I look over my shoulder several times, seeing Brooks still standing there watching me as I follow Tristan down the mountainside. "Come on, Dani, quicker. We need to move fast if you want to keep them far away from him." I give him a brisk nod, trying to make my feet move expeditiously after his long-legged form. As I try to keep up with Tristan's agile frame I begin realizing just how much he held back when he accompanied me on my daily runs. A scream tears itself from my lungs when we are met face-to-face by two men with drawn guns. Tristan steps sideways, covering my body partially with his, hands held out in front of him with caution. They're speaking to him in Albanian but, it would appear, Tristan can't speak or understand the language because he has yet to respond.

That has me rattling my brain as to why he would be my guard. Why would they have someone who can't even speak the language of our homeland protecting me? He's not protecting you. He's your captor, making sure you don't run away. Right.

I come out from around him and say, "unë jam Daniela Dedaj," confirming who I am but they aim their guns at Tristan. "Ai është roja ime." He's my guard. The two of them give us the once over before telling us they'll be accompanying us back to the compound. I can tell they're suspicious of him but neither Tristan nor I make a complaint. We start to follow and Tristan has a trained gun pulled on him. He says nothing about it the entire walk back.

How the hell do they not know who he is? The man has been with me for weeks running up this trail. I guess they're about as clueless as to who this man is as me. If he's friend or foe I'm still unsure. All I know is he's not who he's said he is to my family. He has his own agenda — one that clearly involves me.

My jaw clenches tightly as we continue our decent, thinking about what Brooks said. Tristan had known Torey was alive. He'd known but had still let me mourn him, watching me 'fall into a depression' as he'd put it. Tristan could've told me. He could've confided in me and I wouldn't have said anything. He could've given me that small reprieve and yet he didn't. Instead he tried to comfort me in his arms— tried to take advantage of my brokenness.

Once we're at the bottom I have to suck in a sharp breath at the carnage that awaits us. I freeze amongst the landscape, taking everything in. There are dead bodies all over the place. There's brains splattered, guts spilling out, and men groaning out in agony. A loud pang resounds in my head and a ringing noise in my ears cancels all the chaos out of my hearing, from everything happening around me.

All of this done to either get my son and I away from my father or to keep us here. All of this death because of us. Glancing around numbly I feel a sense of guilt flood through me. Do I really have it so bad? I have a room. I have food. I should feel content at the life my family has made here for me instead of being the cause of all of this gruesomeness.

My eyes land on a young man, one too young to be dead. His eyes brown, wide-open and lifeless. The urge to regurgitate is too strong to hold back and it has me doubling over, spewing all the contents in my stomach.

"Daniela?" My name is a muffled sound. At least I think it's my name. "Daniela—" there's something else being said to me but I can't register it. Arms lift me up to a standing position after I'm done being sick. I open and close my eyes a few times to clear my vision then am able to comprehend that I'm face to face with my father. He's saying something, murmuring words I can't understand. It's a mixture of Albanian and English. From what I'm gathering, he's glad nothing happened to me. He embraces me tightly but all I can do is blink.

"Wolf." I'm finally able to utter out after an eternity. "Where is he? Is my son safe?"

My father finally loosens his hold on me. "Po, I dashur. He is fine." Relief floods through me. "He's safe inside."

"Can I..." I can't control the sob as I look over to the dead young man on the ground again. "Can I see him? Ju lutem? Please?" I need to see him for my own mental well being after this but my father looks wary. I want to yell, plead, cry, beg him and I'm about to before Tristan clears his throat, breaking the tension growing between my father and I, making me bite back my desperation.

"Sir, she had the chance to leave." My father's features twist to enraged, his grip on my arms tightened painfully. "But she didn't leave. Daniela chose to stay here— with her family. With you." His brow furrows, hands loosening their hold on me. He glances at Tristan but before he can say anything Tristan adds, "Brooks had me at gunpoint on the mountain. She could've gone with him, left her son, her family but she didn't. She chose to stay here. She told him to leave."

"Is this true?"

"Yes Baba. I chose to stay for you, for my family." My son specifically but I don't dare say that. He lets go of my arms then grabs ahold of both of my cheeks in his hands with a wide smile, one that reminds me of the way he used to look at me— like he was proud. I haven't seen that look in a long time. "I'm not going anywhere." More tears spill after I'd uttered those words, at the realization of how true they might be. I may never leave this place.

But Torey is alive, a little voice inside of me whispers. As long as he is alive he will fight for what is his. He will burn the world to the ground to get it. I smile at my father with those thoughts floating around in my head.

"Then today was a success!" The malice he'd had in his voice every time he'd talked to me all but gone. Despite the massacre that surrounds us he's happy— with me; for the first time since I can't even remember. "Come! We shall celebrate!" He turns on his heel and begins walking toward the compound. If it wasn't for Tristan's hand on the small of my back, urging me to follow, I think I would've just stayed cemented to the place I was in.

"You're welcome." Tristan's voice is barely audible but I'd still heard him.

"I'm not thanking you for anything considering you've been trying to manipulate me for who knows how long." He lets out a heavy sigh. "You're not even going to try and deny it?" My voice a touch louder than it would be which has my father looking over his shoulder at the two of us. I give him a small smile which has him returning it with one of his own, a genuine one too. 

After a moment he replies, "it wasn't all intentional, Daniela. We'll talk more about it later. I'll explain when we don't have an audience."

"Oh you bet your sweet ass you will explain everything. You'll be lucky if To..." I don't let his name finish falling from my lips. I give Tristan a pointed look so he knows who I'm talking about. "Lucky if you survive all of this." His jaw clenches and his body tenses slightly. Once Torey finds out what happened, finds out about this man from Brooks, he'll want to murder him. There's no doubt in my mind.

✩✩✩

It's been hours and I still haven't been able to see my son. I was assured that after he calmed down and the situation was all figured out that I would be able to. My father said he didn't want Wolf to associate me with any more bad or scary situations. A mother shouldn't be seen in the eyes of their child that way, my father had said. It had taken everything in me to smile nicely at that, to agree with him, because my father is the reason my son has experienced so many traumatizing things— not me.

He had been there when his father was gutted, nearly made to watch the entire situation as I had— as my father made me. But I suppose it's fine for fathers to be seen in that light by their children, to jail their children like animals. I swallow back the bile in my throat thinking about almost being auctioned off like breeding stock to the man that nearly killed Torey.

Torey. I can't help the smile that beams back at me in my reflection. He's alive. I finish putting my earrings in and glance over myself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, I finally look presentable. I caress the black silk that wraps around my body elegantly. The dress ties around the neck, covering my ample chest. It's a high-low and exposes my back. I'm surprised my father was okay with even that amount of skin showing.

There's a knock on the door that has me telling whoever it is to come in, not that anyone really needed my permission for anything around here. At least voicing it out loud made me feel like I had some semblance of control. Through the mirror I see Tristan entering, dressed head to toe in black and I don't know how I hadn't even registered before just how much he resembles Torey. His features are missing the complete cocky arrogance Torey's always had though, so there's that. He's missing his passionate blazing blues too.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here to escort you to dinner. And I want to talk to you." I turn around and assess him in a serious manner, crossing my arms across my chest. "Can we talk?"

"Talk."

"I never meant to get close to you, Dani. At least not in the manner I had on the mountain." When he'd had his arms around me, hugging and caressing me.

"Daniela. Only my friends and people close to me are allowed to call me Dani." He gives me a nod of the head. "Continue."

"I met Torey while doing a job in London together a couple years back, after you had left. I used a false name because my family name is rather well known in the crime world and not in a positive way. Anyway, after the job, Torey said he saw potential in me and wanted to recruit me into the syndicate. So I became part of it."

"That doesn't explain why you were assigned to me or why you're with me in Albania. You don't even speak Albanian. I don't know why my father—"

"Your father chose the candidates but it was your mother who insisted that you were put in my charge."

"What?"

"You're mother is the one who pushed the decision."

"Buy why... You said you've used a cover because of your family's reputation in the crime world." He gives me a brisk nod. "And what reputation is that?"

There's another knock on the door which has Tristan opening it automatically. It wasn't a good look that we were both alone in my bedroom together but when my mother steps through she looks anything but disappointed. She glances between the two of us with a happy smile. "The two of you are getting along well, I see."

"Ma'am." Tristan gives her a tight-lipped smile.

"Come here, Daniela." I swallow back my irritation and do as my mother says. "Now be a gentleman, Tristan, offer her your arm." He juts it out for me, giving me an apologetic look. "Don't the two of you make a lovely pair."

"That's all your daughter, Mrs Dedaj."

"Call me Taty." She gives his bicep an affectionate squeeze.

"Taty." He repeats which earns him a warm smile, one that my mother hardly ever wears.

"Join us for dinner, won't you?" She doesn't wait for his response before heading out of the room, expecting us to follow. That's when I realize it's not Tristan who's been manipulating me. It's my mother who's been manipulating the both of us.

A/N:
What is Tatyana up to?
Thoughts?

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