Page 96 of Emerald

“Right? Remember how we always dreamed about becoming rich, how we would scour the magazines looking at the clothes, we always said one day we would be able to buy designer clothes and bags and shoes just like the ones in the magazines,” she says, waving her hand around the room. “I did it.” She replies excitedly. The room feels the size of a football field, all mirrors and glass and wall-to-wall space for bags, shoes, and dresses.

“This is … wow …” I walk in and look at all her clothes.

“I get private showings when I’m in Paris,” she states.

“You’ve been to Paris?”

“Yes, I go to all the fashion shows, but I keep my profile low. I go to London, Milan, New York, and of course, Miami swim week.”

I stare at my friend. Here I am fighting to survive, and there she is swanning around fashion week.Don’t be jealous.It’s hard not to be when it feels like she’s been living a cushy life.You don’t know what she’s had to do to survive.True. But all this was bought by cartel money.

“Look at this,” she says, pulling out a red Birkin bag, “remember we saw this in a magazine, and it was our dream bag.” I hold the gorgeous leather bag in my hand, it’s so soft, so beautiful. “I want you to have it.”

“What? No. This is too expensive,” I tell her.

Anna shakes her head. “Take it. I have plenty. I’m going to have to bring all this stuff with me.”

“You can’t bring all this,” I tell her.

“Why not? Do you have any idea how much all this is worth? I’m going to need money. There is millions of dollars’ worth of stuff here,” she tells me. I look around the room again. “Look at these jewels,” she says, pulling the drawers that have jewels in them. “I have more in the safe,” she explains.

“Anna, you’re not going to be able to take all of this.”

“You can, though?” She smirks as she grabs the Birkin bag and starts filling it with jewels.

“Anna!”

“We are going to need money,” she says, continuing to stuff more jewels into the bag.

“Your staff will know something is up and will report it to your husband.”

She shakes her head. “Not if I tell them I’m getting the jewels cleaned. I always do just before an event. It won’t be suspicious.”

“Seriously?” I ask her.

“Yes, now open the bag,” she demands, and I do.

“It weighs a ton.” I moan.

“There’s about twenty million dollars’ worth of jewels in there.”

“Anna,” I hiss at her, but she waves me away.

“Come, let’s get you home.”

35

NASH

I’ve been going crazy, pacing my home, waiting for Elena to get back from whatever depraved party Manuel’s dragged her to. I haven’t been able to eat, drink, or do anything except pound the punching bag in my gym for hours on end, envisioning every single person who dares touch my Elena. The sound of a car pulling up outside the house stills me and I quickly duck into my bedroom and peer through the blinds. That’s not Manuel’s car, but a man gets out and opens the door for Elena. I watch as her long, tanned leg touches the ground, the thigh split exposing her peachy ass. She smiles, laughs, and waves goodbye to whoever is in the car and watches it drive away. She looks fine. Her clothes aren’t ripped and her makeup is still in place, as is her hair, as she slowly walks toward the front door.

“You’re home,” I exclaim as I open the front door.

She stares at me for the briefest of moments as I catch her off-guard, and the next thing I know, she launches herself into my arms and hugs me tightly.

“Are you okay?” I ask, placing her feet back on the ground as I look over every inch of her.

The brilliant smile I get back from her eases my tension. “Check this out,” she says, grabbing a large red bag—not the one she went out with—and placing it on the kitchen counter. Then she tips out the contents—a pile of diamond jewelry.

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