Kill Our Way to Heaven | Book II

10 // a bump in the road

𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘺𝘢

Days have been going by like sand falling through one's hand for Anaya. She's caught herself in a routine—a very bland one at that—where she fills her day up with activities that keep her mind off the harsh reality she's trapped in.

She starts her mornings off with a jog, usually, Max accompanies her. And if she's up to it, Emilio takes her to his gym so she can practice her boxing. On the days she has therapy, she shaves off some time at the women's shelter; otherwise, you can be guaranteed that the raven-haired woman will be in the Upper West Side, helping Aury and the other hardworking caseworkers trying to find at-risk women a shelter from their harsh realities, all the while ignoring her harsh reality. This is enough to keep Anaya trapped in a bubble during the daylight, but when she returns to the presidential suite in the Romano Resort during the hours of the night, the bubble pops and she finds herself standing alone in front of the floor to ceiling window, looking down at the bustle of the city.

But the past month, Anaya has added a new component to her routine--a quick trip down to Atlantic City to stay with Sandro. It started off daily but weaned off to the weekends as pressure to handle Danni Moretti and The Triad weighed down on the couple—mainly Sandro. He's been closed off more than usual, and once something sets him off, he'll take his anger out on the nearest person—this case, Anaya. She knows that he is under immense stress--not to mention, having to learn the basics of life again in his late twenties can't be easy on the mind, so she tells herself that this is okay, that he's in a bad place and the least she can do is help him through it.

But as she stands at the gate, looking down at her boarding pass, she can't help but feel a lightweight being lifted off her shoulders. This is the first time she's going back to Miami ever since she left, and she can't shake off the wave of bittersweet anticipation. She hasn't told Sandro that she's going to Miami, but she knows better than to not tell anyone, Matteo, Max, and Emilio all know where she is right now—Max tagging along for the trip as he takes his bodyguard duties very seriously.

"So, were you ever gonna tell me you joined the mafia?" Anaya asks, her gaze on her phone as she scrolls through her Twitter. She can feel Max's gaze, the widening of his eyes, and a slight jaw drop, as he scrambles to come up with a reply.

"I...uh, what are you talking about?" Max replies, leaning closer as he whispers.

Anaya rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth curving up as she steps up to the air hostess to hand over her boarding pass for it to get scanned.

"Enjoy your flight to Miami!" The brunette lady chirps with a dazzling smile.

Anaya returns her smile, stepping into the jetway, waiting for Max to join her. "You know what I'm talking about, Max. Stop being coy." Anaya says once he approaches her.

They wait in line to board the plane, Max looking out at the large tarmac runway before replying. "I didn't really think about it."

Anaya shakes her head with a scoff. "You really thought I wouldn't wonder why you're always in the city, running around with Emilio when really you should be in Miami working at Darby's garage."

Max looks down at her, his pressed into a tight line. His earring glistens under the sunlight and his miffed expression remains on his face as he replies, "I didn't have anything in Miami, so of course, I was gonna follow you to New York. You're the only person I have, Anaya—I mean it."

"Your family! What about your little brother? Doesn't he deserve to have his older brother around?"

Max shakes his head, jaw set. "Madre made it clear that I'm a bad influence and that she doesn't want me around. Trust me, they're all better off without me."