Cara’s POV
There isn’t much to say.
Literally, there isn’t.
I’d never been to a theatre to watch a play, but I’ve read tons of novels where the saying, ‘The show must go on’ was used. That was the best description of our current situation.
Life took unexpected turns, the unusual becoming the new normal… and in my case, the lines between what’s real and unreal become distorted, yet we live.
Two months have passed since that day… the day the first group of Adonis’s men was taken. Since then, more have followed.
Now, we’re just living like things are normal; life at the mansion was crumbling. Luca barely shows up at my father’s home anymore. He calls only when he has important information, and the call is never two-way. Day and night, I’m surrounded by complaints about his unavailability. Even when I tried to reach him, I was met with the same silence.
‘The number you’re trying to call is busy; please try again later’.
I think we broke him.
Although Cecelia seems to believe the ‘we’ should be replaced with ‘she,’ I didn’t agree.
The words he said the last time we saw him… they kept ringing in my head.
Adonis’s absence, the missing men, everything that was going wrong. He was bearing the brunt of it all…
Did we really abandon him to shoulder it all? Yes. Was it intentional? No. We never agreed to? Yes. But did we do so anyway? Yes, we did.
Luca wasn’t fine.
Freddie told us that much before he was taken too. Since that day, three batches of men had been taken.
How?
It isn’t an easy fit to take men who were trained and skilled for battle; at this stage, we all were beginning to consider that this might be a willing action of the men.
The method by which they were taken, no one knew. All we were certain of was that they went out and never returned.
The timeframe between each incident is always random; it’s hard to monitor. Especially while we’re short-handed.
The Bernardi mansion was in chaos. For fear of being taken, most of the men had pulled back. The ones that remained were living of their own volition.
Adonis wasn’t around. They didn’t know why and had concluded with the little they were seeing. The conclusion resulted in Luca being ignored and disrespected.
My father’s men were busy enough between offering him, myself, and my husband protection and then also going on missions and runs for him; they were already occupied.
Recruiting new hands would’ve been an option, but there was no time. The whole process of interviewing, training, and the test of loyalty, which was very important in our world, was one no one had the time to juggle.
It was common for news of a new batch being taken to be greeted with a sigh, and my father repeated, ‘We’ll get them back. Focus on the plan.”
He seems to believe that the ulterior motive of whoever was taking them wasn’t to kill them off. After a deep thought and analysis of the situation, Adonis and I had no reason to doubt that speculation.
Why else was it that only the Bernardi’s trusted men, the ones who would forever be on our side and should be lending a helping hand to Luca, were the ones missing?
I sighed, half sitting and half sleeping on the sofa in the lounge, with a pillow to support my back and my head against the armrest, enjoying the now-familiar quiet. My father was out; Jacob and Cecelia had returned weeks ago if you overlook their occasional one-day visit to see how things were going.
My eyes were tightly closed as I tried to get some quick shut-eye. The time to my due date was fast approaching, and sleeping at night had become a luxury for me.
Not because I didn’t want to, but with my heart always heavy with worry, sleep was not something that came easily. I had a month at most to go, being thirty-one weeks gone, although my OB-GYN seems to believe I have less.
My bump was enormous; I could barely see my feet. The pregnancy drained my energy, leaving me restless and exhausted all the time.
… and don’t get me started on the kicks.
Based on research, the time frame should be between 36 and 40 weeks, which I desperately wish should be my case.
Maybe, just maybe, Adonis would finally agree to have the surgery done before the babies were born.
Yes, he still hadn’t.
From my long speech, it’s obvious that the estimated time for our plan conclusion had lapsed, and we were yet to achieve anything, which automatically equals a delay in the surgery.
He wasn’t ready to be stuck on a bed helplessly while things were getting out of hand. Those were his words. I had screened Doctor Bruno’s calls and texts of warnings and convincing to get him to the hospital pronto.
No matter how I tried, I couldn’t do it.
It was the major cause of the heavy weight in my heart; he could die at any time, I kept thinking, yet apart from his loss of appetite and sleep, everything seemed to be going fine.
Fate seems to be kind to him.
I was sure that he was experiencing more symptoms but chose not to reveal them to me, but if he had the strength to jump into a fighting ring every three days, I didn’t think it was that serious.
I’d washed my hands of convincing him and resorted to guilt-tripping him every night before bed.
The words from last night replayed in my mind.
“You know, this is a dangerous gamble. I would never forgive you if you left me behind.” I had threatened.
The awkward tension between us was at its highest peak; watching him throw about seven big pills down his throat, I couldn’t hold back myself from spitting those words at him.
I closed her eyes, picturing Adonis’s face and the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. Would I ever see that smile again? The fear was a cold knot in her stomach.
I didn’t bother asking about his plan’s progression. I wasn’t interested… not at the cost of his life. Conversation between us was strained, restricted to the daily greetings and small talk, but I backed out immediately after it began drifting to the topic of the ring.
This morning was the same. I woke up to a simple kiss from him, and then he proceeded to inform me that he’d be out all day at the ring. He seemed a little more restless than usual, causing an unease that settled in my stomach.
From the little I caught when he and my father were speaking, he was known as the right-hand man of Adrian in their circles and had been introduced into the sex ring a month ago.
The only predicament they were facing was getting implicating evidence that Diavolo ran it-one that even the cops wouldn’t be able to ignore.
Yet I didn’t care. No matter how great my love for my husband was, I had to consider my babies. I wasn’t going to go insane with worry over their father and leave them behind without a mother when I wasn’t sure they’d have him either.
My heart clenched at the thought, my body sinking further into the sofa.
The heavens knew I was tired. It wasn’t the ideal thing to do, but I wanted to nap for three years and wake up to the news that all this was over.
In a few weeks, it will be our anniversary, and it’s disheartening that we’ve spent more than half of our marriage facing one struggle after another. Lately, I’ve been thinking that a break from everything wouldn’t be a bad idea, but it’s just not possible.
What use was it if I ran away knowing the problems were still persistent?
A sob caught in my throat and I pressed my hand against my belly, feeling the flutters of the triplets.
“Please,” I whispered, “Let this all be over soon.”
An engine’s roar cut through the quiet and I knew instantly-
He was back.
My eyes flew open. I glanced at the clock: 6:03pm, earlier than usual. My face scrunched up at this new development.
Pulling myself up, I’d barely risen to my feet when a maid rushed up to me, bowing in respect.
“My husband is back, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, and he brought a guest along.” She replied softly, making my frown deepen.
A guest?
“Someone I know?” I asked.
“No, ma’am.” She glanced around the empty room, peering as though hidden figures would jump out of the walls. “The man Master Miguel has always, mentioned-
My heart fell.
-I believe it’s him.”
The door flew open as if on cue, the instant maid finished her sentence. Four men stormed in, forming a protective circle around me. Her words were undeniable now.
Adonis brought home Diavolo?