ELIJAH
When I arrived at the airport, it was already too late. The flight had boarded. I was five minutes late. Five.
I tried to get past security, but they wouldn't let me through. Everyone stared like I was crazy. Maybe I was. Maybe I was crazy enough to think I could make her stay.
I called her. No answer. I made a scene—yelling, begging—because I thought it would be worth it.
It wasn't.
So I left.
I drove back to the mansion feeling defeated, gutted. When I got home, I grabbed the box from Red's room out of my car and trudged toward my door.
The second I stepped inside, my sister burst from the kitchen and ran to me. "Oh my God, Eli, where were you? I called you so many times and you didn't answer. I was worried sick," she said, cupping my cheeks, her eyes scanning me for injuries.
I swatted her hand away, blood already boiling. "None of your business. Now get away from me," I snapped, brushing past her.
She grabbed me back with all her strength. "No! Elijah, no! I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what happened."
"I said it's none of your business! What part of that don't you understand?" I glared at her.
"Elijah—"
"I know your mother's dead, but you don't have to fill in for her. Or maybe you can, you know? Be an alcoholic who doesn't give a fuck about her children."
The sting hit before I registered it. The sound of my sister's slap echoed.
Silence fell. I could feel Vicky's gaze boring into my soul.
"Snap out of it!" Vicky said.
I went silent. My mind dazed, vision blurring. "I—I—" but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I staggered upstairs to my room. I couldn't even walk straight. I knocked over vases. I didn't care.
By some miracle, I made it to my room and collapsed on the side of my bed.
"Elijah, God, what happened to you?"
"She left," I muttered.
"What? Who?"
Before I could tell her, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I yanked it out and reality slammed back into me.
One of my men. I tossed the phone aside. I wasn't in the mood. But my sister snatched it up.
"Hello?" I heard her say. I forced myself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"It's Victoria. My brother can't come to the phone right now. What is it?"
"Ms. Mendez? As in Nadia Mendez? You were looking for her. Why?"
At the sound of her name, I shot up. I went to grab my phone, but Vicky had eyes in the back of her head. She caught me and started pacing the room.
After a few seconds, she froze. So did I.
"What?" she said. "A-are you sure?"
"Okay. Um, I'll let my brother know." Her tone had changed. She looked back at me after hanging up, eyes glossing with tears.
I walked toward her. "What is it?"
She didn't answer.
"What is it, Vicky?!" She shut her eyes, biting her lip. She grabbed both my hands and led me back to the bed. Now we were both sitting.
"It's about Nadia," she whispered.
"What about her, for God's sake, Victoria? I'm about to lose my patience. Just tell me!"
"The plane that was flying to New York... the one Nadia was on—" She gulped as a tear escaped. "It crashed."