They sober up quickly, turning around to occupy themselves with something else.
I dump Marlena into a seat and snap on her seatbelt. She spits at me, which is nearly the last straw. I’m doing all this to protect her, so a little bit of gratitude seems to be in order. But she’s furious, and not thinking.
I don’t blame her. From her point of view, I’m being cold and unreasonable. I still haven’t told her what I learned about her brother, and she doesn’t understand why she can’t see him. I signal my man to close the hatch. The pilot checks to make sure everyone’s accounted for before starting the final preflight check.
Marlena begins to sob. She knows that she’s defeated, and she gives up the fight. I don’t know which is worse, the screaming, kicking version of my bride or this miserable, broken one. I want to comfort her, but I know she doesn’t want to talk to me. So, I sit down opposite her and snap my own seatbelt.
Around us, all the rest of my men sit down, prepared for takeoff.
The plane launches into the air, causing Marlena even more pain. My heart’s breaking as I watch her. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I knew I might marry again after Alessia, but not like this. Not to a woman who doesn’t love me, or to someone who thinks I’m a monster. I tell myself that I’ve got the best of intentions, but somehow, that doesn’t change things.
As we’re soaring up toward the clouds, I realize that I’ve got to explain myself. It’s not going to be easy, but the longer I wait, the harder it will be. So, I draw a breath before launching into a blunt assessment of the situation.
“Brandon is missing,” I report. “We found his cell phone, but we can’t find him. Giovanni is looking, but at the moment, I can’t be sure if he’s alive or dead.” Marlena moans, letting out a scream so wretched that I can feel it in my bones. I have to press on. “I wanted to get you as far away as possible. You’ll be safe for the time being. And things may not be as bleak as I’m making them out to be.”
She doesn’t respond, putting her face down into her hands in despair. As soon as we achieve cruising altitude, Marlena unbuckles her seatbelt. She shoots me a hateful glance before storming off to the end of the plane. I can still see her clearly, but I suppose the relative distance gives her some peace. She flops down in a chair facing away from me and slumps in her seat. It’s as if she’s made herself invisible, doing the only thing she can to get back at me for forcing her into this situation.
I sigh, knowing that I can make it up to her. Hopefully, she’ll forget all about this conflict when she sees the sunny shores of Italy. There’s romance in the old country, and I’m hoping that itcan provide some relief. With any luck, Giovanni will be able to find Brandon, and this trip will have a happy ending after all.
CHAPTER 25
MARLENA
Exhaustion takes over, and I fall asleep. My emotions are so raw, I can’t even sort them out, but my subconscious mind takes a shot at it. I can see Brandon running somewhere in the distance. I call his name, but he doesn’t turn around. I reach out for him, trying to make him understand how important it is for us to meet, but then he turns a corner, and I lose sight of him altogether.
A moment later, I’m standing in Francisco’s study. He looks at me like he wants to eat me, and I’m turned on. I try to remember why I hate him, but my body won’t let me. I walk closer, as if I’m drawn to him by a force I can’t resist.
Turbulence shakes the plane, and I wake up. I’m groggy and disoriented. There’s a crick in my neck that hurts like the devil. The plane stops shaking and evens out, allowing me to exhale in relief. I hate turbulence.
Glancing over at the window, all I can see are clouds. I wonder where Francisco’s taking me. It feels like we’ve been in the air for hours, but I can’t tell how long my nap was. I look around me,wondering if I can make it to the bathroom while maintaining my righteous rage. I decide it’s worth a try and get to my feet.
My legs are sore; in fact, my whole body’s sore. I’m glad to be up and moving, but I don’t dare check the cabin to see who else is wandering around. I’m trapped in this metal tube with a bunch of gangsters, one of whom I’m engaged to. I realize belatedly what kind of trouble I’m in. Not only is Brandon missing, but I’ve been kidnapped. I’m on my way to who knows where for who knows how long, with no option to extract myself.
I walk to the bathroom with as much poise as I can manage. There’s no reason to let them see how upset I am. I don’t meet anyone’s eyes, sneaking into the tiny stall and locking the door behind me.
The woman in the mirror looks disheveled. I spent half an hour doing my makeup and hair before coming on this trip, when I thought it was just a luxurious shopping trip. But now my eyes are red, my hair is a mess, and my lips are swollen. I look like I’ve been in a fight.
I splash some water on my face, and then I get the brilliant idea to wait out the trip in the bathroom. They can’t force me to leave, and at least I’ll have the locked door to protect me. But after an hour, someone knocks on the door and orders me to come out.
“We’re landing soon, ma’am,” a stranger says.
“Go away!” I snap.
“You have to get back in your seat,” they insist.
“I don’t want to,” I counter.
“Please, ma’am,” they reply.
My heart sinks. They’re acting so nonchalant, as if we’re all consenting adults on this plane. Doesn’t anyone realize that I’m here against my will? I understand that there are protocols they have to follow, but I should be exempt. I’m a prisoner, for God’s sake.
The knocking continues. I realize I’m not going to be able to stay. And the tiny bathroom isn’t much of a refuge anyway. So I unlock the door and step out, straightening my shirt dramatically.
A stewardess steps aside to let me pass. I don’t look at her, returning to the seat that is farthest from my soon-to-be husband. No one says anything, but I’m sure they’re all thinking about me. They’re probably wondering why I’m being so difficult and wishing that I would just shut up and behave.
I plop down and buckle my seatbelt. Maybe once we land, I can get myself out of this mess. Maybe there will be an American embassy I can go to and plead my case. Maybe there will be policemen and women at our destination who will help me.
I hold these thoughts close to my heart, drawing comfort from the unlikely possibility that someone will come to my rescue. The plane lands on a small airstrip, and I’m curious about where we are.
