Okay sooo… plot twist
In the meantime, if you're bored or miss me (which you totally will), go binge my other books! Just search Lashes and wherever you see my pfp, yup, that’s me doing my thing.
Books: The Perfect Marriage Fraud, The Blood Catalyst (highly recommend)
Be good while I’m gone! See you soon 💖
I LOVE YOU!!!
Donatella spent a few more hours with her, telling her about books that they had read and even stayed for a while after hrr father had gone home. Arya sat still on the bed for a while, not moving, not thinking much either. The silence wasn’t loud, but it made everything else stand out more—the soft hum of the air vent, the shift of bedsheets under her hand, the small creak in the wood above the window.She looked uo when she heard the handle of the door turn. Juan stepped inside, closing the door slowly behind him. He didn’t say anything right away. His eyes moved around the room once before landing on her. He looked like he had something to say but didn’t know how to start. His hand stayed near the doorknob, like maybe he was thinking about turning around and leaving again."Donatella gone?" he asked, taking a few steps forward."Yeah," she said, lowering her hand. "She just left."He gave a small nod and walked in further, dragging the chair near the table closer to the bed, then
Arya tied up her hair and studied her reflection for a moment before turning away. The room was quiet, only the sound of footsteps outside the door, then quiet once more. She stooped to retrieve her shoes, put them on slowly, then simply stood, not knowing what to do. A knock came at the door. "Arya?" a soft voice called. It wasn’t Juan. It was one of the housekeepers—Lucia. "Yes?" Arya said, walking over. Lucia gave a small smile when the door opened. "Donatella is here to see you. She came with her father. They’re with the others downstairs." Arya blinked. "Oh. Okay. I’ll be down in a minute." Lucia nodded and walked off. Arya stood where she was. The room fell silent again. She took a jacket, slipped it on, and left, moving more slowly than she had meant to. There was a smell of coffee in the house and something fainter coming from the kitchen. She heard voices in the dining room—Juan's voice, then another, older and deeper. That would be Donatella's father. She stopped in
Okay sooo… plot twist I’m down with a lil sickness and it’s mid-semester exam season (double whammy, I know). So I’m hitting pause for about a week. No updates till I crawl out of this academic + flu combo.In the meantime, if you're bored or miss me (which you totally will), go binge my other books! Just search Lashes and wherever you see my pfp, yup, that’s me doing my thing.Books: The Perfect Marriage Fraud, The Blood Catalyst (highly recommend)Be good while I’m gone! See you soon 💖I LOVE YOU!!!
"Do you want to talk about it?" Arya asked, using her hand to shift Juan's hair away from his face. He gave a small laugh and shifted away."No, it's fine. I'm handling it."But he wasn't handling it well at all. He was spiralling—several thoughts at once coming into his head.Was Hernandez really a traitor or was that the last attempt to destroy things? How was it even logical that such a man who had stood with him through thick and thin was behind this? Was working with Giuseppe?Giuseppe didn’t work with people like Hernandez. He was a nationalist in the ugliest way—loud about Italian roots, old-school pride, heritage above all. Hernandez wasn’t just not Italian. He was Spanish and in Giuseppe’s world, that was enough reason to sneer.Or could it be that Hernandez and Giuseppe's alliance was temporary?It didn't add up. They weren't even the same kind of man. Hernandez was clean, organized and silent while Giuseppe was showy, rash, violent in a way that wasn't always necessary. The
They all froze.Juan's chest tightened. His head whipped around at the door. His eyes flashed once, then again to the man in the chair."What did you just say?" he demanded.But the man did not answer. He released a breath, and his body fell forward, still with blood streaming from his mouth. One of the guards moved up to check for a pulse, his two fingers on the man's side of his neck."Gone," he whispered. "He's dead."Juan stared at the dead body, then at the door, a distant look on his face.His blood went cold and the name continued to ring in his head.Hernandez.His heart rate was speeding up. He didn't move initially. He simply stood there staring at the guy who was slumped over in the chair. The blood had seeped into the fabric now, and the silence in the room had become oppressive. He didn't utter a sound. Didn't nod. Didn't even blink.He turned slowly, walked to the door, and went outside silently.The night air was chilly, but it didn't faze him. His head was noisy, full
"It's oddly familiar," Hernandez said, taking the words right out of Juan's mouth. Juan's fingers touched the crest. It wasn't painted on, it was engraved into the metal, and had a circle of five small triangles. He hadn't seen it since Jakarta—during that madness when everyone turned on everyone and the streets went silent in a heartbeat. He didn't comment right away. His eyes raked over the other crates. Every single one of them had this sign. He whipped off his coat, got out his phone, and took a picture. Then he stood up, still eyeing the boxes. "Get them out of here," he told the others who were cleaning the floor. "Straight to the safehouse. Nobody lays hands on them. Nobody touches them, nobody opens them until I tell you to." Hernandez looked over. "You know what it is, don't you?" "I do," Juan said, walking to the back of the warehouse. He stopped next to a forklift and leaned on its side. He gazed at the floor for an incredibly long time before he went on. "We saw this