Page 44 of His Enemy's Daughter
Reality hits around mile three. I just drugged my guards. Stole a car. Fled my father’s house with no plan beyond reaching Mauricio.
Father will be furious when he discovers I’m gone. He’ll send people to find me. And when he does—
My phone buzzes. Not the encrypted app—my regular phone, the one Father tracks.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Father. Already awake, already aware.
I pull over, hands shaking so badly I can barely hold the device. Then I do something I’ve wanted to do for twenty-eight years.
I throw the phone out the window, watching it shatter against concrete with savage satisfaction.
Let him track that.
The drive to the safehouse takes forty minutes that feel like hours. Every car behind me might be Father’s men. Every siren could be police he’s already alerted. But I keep driving, keep moving, because stopping means capture and capture means death.
Mauricio’s car is already there when I arrive. He’s standing in the doorway before I’ve fully parked, and the expression on his face—relief and fury and something that looks like fear—nearly breaks me.
“Regina.” He’s moving before I’m out of the car, hands framing my face, eyes scanning me for injuries. “What the fuck happened? You were supposed to wait for a signal—”
“I couldn’t wait.” The words tumble out in gasps. “Lorenzo Di Noto killed his previous wives. Father knows and doesn’t care. Giordano gave me his car and his gun and I drugged my guards and climbed out a window and Father already knows I’m gone and—”
“Breathe.” His thumbs brush across my cheekbones, grounding me with his touch. “You’re safe. You’re here. Breathe with me.”
I try, but panic is a living thing now—consuming oxygen, stealing thought. “I can’t go back. Do you understand? I can’t ever go back. If he catches me—”
“He won’t catch you.” Steel enters Mauricio’s voice, absolute and unshakeable. “Because you’re mine now, and I protect what’s mine. Come inside before someone sees you.”
He guides me into the safehouse with one arm around my shoulders, and I’m suddenly aware of how I must look—wild-eyed, disheveled, shaking like I’ve been electrocuted.
“Your hands.” He catches my wrists, turning them over to reveal scraped palms where the trellis tore skin, splinters still embedded in the flesh. “Regina, what did you do?”
“Climbed down three stories on a trellis because the guards were blocking the hallway.” The absurdity of it hits me, and suddenly I’m laughing—hysterical, unhinged laughter that sounds nothing like humor. “I drugged armed men with sleeping pills and escaped like some kind of action movie protagonist except I’m not badass, I’m just terrified and running out of options—”
“Hey.” He pulls me against his chest, and the solid warmth of him finally penetrates the panic. “You’re the most badass person I know. You survived twenty-eight years of Sabino Picarelli’s control. You built an escape plan while pretending to be his perfect daughter. You just drugged guards and scaled a building to choose freedom over safety. That’s not terror—that’s courage.”
“It’s desperation.” My fingers clutch his shirt like a lifeline. “I’m desperate and reckless and probably going to get us both killed.”
“Good thing I’m excellent at not dying, then.” His lips brush against my temple. They’re warm and reassuring. “Though I’ll admit, your dramatic escape wasn’t exactly subtle. Your father’s going to mobilize every resource he has to find you.”
“I know.” I pull back enough to meet his storm-gray eyes. “That’s why I’m here. Not just because I need protection, but because I’m ready—really ready—to burn his empire to the ground. Nomore careful planning or waiting for perfect timing. I want him destroyed, Mauricio. Completely, utterly destroyed.”
Something dangerous flashes across his features—approval mixed with concern. “That’s a different mission than the one we agreed to.”
“The mission changed when he sold me to a man who murders his wives.” My voice hardens with resolve I didn’t know I possessed. “So either you’re with me on this new path, or I’ll find another way. But I’m not going back. Ever.”
“You think I’d let you go back?” His hands tighten on my shoulders, possessive and protective. “You think I’d let Sabino within a hundred feet of you after what you just told me?”
“Then help me.” The words come out sharp, edged with venom I’ve been swallowing for twenty-eight years. “Help me make him bleed for every lie, every manipulation, every single moment he treated me like something he owned instead of someone he raised.”
Mauricio studies my face for a long moment. There’s calculation happening behind his eyes—weighing risks, considering consequences, planning moves on a board that just became exponentially more complicated.
Finally, he nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, we burn it all down.” His smile is sharp enough to cut. “But we do it smart. Fast, but smart. Because rushing into this gets us both killed, and I have plans for our future that don’t involve being corpses.”
