Chapter 5 - The Confession
I washed the blood off my hands in the basement sink, changing into a spare black shirt Marcus kept in the security office. By the time I walked back up to the master bedroom, the sun was just beginning to peek over the New York skyline.
I tapped the keypad, and the heavy steel door clicked open.
Inside, the room was peaceful. The boys were deeply asleep, tangled together in the massive bed, their breathing slow and even. The crushing weight of fear that usually haunted their faces was completely gone.
Marisol was sitting in the armchair by the window, a cup of untouched coffee in her hands. She looked exhausted, her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders, but her eyes were sharp as they met mine.
She took one look at my fresh shirt and my wet hair, and she knew. She didn't ask questions. She didn't judge.
"It's done," I said quietly, walking over to stand near her. "Victor's network within the syndicate is being dismantled as we speak. Anyone loyal to him will be gone by noon."
"And the boys?" she asked softly.
"They are safe. Truly safe." I scrubbed a hand over my tired face. "I owe you everything, Marisol. You did what twenty professionals couldn't. You listened to them."
Marisol set her coffee cup down. "They didn't need a professional, Julian. They needed someone who wasn't afraid of the dark."
I looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. She wasn't just a quiet woman. She possessed a fierce, unyielding strength that I had never encountered in my world of hardened criminals.
"You said you grew up in Juarez," I murmured. "You said you knew what a hunted child looks like."
Marisol looked out the window at the rising sun. "When I was ten, the cartel came for my father," she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "They broke into our house in the middle of the night. I hid in the closet with my little brother. I held my hand over his mouth so he wouldn't scream."
My chest tightened. I stepped closer to her, captivated by the raw honesty in her voice.
"We survived because we stayed quiet," she continued, turning her eyes back to me. "But the silence broke us. When I came to this house, I saw three boys doing exactly what I did. Hiding. Surviving. But I knew if they didn't speak up, the fear would eat them alive."
"So you gave them a voice," I said, a deep sense of awe washing over me.
"I just sat in the dark with them until they realized the dark couldn't hurt them anymore," she replied simply.
May you like
I knelt down beside her chair, placing my large, rough hands over her smaller ones. "Marisol," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "You aren't just an employee anymore. Name your price. Whatever you want, it's yours."
She looked down at my hands holding hers, a soft, sad smile playing on her lips. "I don't want your money, Julian. I never did."
