnant," he states, shrugging his shoulders. His voice is way too calm and steady for what he put me through.

"I want you to let me go," I say. "I want you to leave me alone!"

"No," he states clearly. He pulls me onto his lap, tilting my chin down so I would meet his gaze. "Never."

I bite my bottom lip hard, trying not to scream my lungs out but this is the one battle I can't seem to win. I hit my fists against his chest repeatedly. Why not?! Why is he so damn obsessed with me?

"I hate you, Alejandro!" I shout. "I hate you for everything you put me through! I hate you for using me constantly and continuously! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" He doesn't flinch at my hits; it doesn't even look like I'm hitting him hard even though I'm putting every inch of my strength into it.

He pulls me into his chest, resting his hand on the back of my head. His unoccupied hand caresses my back, trying to calm me down. That's when I notice I have tears streaming down my face. Is this who we are? He always causes me to hurt yet he's always the one attempting to bring me comfort. What kind of a sick joke is this?

"No," I say as I push away from him. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to hurt me, put my life in danger, and try to comfort me at the same time." My voice has lost its anger, now bathing in sorrow. "You... What do you want from me? Who am I to you? Who are we to you?" I touch my stomach lightly.

"You are family," he answers, catching me off guard. "Both of you. You're the only family I have left."

I scoff, chuckling sadly. "Really? Then, is this how you treat family? Is there a reason why you're so cruel to someone you supposedly consider as the only family you have left? Is this how you treated your father? Your mother?"

His body stiffens. "I've said this many times, Zara. This is who I am. I am cruel because I choose to be, I am ruthless because I choose to be, I am merciless because I choose to be."

"Oh? Then, please explain your undeniable hatred and disrespect for women. It must be something your father gave you. Does it run in the family?" I should've bit my tongue before I let those words slip.

He grips my wrist hard, crushing it in his hand. "Don't fucking dare speak ill of my father."

"Or what? You'll kill me? Do it! Do it, Alejandro!" I shout. "Because that's all you've been trying to do since getting your hands on me. End your frustrations by ending me!"

"I can't," he says while pushing me off his lap. "Not anymore. You're carrying my heir, whether it be a girl or a boy."

Not anymore? "And if I wasn't carrying your child, would you have killed me?"

"I may have," he answers nonchalantly.

His answer hurt more than I thought it would. But nonetheless, I sit back down, relieved that he would at least protect our child.

"I have a request," I break the silence. "Not as your wife but as the mother of your child."

He nods, gesturing me to proceed.

"I want to live separately from you for the duration of my pregnancy," I say. "I want to live away from the bustling city, preferably the suburbs, in a nice, normal neighborhood."

"Why is that?" He raises a brow.

"I don't want to go through any stress for the duration of the 9 months," I answer simply. I just want some peace and quiet before having to share an uncertain forever with Alejandro.

"That's unfair for me, is it not?" He asks.

"How so?"

"You expect me to be okay with having no bonding time with my unborn child?" He sounds so... normal. He sounds like a normal concerned parent.

"Alejandro," I sigh. "When are you ever at home anyways? It'll make no difference to you."

"I refuse to be an absent father," he pushes.

His comment slightly softens my expression. Something about the way he sounds genuinely adamant about not being an absent father makes me feel a bit... relaxed. Our baby will be safe and happy with him, even if I don't feel the same way about him. That's all I needed to know to feel relieved for our little one.

"I'm not taking away any visitation rights, neither am I saying we won't live together after the birth," I explain. "It's just for while I'm pregnant, for my own peace of mind, for my mental and physical health."

"Zara," his tone softens, surprising me. He places a hand on my cheek, cupping my face. "Will that make you happy? Does being away from me make you happy?"

I shouldn't hesitate to answer because I want to answer with a yes. I want to say that yes, not having him close makes me happy but I know, deep in my heart, that it's not true. In some twisted way, I need him close to feel secure, safe—something. This bizarre situation has created some kind of sickening dependency on him for me. I want to live without him but a part of me knows that it's not possible anymore, I'm too deep in to be able to dig out.

"Ye—" my words are cut short as I hear a loud pop while the car swerves off course.

Alejandro pulls me into his arms but not before I hit my head against the window, feeling immense whiplash. There's a loud ringing in my ears while the world is spinning in my eyes. Alejandro's mouth is moving but I can't hear anything. The loud, sharp ringing sounds like it might rip my eardrums to shreds if it keeps going any longer.

My vision blurs in and out, not being able to focus on anything as Alejandro holds my face in his hands saying something I can't understand.

"What?" I finally manage to say out of pure confusion.

"Frank's dead. We have to go," he says, then kicks open the severely dented door.

"What?!" This time there's a clear shock. "He can't be. He's—" I turn to look at him. He's slumped over the steering wheel, his body limp. Blood is pooling over the dashboard that's covered in shattered glass, a clear bullet hole marking the side of his head.

A sobbing gasp escapes my lips, no, no, no, no! What will I tell Charlotte? What will I do without his sarcastic remarks? Frank became like a friend—a family to me. I feel a part of myself being ripped away as I breathe in heavily for air. How many more people will be at risk because of me? How many more people do I have to lose?

Alejandro manages to pull me out of the car and I didn't understand the severity of the crash until I saw the wrecked car from the outside. How we weren't crushed into bits, only God will know. Alejandro grabs my hand and bolts into a run. I try to keep up but I know I'm holding him back, I'm exhausted and drained.

"We're running on foot?" The words come out before I can think. "I mean, how far can we go if we keep rurunun

"Not far," there's a sense of defeat in Alejandro's tone. Something I've never heard from him before. "That's why you will leave and I'll stay back." He pulls out a gun from a strap around his leg.

He's preparing to take on Philip by himself.

"I can't... I won't leave you behind," desperation slips into my tone as tears start pooling in my eyes. "I just found you," my voice breaks.

He sighs and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, placing it against my forehead. "You're hurt," he says. I didn't even realize I was bleeding until now. "This is my war, this is something I created. The both of you have nothing o do with this. Go, take a taxi back to the private airport. There will be a jet ready to fly you back—Marcus and Yasmeen should be there already." He hands me his wallet.

"You can't do this! You might have dragged me into this hellhole, but you can't make me leave like this!" I shout.

I sound insane—actually, scratch that, I am insane. Why wouldn't I want to leave? He's right, this has nothing to do with me. I can't even do anything to help. Then, why can't I just leave? Why can't I run to my freedom? Why doesn't it feel like freedom, instead feels like further suffocation?

"This is no time to argue, Zara. You can't be selfish in a situation where you're not only responsible for your life but also for another."

"You're going to give me a speech about being selfish? Out of all people, you?" I scoff. "Isn't that just golden?"

"Zara," he says warningly. "Go. Now."

I realize I don't have a choice. I have to leave, I have to run away from here before Philip brings Hell upon Earth. In the spur of the moment, I bring Alejandro in for one last, passionate kiss. He stiffens for a quick second but then wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in against his chest. I can feel the edge of the gun digging into my back as I hold me a little tighter. Our lips savoring every second, every feeling, every touch. This may very well be our last kiss from the way we're refusing to let go. However, Alejandro pulls away, his thumb caressing my bottom lip—which now feels somewhat swollen—resting his forehand on mine. I run my hand up and down the nape of his neck to provide him with some comfort, or maybe provide myself with some comfort.

"Go, and don't look back," he says, handing me the napkin to help with my bleeding.

"Don't go anywhere I can't follow," I say.

"Please," I beg. "Come back home to me," I pause before hovering my hand over my stomach, "to us."

His eyes are distant, he's already disassociated himself from everything. Everything about him has taken an instantaneously darker form, almost as if he's switched off his humanity.

I take a few steps back, our hands slowly slipping out of each other's grasp. I take him in, all of him, one more time before taking off. Tears stream down my face, down to my neck but I don't have time to wipe them. I run and run, further and further away—as far as my blistered feet can take me.

I manage to motion for a taxi and surpassingly, the driver didn't bother asking me about my bloodied state. I gave him the address and he just drove.

15 minutes into the drive, something doesn't sit right with me. The path looks too familiar, too eery.

"How much longer, signore [sir]?" I ask.

"Arriveremo tra cinque minuti [we'll be there in five minutes]," he answers in Italian.

I understand the gist of it. All those lessons in Italian with Charlotte will pay off at this moment.

Five minutes, he said... five minutes yet not a single airplane in sight.

A sinking feeling fills the pit of my stomach, he's not taking me to the airport, is he?

"Would you mind dropping me off here?" I ask carefully.

"Mi dispiace, non parlo inglese [I'm sorry, I can't speak English]," he says almost nervously.

"Stop!" I beg him as I realize that he's most definitely not taking me to the airport.

"Fermati [stop]!" I repeat in Italian, hoping it gets through to him. "Please, signore! I'm pregnant! Sono incinta [I'm pregnant]!"

Mi dispiace tanto [I am really sorry]... Spero che mi perdoni [I hope you can forgive me]," he says quietly as he speeds up.

I try to kick at the window, yanking at the lock on the door, but nothing works. I slide down my seat, sobbing into my hand, this might be the end of me.

After a couple more minutes, the taxi comes to a stop. The driver unlocks the door and someone from the outside opens my door. The fling myself back against the opposite end of the car, refusing to come out.

"Now, now, Princess," Philip's voice seeps through my ears. "You don't want a struggle in the state you're in, would you?"

I don't answer back, neither do I plan to leave the car.

"You don't want to know how you're husband's doing? I think you'd be happy with what I've done to him," he says. When he doesn't hear me answer, he continues,

"If you're not out of the car in the next 30 seconds, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through Yasmeen's head."

An inhumane sob escapes my lips. Yasmeen? Yasmeen's here?

"That's right," he says, clear satisfaction playing in his voice. "Your precious friend is held captive in my home. Oh, but that's not all, your parents are currently being held at gunpoint in their own homes. Do you want to say hi to them through a video call?"

"Philip! You fucking bastard!" I scream as I bolt out of the car to lunge at him, only to be held back by two of his men.

"Oh, Princess," he clicks his tongue in a mocking manner. "You should've just followed my orders. It would've saved you a lot of trouble." He starts walking towards the house. "Follow me," he orders.

The two men push me forward but I'm silent. I can no longer fight because Philip holds way too many people as leverage over me. I can't make a single move against him, I'm completely powerless. I haven't felt so inadequate and defenseless before, not even with Alejandro. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

As they lead me to the dark and damp room that I'm unfortunately familiar with, I'm met with someone else in the room.

"Alejandro?" My eyes widen.

He's been beaten to a pulp. He's bloody and bruised. His left eye is puffy, his nose is dripping with blood, his lips are cracked open. He's tied to the chair, motionless. He's staring blankly at the wall, not even flinching at my arrival. He doesn't look like he's in pain—in fact, he doesn't look like he's even here.

Philip claps. "Isn't it a nice family reunion?"

"What did you do to him?" My voice barely a whisper.

"Nothing. This bastard can apparently switch himself on and off like a robot or something," he rolls his eyes. "Elijah had informed me a bit late that it was something taught to Alejandro by his father, in case he was taken hostage or was interrogated." He kicks Alejandro in the stomach, but Alejandro doesn't react. "He's been in this state since I've captured him. Pretty impressive, however, it won't do him any good now."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"I'll dispose of you, of course," he states.

"But not until I have him watch as I torment you until you're on your knees begging me to free you."

"Then, why hold Yasmeen and my parents hostage?" I ask, every inch of hope in me quickly dispersing.

"So you don't try anything funny while you're alive. I like to have my options open." He pauses and something flashes across his eyes. "Oh! You know what would be exciting? If I bring your friends in here to watch as well! Maybe I'll play around with them too!" He looks over at one of the men in the room and orders him to bring Yasmeen and Marcus here.

"Please, stop, Philip," I plead with him. "I have nothing to do with any of this. I didn't know anything, I did nothing to you or your family, I just got caught in the middle of the crossfire. That's it. That's all there is to me."

"But that's not all, is it?" His tone darkens. "You know exactly what he did and yet you're still on his side, you still want to save him, you still want to be with a monster like him. You're not just someone caught in the middle, you're just as guilty as him for not leaving his side when you knew what he was."

"He's the father of my child! Of course, I want him to live!" I shout defensively.

"Besides, you're no good either. If you had only treated me with a little more respect, I might've helped out your case much more willingly."

"But that's not all, is it, Princess?" He dares me. "Admit it, you genuinely want to be with him, baby or not."

"Philip..." I say cautiously.

"You're just as sick as him, he's made you twisted and deviant," he continues, taunting me.

"That's enough..."

"You've become dependent on him, physically and emotionally. You know for a fact you won't be able to survive without him."

"Shut up, Philip!" I yell at him.

"Dare I say it, you're in love with the man who ruined you, Zara. You're even more fucked up than he is," he taunted me, pushing me over the edge.

Just as I whip my head up to give him a piece of my mind, the door swings open to shackled Yasmeen and Marcus being pushed into the room.

A man grabs me and sits me down on the chair placed against the back of Alejandro's chair so our backs would be against each other. He constraints my arms and legs, shackling me to the chair.

Yasmeen and Marcus are pushed down to the corner of the room, both their arms and legs are chained up, disabling them from being able to move.

"Zara!" Yasmeen says with relief. "You're okay! You're alive!

Tears spill forth from my eyes as I see the cuts and bruises on her skin. I couldn't even do something as simple as protect Yasmeen from all of this. I should've been forceful and sent her away long ago. I should've acted like a bitch to get her to turn away and abandon me. I should've done something—anything—to send her away but I didn't. Philip's right, I'm sick and twisted.

I notice Marcus's eyes are lingering upon Alejandro. The clear anger and frustration is apparent on his face. Not being able to help Alejandro must be killing him on the inside.

"Friends, don't look so glum," Philip says.

"The party is only getting started."

- - -

I'll never let any of these characters catch a break, LMAO!