Chapter 9
I couldn’t be bothered to waste a single word on him.
I hung up and switched off my phone.
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From a distance, I watched Ethan storming back to his group, face dark with anger. He grabbed Sofia’s hand with obvious frustration and headed straight for the left boarding gate without hesitation.
I sighed with relief and turned right, walking in the opposite direction toward my
freedom.
During my first days in the Vasquez territory, I made sure to act confident.
I deliberately kept myself busy with combat training and learning the southern operations, filling each day with activities to avoid any downtime that might lead
to overthinking.
I definitely didn’t follow Ethan’s demand to add him back on our secure line.
Still, Maddie occasionally sent me encrypted updates about Moretti activities. Apparently, Ethan and the Moretti soldiers had been enjoying themselves in
Switzerland for quite some time.
For some reason, he was posting on Instagram every single day–clearly for my benefit, knowing Maddie would show me.
This was completely unlike the old Ethan, who considered social media a security
risk.
Sometimes he shared videos of himself racing down ski slopes, sometimes lavish
meals and all–night parties, but most often group photos of everyone with Sofia, all smiles and apparent harmony between the families.
Even though I didn’t want to keep tabs on the Morettis.
Somehow Maddie kept sending me screenshots and updates.
Everyone in the Moretti compound was curious, asking between the lines why I
wasn’t with Ethan in Switzerland.
Maddie didn’t know how to explain, so she made excuses about me needing time
alone.
Except for Maddie, who called Ethan a manipulative bastard every chance she got,
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everyone else seemed hesitant to speak their minds around her.
She knew they’d probably figured out what was happening.
In every photo Ethan posted, he and Sofia were practically joined at the hip. But that spot beside him had been mine for so many years, even if I was never
truly his equal.
Each time I saw these pictures, I kept my face neutral, but my heart would ache despite my best efforts.
He was, after all, the first man I’d ever loved–someone I’d genuinely been devoted
to for so, so long.
In the middle of the night, I’d sometimes break down pathetically, occasionally feeling bitter resentment.
But each time I remembered his cruel words, I’d mentally slap myself.
Over and over, I’d remind myself:
“Emma, don’t be pathetic. Have some self–respect. You’re a Vasquez associate
now.”
Just hold on a little longer.
Once the withdrawal period passed, everything would get better.
We went a full month without any contact.
It was the longest silence since Don Moretti had first brought me home.
Distance and time proved to be excellent medicine, and I survived the worst of it. Just when I’d almost stopped thinking about Ethan altogether, he somehow discovered my location and called me from across the country on a secure Vasquez line that only insiders should have known.
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