“Protect her from whom?”
Again, there’s hesitation. Then finally, he speaks. And his words send a shudder down my spine. “The Tribunal.”
“What did she do, Santiago?” I push. “She was just gone, and you never said.”
His forehead is creased, and I swear I can see the pain in his eyes, and I hate it.
“Tell me.”
“I chose you. I chose you over her, Ivy. I chose our family.”
“What?”
“Will you go with me?”
I nod, although I’m reluctant. Because no matter what she’s done to me or anyone else, I don’t want to see her standing where I stood before The Tribunal.
11 Ivy
My conversation with Santiago leaves me more confused than ever. Why did he have to make a choice between his sister and me? What did she do?
But a part of me is warmed by what he said, too.
He chose me.
He chose our family.
On Saturday morning, a box arrives from a boutique in New York City, and later that evening, I am dressed in a floor-length satin gown in a deep emerald, and if I look down, I can just see the tiniest swell of my stomach. I am sure it will be unrecognizable to anyone who doesn’t know, but I see it. It’s the way the fabric drapes itself over every curve, and I’m sure when I look at Santiago’s face, when I see his eyes alight on exactly the same place, this is why he chose this particular dress.
He nods, his pride obvious, and wraps a hand around the back of my head to draw me in to hug me, kiss me. But when he pulls away, I see anxiety there, too, in the crease between his eyebrows.
“You look beautiful.”
“Wow, you really do,” Eva says. Walking out of the kitchen, she’s shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth from a giant tub under her arm. She’s also barefoot and wearing bright yellow pajamas, and I realize how comfortable she feels here. How at home.
Santiago checks his watch. “Didn’t you eat dinner?”
“That was an hour ago. This is called a snack.” She makes a point of saying the word snack slowly for him.
“Eva,” I say.
“Besides, it’s movie night,” she continues.
“Movie night?” I ask.
“Marco set up a TV in my room.”
“He did what?” It’s Santiago.
“And he gave me his Netflix log in.” She shrugs a shoulder and turns away. “You guys have fun at your boring dinner.”
“I’m going to need to talk to Marco. She shouldn’t have a television in her bedroom.”
“Why not? She’s a kid.”
“I’m not sure—”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you know my mom wasn’t feeding her breakfast so she wouldn’t put on weight?”
He looks at me like he’s confused. “She what? The girl is too skinny if anything.”
“I’m just saying she’s had a lot of restrictions placed on her already so let her be.”
“Fine. For now. But I’m still talking to Marco. Come on. We’re going to be late.”
“You do you,” I say and let him lead me out. We take the Aston Martin again, but I follow Santiago’s gaze to the rearview mirror to see two men follow us off the property.
“Additional security,” Santiago says. “Nothing to worry about.”
“What are you going to do to Abel if you find him?”
“When I find him.”
“Okay. When you find him. What are you going to do?”
He glances at me quickly, then back to the road as he shifts, driving twice the speed limit. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Do you realize that’s like a standard answer for you?”
“What?”
“You don’t tell me anything. Not about Mercedes. Not about my father or Hazel and now Abel. He’s still my brother, Santiago.”
“Half brother.”
“I’m not saying he shouldn’t be punished, but…” I trail off, remembering the bloody scene I glimpsed at the house where those men had kept me. “I don’t want you to do anything…I don’t know…illegal.”
He looks at me, eyebrows high.
“Even if he’s only a half brother, he’s still that.”
“Do I need to remind you of what he’s done?”
I look out the window and watch the city come into view as we ride in silence for the rest of the trip. When we arrive at IVI, I can see the number of people is about half what it was the last time, but I swear all eyes turn to us as we walk onto the courtyard where refreshments are being served, and men and women are gathered in small groups talking and drinking.
Santiago must feel my hesitation and rubs a circle on my lower back. The dress is cut low and feeling his warm hand on me is reassuring. I lean a little closer to him.
“Santiago, it’s been a long time,” an old man I don’t know says and pats Santiago’s back.
“Jonathan!” Santiago smiles—an actual smile—but he checks himself quickly. “It’s been long because you ran off to Europe for a year chasing after a pretty thing far too young for you.” They shake hands.
“Entirely too young but well worth the effort.” He winks. “And Europe was nice.”
“It’s good to see you. I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight, actually.”
“I’m not here for the dinner but when I learned your new bride would be accompanying you, I thought I’d love to meet her.” He turns a broad smile to me. “This must be the beautiful Ivy. My dear, it is a pleasure to meet the woman who has managed to move this man’s heart.”
The words take me by surprise, and I know they do Santiago too as he clears his throat, hand stiffening at my back.
“I am Jonathan Price, your husband’s godfather, believe it or not. Known him since he was oh…so big.” He leans down so his hand is at knee level, then extends that same hand to me, palm up.
I slip my hand into it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Price.”
“Jonathan, please,” he says, cupping my hand between both of his.
“Jonathan,” I repeat, smiling, liking the old man. “You’re Santiago’s godfather?”
He nods. “His father and I went way back. Shame
