“Incredible?” I answered, cutting her off.
“Yes.”
“I just . . .” I hesitated. “I can’t lose you.”
Her expression softened at the sound of my unexpected confession. She remained silent for a few seconds while staring at the tattoos on my body.
“You won’t,” she said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion of her body. “But I need you to be patient with me.”
I dipped my chin and nodded. All the tension in my shoulders had disappeared entirely. “I can try,” I replied quietly. “I just hope you know how important you are to me.”
A ghost of a smile spread across her face as her eyes met mine. “I do. And I’m more grateful than you know.”
After that, we settled into a comfortable silence, allowing the personal turbulence between us to dissipate naturally as we continued our journey to Chicago.
Demi
The familiar Chicago skyline welcomed me and Ozias with open arms. I was finally home. Yet, home had never felt so unfamiliar, so cold before. I felt just as foreign on U.S. soil as I did when I first arrived in Mexico.
Everything about being back felt different—more intimate, yet tethered to Ozias’s dark world and the ghost of my father. As the armored car pulled up to his Midwest office, I stepped out and placed my hand in his. A wave of curiosity washed over me as soon as we stepped into the building.
The office space was polished and contemporary, and every employee we passed greeted us with reverence as if we were the king and queen. Their glances toward me were expected but still felt unnatural as if they were marveling at me from behind a bulletproof glass. With my fingers laced with his, I walked at his side as he effortlessly trekked across the marble floor, oozing his typical manner of confidence and command. Still, Ozias was quick to make me feel included.
I found my brain flooding with questions—wondering about all the nuts and bolts of his operation and comparing it to what I knew about my father’s. Ozias’s entire operation was far more streamlined, but I still found myself brainstorming ideas on howto make the process even more seamless and even potential opportunities for expansion—things my father would’ve never allowed my input on. Before I knew it, I was saying my thoughts out loud as we walked. Ozias listened attentively, a noticeable shift from the shooing off or shooting down I would’ve received if my father had been on the receiving end.
“You’ve got a knack for this business shit, huh?” Ozias mentioned as a slight smirk crept up one side of his mouth.
“Yeah, I do,” I replied with a light shrug.
His nod of approval was all I needed to see to know he valued my input. “Let’s see what we can do about implementing some of your ideas.”
“Seriously?” I quizzed, brows heightened.
“You’re the queen of my world now, Demi. You don’t need my permission to act like it.”
Later, as we drove back toward the hotel, Ozias cleared his throat, his voice slightly softening as he spoke. “There’s one more stop I thought we might make before we head back to the hotel.”
“Where?” I questioned.
“Graceland Cemetery, to your family’s estate lot. There’s something I need to show you.”
My heart chilled at his words. I hadn’t stepped foot in that cemetery in years. My father used to take me there yearly on my mother’s birthday, but over time the visits stopped and I didn’t bother to pick up the tradition on my own. It always felt like I was visiting a stranger. I never got to meet her and only knew what she looked like through photos. The idea of facing my family’s lot after already losing so much gavemy stomach a sickchurn. But there was something in the way he looked at me—the sincerity behind his deep-set eyes that showed how much he cared. I couldn’t stop myself from nodding.
The black car began to slow before rolling to a halt just outside the well-manicured lawn and iron cemetery gates. I barely heard the soft crunch of gravel under the tires over the erratic thumping of my heartbeat. Ozias reached over, gently placing his warm hand over mine to stop the trembling I hadn’t even noticed was happening.
“You ready?”
I nodded before reaching for the door handle and stepping out. My eyes stretched across the rows of gray headstones that seemed to stretch on forever. The graveyard was quiet, an eerie reminder that we were enveloped by death.
As we trekked slowly, side by side up the winding path toward the Malone estate, the weight on my chest grew heavier, making it even harder to breathe. Elaine, Cyrus, Dominic—the familiar names of my parents and cousin etched into the headstones triggered an emotional wave of memories I wasn’t sure I was prepared to feel.
I stood there, allowing myself to feel the loss of my mother, my best friend, my cousin, my unborn baby, and my father’s unexpected betrayal—all of it came crashing down on me at once. Before I knew it, my face was wet with hot, frantic tears I hadn’t realized I’d spilled. Trying to hold them back was useless. The levee had already been broken, releasing years of trauma, grief, unrepressed anger, resentment, and heartbreak.
My knees felt hollow, fading in strength. Ozias was right there to anchor me, using his strong arms to steady and comfort me.“I’ve got you,mi amor,” he whispered.
I wept with no attempt at concealment. It was loud, ugly, and freeing. I didn’t give a fuck how I looked. I felt every drop of sorrow I thought I’d buried deep. The teardrops continued tomultiply nonstop, and Ozias remained. His comforting presence was a silent witness to my heartache.
When the tears finally stopped, I wiped my eyes, smearing my mascara even more. I blinked a few times, clearing away the tears in time to catch movement in the distance. I froze, instantly rooting myself where I stood. I couldn’t take my eyes off the figure with the familiar silhouette of a woman.