Chapter 85 12pm
Graffiti smeared the concrete walls—angry colors, jagged words. A single floodlight cut through the darkness, casting long, distorted shadows across the dusty floor. Broken bricks and old wooden pallets littered the ground.
Somewhere inside, water dripped steadily, echoing like a ticking clock. A place where no one would hear you scream.
Gustavo parked opposite Mercer’s car.
I stepped out.
The cold night air hit my face, sharp and metallic. I nodded once to Dominic, then to Mercer.
“Cousin,” Dominic greeted, smoke spilling from his mouth. “You always arrive like death itself.”
“Do you have him?” I asked Mercer.
Mercer nodded. “In the trunk.”
One of his men walked to the car and opened it.
They dragged Raymond out.
A sack covered his head. His hands were bound behind his back. He stumbled forward blindly, his knees buckling as they shoved him to the ground.
He hit the concrete face-first with a groan.
The sound of it was… satisfying.
I walked closer, slow and deliberate.
“Is the paperwork ready?” I asked Mercer.
“Yes. Processing. His cell is prepared.”
Raymond lifted his head slightly, and even with the sack over his face, I knew he recognized my voice.
“Damien!” he shouted hoarsely. “Damien, please—”
I didn’t answer him.
Instead, I turned to Dominic. “I’ll ride with you.”
Dominic smirked. “Of course you will.”
Raymond was shoved back into Mercer’s car, still shouting my name as if it could save him.
It didn’t.
We drove for three hours.
Highways turned into dirt roads. Dirt roads into fenced-off land. Finally, we reached the drop site—a heavily guarded compound with towering gates and floodlights aimed outward like watchful eyes.
Dominic stopped his car a distance away.
We sat there in silence, watching Mercer’s men drag Raymond out once more.
The gate opened slowly and Raymond disappeared inside. And just like that, he was gone.
Dominic exhaled smoke. “Done.”
Relief didn’t come, only exhaustion.
He turned to me. “You remember our deal.”
“I will provide the girls,” I said quietly.
He smiled. “In a month or I will come to collect.”
The sun was rising by the time we returned to the hotel. Dominic clapped my shoulder. “It was fun seeing you again, cousin. We should do this more often.”
I didn’t answer instead I walked inside without looking back. When I entered my room, I locked the door and collapsed onto the bed.
My body felt heavy. My mind felt heavier.
I pulled out my phone, Jasmine’s picture filled the screen.
My tesoro.
I booked a flight for 12 p.m.
Then I let sleep take me, knowing soon I would go home and pretend none of this darkness had touched me at all.
~
JASMINE
I sat at Darcy’s kitchen island, watching her plate the two boxes of pizza she had just bought for us.
She moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who had spent her whole life feeding other people. One slice. Then another, then a third. She arranged them neatly on one plate before repeating the same careful pattern on the second.
The smell of melted cheese and warm bread filled the air, but my stomach twisted instead of growling. My thoughts were too loud for hunger.
Darcy picked up both plates and nodded toward the living room. “Come, dear. Before it gets cold.”
I followed her, my steps slow, my mind somewhere far away. We settled onto the couch, the television humming softly in the background.
A sitcom played, laugh tracks spilling into the quiet room, but none of it registered with me. I picked up my plate and rested it against my knees, holding it like it might anchor me to the moment.
I could feel Darcy watching me.
Not in a way that felt invasive—more like she was trying to read the storm gathering behind my eyes. Darcy had that gift. She always knew when something weighed on me, even when I tried to hide it behind smiles and silence.
Her gaze lingered. Gentle. Patient.
I shifted uncomfortably and forced my voice to sound casual.“Have you spoken to Damien today?”
Darcy blinked, surprised by the question“No, dear. Why?”
My brows knitted together before I could stop them. “I tried calling him all day. He hasn’t answered.”
Darcy tilted her head slightly. “He’s probably busy, Jasmine. You know how his work can be.”
Busy.
That word echoed in my head like an excuse I had already repeated to myself a dozen times. I nodded, though it did nothing to calm the ache in my chest.
“Yes… I know.”
But knowing didn’t make missing him easier.
I missed him in the quiet moments—the ones where his absence felt like a second shadow in the room. I missed the way his cologne lingered on the pillows. The way he’d hum when he walked into a room, like the world didn’t weigh on him when he was near me.
I needed him. I needed his arms around me, needed him to press his lips to my temple and whisper that everything would be okay.
Even if it was a lie.
Because lies could still feel like safety when spoken by someone you loved. My fingers tightened around the edge of the plate. The contract would be over in a month.
The thought slid into my mind like a blade. I didn’t know how to bring it up to Damien. I didn’t even know if I should. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the decision had already been made for me.
With Uncle Tom coming back and admitting he had not returned with good news, it meant only one thing.
I would be leaving, leaving New York, leaving this life, leaving Damien. Disappearing again and now that my sperm donor was out, he would be looking for me. I knew it the way you know when a storm is coming—felt it in my bones.
I would never let him find me. But would Damien let me go? Would he fight for me? Would he demand answers I wasn’t ready to give? Would he look at me like I had betrayed him?
My heart clenched at the thought. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize Darcy had been talking to me until her voice grew louder, tinged with concern.
“Jasmine?”
I blinked.“Sorry, Darcy… what were you saying?”
She turned fully toward me now, setting her plate down on the coffee table.
Her brows furrowed, lines of worry creasing her kind face“Are you okay, dear?”
I forced a smile that felt fragile at best.
“I’m fine, Darcy" She didn’t look convinced.