Chapter 49 - 48 Burning Bridges and Diamonds

Chapter 49: Chapter 48 Burning Bridges and Diamonds

"It doesn’t matter, baby," I said. "You shouldn’t be mean to people just because they were mean to you. That’s not who we are."

Anastelle cut me off. "I know, Mommy. ’Always be kind.’ But they were mean first! There were mean girls, and they shouldn’t even be invited to my party. I want them to leave."

"Anastelle—"

"They told me that because my teddy bear was ugly, I wasn’t invited to their tea party, and I should leave," she hissed, her eyes flashing. "Clara and Mia and Jayden pushed me because I had an ’ugly’ doll. They said it was the ugliest toy they ever saw. And now I have a whole party, and they shouldn’t be here."

Oh, Laziel. What have you done to my baby?

That bastard had dropped my child into a world where she could have anything she pointed at.

Speaking of the devil, the garden gate swung open. Laziel Monroe walked in, hands deep in his pockets. He wasn’t in his usual boring suits. He had on a short-sleeved brown shirt that showed off every single one of his ink-dark tattoos, paired with crisp white trousers. The man looked fucking dangerous and gorgeous at the same time.

"Snackman! You’re here! It’s my birthday!"

Anastelle took off, ready to launch herself at him, but I froze. Walking right behind him, stepping out from his shadow, was a woman.

I thought I was hallucinating. "Guilia?"

Before I could even process it, Anastelle screamed, " Aunt Guilia! You’re here! You came!" She bolted, jumping into the her arms.

Guilia caught her, burying her face in Anastelle’s hair. "I missed you so much, baby."

I was glued to the spot. My heart was doing somersaults. Guilia? My best friend?

Guilia looked... expensive. Her blonde hair was curled instead of hanging straight down her back. Her skin looked healthier. Her cheeks had more color. She wore a fitted red dress that showed just enough cleavage to make it very obvious she had stopped dressing like the broke girl I’d known.

A diamond bracelet glittered around her wrist.

And those fucking Versace shoes.

I knew those shoes.

I had seen them in shop windows and walked away because the price tag made me want to cry.

Life had finally stopped kicking her in the teeth.

And for some reason, that made my chest hurt.

Anastelle was practically vibrating. "I haven’t seen you in a long, long time! You came for my birthday! Where have you been? Do you like my dress? Do you know Snackman? Yay! I got a pony!"

Guilia laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard in ages. "Yes, baby, we’ll see the pony later. But I have something for you." She pulled out a small, framed object from her bag. It was that shitty little crayon drawing Anastelle had made back in our old apartment.

Anastelle gasped, hugging it to her chest. "I remember this!"

"Go show your friends, baby," Guilia whispered, giving her a gentle push.

As Anastelle dragged Laziel away toward the pony, her voice fading into the background—I want them out of here, consider it done, I heard Laziel murmur—I stayed paralyzed.

Guilia turned. She walked toward me, slowly.

She dropped her bag on a table and looked at me. Her eyes were glassy. "Mireya."

I turned my back. I couldn’t do it. "Please, just go."

"Mireya, wait!" She grabbed my arm, her grip desperate. "Please, just listen. I know you hate me. You can slap me, hit me, call me a bitch—do whatever you want, but don’t ignore me. You’re like my sister. You filled the void when I lost my family."

She was sobbing now. "I didn’t mean to do any of this. Not a day passes that I don’t feel guilty. I had no money, no job, nowhere to go. I had to listen to Laziel. I had to survive."

I finally looked at her. "He gave you a job, didn’t he?"

Guilia nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Yes....I’m a manager at his club."

I swallowed hard. "I caused this whole mess. If I had just listened to you back then, we wouldn’t have been in this shit. You told me from the very beginning that I should resign."

"It’s not all on you," Guilia cried, reaching for my hands. "But I’m the one who led you to him in the first place."

"And look at you now," I said, eyeing the diamonds, the red gown, the way she carried herself. "You’re a manager at his club. You’re living like a queen. Is it worth it, Guilia? Are you actually comfortable with it?"

She hesitated, her eyes dropping. "I can afford anything I want now, Mireya. Anything. But it feels like I’m wearing someone else’s skin."

I pulled her into a hug.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

I just held her.

The same girl who used to sleep beside me on that shitty old couch. The same girl who had shared her last piece of bread with me when we were broke. The same girl who had once sat on our kitchen floor, helping Anastelle color that stupid drawing.

She was still Guilia.

Under the diamonds.

Under the expensive dress.

Under all that money.

She was still my girl.

"I missed you," I whispered.

"I missed you more."

I laughed quietly.

"You’re such a liar."

"I am not." She pulled back, wiping her cheeks.

Then she leaned closer, her voice dropped.

"Mireya..."

Something in her tone made me look at her.

"What?"

"We’re getting out of here."

I froze.

"What?"

She glanced around the garden before looking back at me.

"No matter what happens, we’re getting out of here."

I immediately pulled away from her.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Mireya—"

"No. What are you saying?"

"I’m saying we can’t let Laziel rule over us."

"Guilia....you know what happened the last time we tried to escape?"

"That man is a fucking psycho."

"Keep your voice down."

"I don’t care."

"I do."

I looked around quickly.

The garden was loud. Children were screaming. Music was playing. Staff were carrying trays of food.

Nobody appeared to be listening.

But with Laziel, you never fucking knew.

I lowered my voice.

"Do you understand what you’re saying? Do you know what Laziel Monroe is capable of?"

"Yes."

I shook my head.

"He’ll find us. He’ll know before we even leave. You think a man like Laziel doesn’t have people watching every fucking road out of this city?"

Guilia stared at me.

"He doesn’t own me."

"He doesn’t need to own you."

My voice cracked.

"He has money. Power. Men everywhere. Connections I don’t even understand. If we disappear tomorrow, he’ll know before we’ve crossed the border."

She grabbed my hands.

"Then we’ll go somewhere he can’t find us."

"Where?"

She didn’t answer.

"Exactly."

"Mireya—"

"I can’t."

I shook my head.

"I can’t risk Anastelle."

Her expression softened.

"Do you like this?"

"What?"

"Being controlled."

I stared at her.

"Do you like having that man decide where you live? Who you see? What you do? What your daughter gets? What school she attends?"

"It’s not that simple."

"It is."

"No, it fucking isn’t!" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Guilia flinched.

I lowered it again. "You don’t understand what happens if Laziel decides he’s done being patient with me."

"Then leave before he gets the chance."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere."

"He’ll find me."

"Then we disappear properly."

I stared at her.

She stepped closer.

"Mireya, listen to me."

Her eyes were serious now.

"If Laziel finds out who Anastelle really is..."

I went completely still. "Don’t."

"He’s going to find out eventually that Anastelle is a Monroe."

I looked toward the house.

My daughter was somewhere inside with Laziel.

The man who had no idea that the little girl calling him Snackman was actually connected to him.

And suddenly the air felt too fucking thin.

"What happens when he finds out?" Guilia whispered.

I swallowed.

"He’ll know she’s his brother’s daughter."

"And?"

I didn’t answer.

Guilia’s eyes hardened.

"Mireya, the Monroe family is desperately looking for an heir."

"I know."

"No. I don’t think you do."

She grabbed my arms.

"If they discover what Anastelle is, they won’t just leave her with you because you’re her mother... They’ll want her. They’ll fucking take her."

"No! No! She is my daughter!"

"And that’s exactly why I’m scared!"

Guilia’s voice broke.

"They have money, lawyers, connections, private investigators. What do you think happens when powerful people decide a child belongs to their family?"

I couldn’t breathe.

"They’ll take her from me."

Guilia didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

The thought had already lodged itself inside my head.

I pictured Anastelle being taken from my arms.

Her screaming.

Calling for me.

Calling for me while I stood there unable to do anything.

Maybe Guilia was right. Maybe staying was more dangerous than leaving.

Guilia glanced toward the mansion.

"There are things about that man you don’t know."

My brows pulled together. "What things?"

"He’s not just a CEO. There’s something... something evil in the way he operates. I see things at the club. I hear shit. That man is capable of things that go way beyond billionaire games."

She reached into her designer bag and slid a slim, unfamiliar phone into my hand.

"I’ve been saving," she muttered. "I’ve been skimming off the top of the club’s accounts for weeks. I’ve got enough cash to keep us moving for a long time. I’ll sell my diamonds, my gold—fuck the Versace, I don’t care about any of it. We just need to go."

My gaze shifted to Laziel. He looked completely calm.

Then he turned his head. straight toward the glass. Straight toward me.

Our eyes met. His expression didn’t change, but his gaze dropped to the phone in my hand.

I immediately shoved it behind my back.

Laziel’s eyes narrowed.

Then Anastelle grabbed his arm, pulling his attention away.

I released a breath.

Guilia whispered beside me.

"You see? You can’t even hide a fucking phone from that man."