The plane rides had been long and strenuous on my psyche. My mind whispering in a never-ending loop of torment what kind of life would be awaiting me back in my parents' home country. Because I know that whatever it is it won't be pleasant. And once we left America the actuality of Brooks finding me, even with the help of Torey's parents, became a fleeting notion. There would be no getting to me once we arrived; especially without Torey's help. Torey at least knew the specifics and general layouts but even he didn't know everything. If he were alive maybe he could help. Maybe. But Torey isn't. Torey is dead.

The moisture that seems to be a near-constant in my eyes these days returns but I refuse to let it fall. My ice-colored eyes remain a glassy tear-filled prison of pent-up emotion, frozen with the finality of Torey's gruesome death. Ever since the showers I have tried to keep my feelings in check, my behavior.

Tristan's words had been a reminder every time I felt a wave of rebelliousness roll through me. "If you ever want to see your kid again..." So I sat nicely in my seat, completely quiet and obedient. I listened to every word my father said like the 'docile house cat' I was suggested to be. Now here, alone in the car with Tristan, I've kept my mouth shut; not asking any of the questions that tempted the tip of my tongue.

I'm lost in all my thoughts in the back of the Mercedes when I sense someone's eyes on me. I flick mine up to the rearview where I find Tristan's hazel gaze. It shifts off to the road immediately, not giving me anything of much consequence other than the fact I'd sensed him staring.

Tristan weaves in and out of traffic effortlessly, like he knows these roads as well as I do. Hell, maybe he does. I know nothing about the large man driving me around. The one who'd been allowed to watch me shower. The third man that's ever seen me naked in my life. I let my gaze linger on his profile in the rearview. I don't recognize him in the least bit but, then again, I'd only ever had eyes for Torey.

Looking away from the man and out my window I notice the scenery. It becomes all too familiar, anxiety inducing, really, which means we're getting close to the compound. We're now traveling up the winding mountain side that my family's home is built into. Home. You couldn't really call it that. No. It's more like a fortress considering it's impenetrable. My father is probably reveling in the fact that he's got me here because, knowing him, he'll probably never let me leave again. There will be no moving across the country to get away from him now. Here he'll be able to control me— something he's always been so adamant about doing.

I suppose I would be okay with his ruthless scrutiny as long as I could be with my son, could take care of him like I should've been from the start. I know my father will have different plans because, to him, I'd abandoned my son. I'd given him up. That is not something a mother does. That is something unforgivable in my father's eyes. I'm not naive enough anymore to think that he won't use that situation and him to hurt me. I'm well aware of the mental torment that will be bestowed upon me in this God forsaken place for however long I'm here.

It's not long before we get to a gated entrance where the procession of cars begins to parade into. I eye all the fancy vehicles that belong to my father and the handfuls of men splayed throughout the space. Surrounded. I am surrounded. I let out a hearty sigh and then a sort of frightened giggle of a noise.

"Is there something comical that I'm unaware of?" His tone deep and unamused.

"No." It's just ironic how I thought I had done everything in my power to keep my son and myself away from this place and yet here we are. We're trapped. Back in the arms of everything I'd tried to escape from.

"You look like you want to say otherwise." He adds as he parks the vehicle.

My eyes flick to his in the rearview again with, "you know, Tristan, I'm surprised you're even talking to me." None of the other men ever addressed me or spoke to me aside from Remy and Ram. Even Torey hadn't dared communicate with me initially. No, not until the first time we were alone together had he struck up a conversation. We'd done much more than talk that night. "Most of the men barely even look at me let alone talk to me." Or see me naked for that matter.

He's quiet for a moment, looking away before meeting my gaze directly, pointedly even. "After what happened to Torey I'm sure none of the men will so much as breathe in your direction. So I suppose your observation is a valid one. I guess I'm just curious about the one weakness the toughest man I've ever met had."

"Weakness?"

"Yes. Weakness."

"What do you mean by that?" The look on his face tells me he wants to roll his eyes but he doesn't. "What?"

"You, Daniela, you were Torey's weakness." That makes my eyes snap down to my lap. I fidget with my hands not knowing how to respond to that. "None of us would have ever thought the man even remotely capable of having one but there you were, right in front of everyone, nearly the entire time."

I was Torey's weakness. I made him weak. The truthfulness in that resonated somewhere deep inside of me, tearing into the already festering internal wound inside of my chest. Torey's vision was always clouded around me, when it came to situations involving me. He never made rational decisions, never thought clearly... because of me.

This is my fault.

"Come on. Let's go."

His words don't snap me out of the numbness that had just spread all over my entire being. It takes me a moment but I eventually fumble with the door latch until I manage to get it open. I get up and out of the vehicle with my eyes on the garage floor afterward. It's only a moment before I feel a familiar arm wrap around my shoulders, guiding me forward.

"Your mother is looking forward to seeing you again. Even after your betrayal to your blood and family she still misses her little girl." When I don't respond to him I can feel his body tense. The grip on my shoulder tightens. "Are you not excited to see your mother as well?"

"I am, baba." The grip loosens a minuscule amount as we continue walking. "I miss her very much." It was true to an extent. I missed the woman I knew and loved growing up with but something Torey had said that night left a bad taste in my mouth. He had said she knew about us, our relationship. He had said she was working with Torey's dirty boss.

"I am happy to hear it as will your mother be." We pace a few more steps in silence until he clears his throat, something he does when broaching an uncomfortable subject. "She has taken good care of the boy, Wolfie, as you call him." It's clear he doesn't like the name. "I think she likes him more than me these days, more than anyone I'd be willing to wager. She spends all of her time with him."

My mother is as cold and callous as they come, except for when it came to being a mom. She was always kind and caring toward me, even loving when I was younger. There had always been a side of her though, lurking just outside of the edge of that personality, that I knew was different. Now I understand why— she's married to a completely ruthless sadist. It made me wonder if he'd ever laid a hand on her in the manner he had laid hands on me. I had never seen her with scratches, bumps, or bruises. She never had so much as a blemish. Then again, my mother hadn't betrayed him in the way that I had. Family is everything to her. She wouldn't just up and leave like I had. My mother wouldn't give her child away, not even if she thought she was saving them.

We pass through the entryway and I still keep my eyes to the floor. I don't want to look around, don't want to be reminded of the gilded prison I will be spending time in for the foreseeable future. No, I keep my gaze fixed on the marble floor until I see a pair of small feet. My whole body fills with such a strong and indescribable emotion because I recognize those little feet. The docile house cat in me jumps right out the window when I look up to see Wolfie standing in front of my mother, her hands are clasping his shoulders tightly.

"Wolfie..." When his eyes light with recognition I lose all of my composure. I rip out of my father's grip and drop down in front of him, enveloping him in my arms, away from the hands my mother had placed on his shoulders. "I missed you so much. I—" I choke on the words in my throat because his little arms wrap around my neck. When I pull away slightly to look at him it's the saddest and yet most satisfying thing. From his fluffy black mop of hair to his lapis-colored eyes filled with wonderment to the pouty lips, fuller than any man or boy should be allowed to have, he's the mirror image of Torey. And just like I missed the little boy in my arms dearly, I missed his father just as much.

Except I will never be able to hold Torey in my arms ever again. I will never be able to have him like this in my arms. The thoughts make me pull Wolfie into a tight embrace, relishing in the warmth and comfort he gives me from the inside out. At least I will always have him as a reminder of the man I had so irrevocably been in love with.

But all too soon someone tries to take him away from me. I don't fight them, knowing if I do it will make ever holding him again a near impossibility. It's when he starts crying and reaching out for me that my insides start to shatter and collapse. I can't do anything to comfort my own child as he struggles in my mother's arms. After a few moments he quiets and calms... somewhat.

His little bright blues are looking at my mother grumpily, black hair askew from his tantrum, and I can't help but smile. He's a fighter. That's for sure.

Just like his father.

A/N:
Happy April Fool's Day!

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Sorry it's been a little while since I've updated. Life's just a little crazy right now.