Page 63 of The Silent Princess

“One every little girl spends a lifetime dreaming about.” Could it be…the ball? No, she wouldn’t. Would she actually invite me, along with the girls? Never in years has she wanted to associate herself with me, so why now? Is it a trap? “I’m off. Try not to disappoint me again,” she snaps before exiting. I clutch the edge of the sink.

Why am I having such a hard time trusting her? Is she genuine or manipulative? And why do all my triggers go into alarm mode in her presence? Shaking my head, I sigh, a knot of words and confusion filling my head. So I do the one thing I know will make it all better.

Me: Everything has been going wrong since you left last night. I miss you.

He answers right away, my phone vibrating as an incoming call appears.

A call?

Did he forget that I can’t speak?

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat as if calling each other was one more step into this relationship we had no name for. “I know we can’t technically talk, but I thought I could try to make you feel better. Snap your fingers at the mic once for yes, twice for no.” I smile, his care transpiring even through the line, and snap my fingers once.

“See? We just have to be creative. I’m in and out of meetings. I wish I had more time to talk to you. Did you talk to your dad?” I snap my fingers once for yes. “Good. And…?” One snap. “I’ll have the flat ready.” Words of appreciation rush to my fingers, but I cannot say anything, frustration and gratefulness resting on both of my shoulders. “We’ll discuss the details tonight together after your shift. Is that okay with you?” One snap. “And just for the record, I miss you too.” I let out a sigh, and he catches it, his voice so deep and low it murmurs against my ear like his lips. “If I had more time…” He pauses, talking to someone next to him. “I’ll be right there.”

Then he lowers his voice to me again. “The things I would tell you right here, right now, to make you forget all your worries.” He hisses in a breath. “Take this day, and the very few ones coming, as the last ones where you will do chores and live under this roof. Sooner than you think, everything will be better. You will go back to studying, and your dad will have the best care possible. You have my word, Ella. Your safety and happiness are my priority.”

My breath quickens, blush rising along with unshed tears. Is this man truly falling for me? No one ever did, but it feels… It feels like something so close to love. I want to believe him so much it hurts. Could this soon be the end of this dreadful life? There is a clinking sound of metal behind the line, along with steps, voices, and the rustling of paper. Where is he? And why is there a subtle touch of hurry in his voice? It is not the calm composure I am used to.

“I’m in the middle of something, Ella, but I promise to take care of you tonight and…” He pauses. “We’ll make a plan, together.” The last word hangs, as if it is the first time he is confiding in someone else about his strategies.

“Sweetheart, I really have to go, but can you please snap your fingers? I’m going to lose it if you don’t answer.” Snapping my fingers once, I close my eyes, looking over the dirty dishes filling the sink since the girls are too lazy to put everything in the dishwasher. “I’m going to hang up right now. The thing I’m doing is… It’s for us, Ella. Trust me. I’ll explain everything tonight. I promise you.” I snap my fingers again, and he waits a second longer as voices grow louder in the back, an invisible interlocutor on the line pressuring us to part.

“I…” He stops. “See you tonight sweetheart.” And with that, he shuts the call as if he does not want to do so at all. A single tear drops on the porcelain sink, and I picture a sudden image of taking all those dishes and throwing them on the perfect checkered black-and-white floors, expensive plates breaking into a million pieces, irreversibly damaged like what… Like what she did to me.

Breathe.

Tonight, everything will be better. He will make it better. Everything is about to change. I can feel it from my toes to my fingers. Yet I cannot help but wonder.

Will something come in the way?

Chapter Sixteen

Tristan

Afist strikes my head hard, and I try to block it away, but I get smashed to the side and onto the metal cage ring nonetheless. The crowd chants the other guy’s name, and I swipe blood from my teeth with the back of my bandaged hand. My black shorts are drenched in blood, the rest of sweat rolling down my chest as I see the guy coming at me. Ella’s face flashes in my mind.

My girl.

My Ella.

Mine.

With her in my head, my mind turns into a war weapon. He lunges at me, and I grab his middle, pressing him onto the ground, a rain of fists and elbows falling on his head. He tries protecting himself as blood smears the mat, and after thirty seconds, he taps my side three times. The referee grabs me like no one would be allowed to in any other circumstances, and I stand, arms up, out of breath. Damn, it feels good. The crowd gets wild, and I shut my eyes, soaking all the violence away. Yeah, I really needed this. Fighting, even in fucked-up events with the probability of getting my neck crushed, is necessary. All this destruction needs to go somewhere, and I never intend to become my father. I’m already walking on the thin thread between reason and duty. All I need is to focus on the goal. Protecting my family, protecting Ella.

She’s all the fuel I needed to win.

She is all the fuel I need, point blank.

I spit blood on the ground and get out of the cage, ready to get back into my suit in a few hours.

* * *

Today is one of those days when there is no difference between the movement of the sun and the changing hands of the clock. Actually, the last week has been the same. Saoirse and Matt keep intercepting information, with sources in the field giving us intel on where Cole could be, along with codes and information on his warehouses and possible hidden locations for his hostages. Hostages, since none of them ever wanted to be there in the first place. And hostages are meant to be freed.

We are now convinced the code his niece gave us last month is the code to the biggest hiding place Cole could be in. And that she gave us that piece of intel as revenge for Cole marrying her off to a man four times her age. It could also be a trap. Time will tell. It is not like me to rush. Nor to hurry for any reason other than my own, since I am the boss and I am the one calling the shots. Except Ella texted me as we were listening to a real-time conversation of Cole’s right-hand man discussing a possible transfer of hostages and drugs tonight with an unidentified person. I waited to hear his voice, to hear his obvious moves betrayed in his strategy. Still, nothing came out, as I was too distracted for the first time in my life, trying my best to take care of Ella despite our distance and inability to talk on the phone. Comforting others is not my default setting. But I tried. I really did. And I hope, I hope I was able to give her a bit of comfort to hold on to today until I see her tonight. There is so much I have to tell her, so much I want to do with her, that my brain short-circuited, unable to focus on work and her at the same time; the snake of temptation biting me both ways, leaving me unable to be fully there for either of them.

Nate has been handling the heavy lifting on our legal business side, but I still have a lot to take care of, approve, check, and read through, finding gaps in the fine print no associate has. I have also been waiting for any threat or sign coming from him, anything implying he knows about Ella and me. The last three nights, nightmares have plagued me with photographs of her with a red cross drawn across her face. What if he knew and was planning on taking her away from me? What if he did not stop and hurt her in irreversible ways? And what if… What if she never forgave me later, or worse…