Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 33

Isabella woke up, her body stiff from sleeping in a strange position in the fawn leather airplane seat. She looked out the window, a small gasp escaping past her lips when she took in lush tropical treetops, white and gray sand, and beautiful crystal clear blue water. She didn't know where she was but somehow despite that, she felt the word "home" escaping delicately and quietly past her lips. The place below the plane looked like peace. The peace that she and Rafael had been desperately searching for over the past several months.

"Are we here?" Isabella stood from her seat and peeked over the pilot's shoulder. He smiled back at her, his entire demeanor relaxed while her nerve endings felt like they were on fire.

"Indeed, pretty lady. Should be landing soon." The pilot hit a few buttons on his massive dashboard of commands and gadgets and Isabella slipped into the co-pilot's seat next to him.

"You really want to land this thing, huh?"

"Yes!" Isabella laughed and slipped the extra headset over her head, taking in the amazing view from the front of the cockpit. She felt her breath catch in her throat as the question that had been pounding between her ears slipped out of its own accord.

"Is he here?"

"Should be soon if he isn't already. He'll have a different name you know." Isabella nodded, not really caring, not concerning herself with the details. If she needed a new name, a new identity, she'd take it. Ever since being taken from her aunt's home in Mexico, she felt like a different person. She was no longer the same Isabella from Arizona and she'd never be that girl again.

"Heading on in!" The pilot winked at Isabella as he navigated the plane toward the runway, her stomach dropping slightly at the plane's descent. You could feel the movements of the plane far more viscerally than in a larger commercial plane. She gripped the edges of the cockpilot's seat, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement. The wheels hit the ground and Isabella let out a small yelp, scouring the window for any sign of Rafael. Would he be standing by the tarmac, waiting for her? Or would he be in some waiting car, ready to whisk her away?

"Damn, beautiful, you've got it bad," the pilot brought the plane to a stop and pulled off his headset, "Rafael is one lucky man." Isabella hopped up and waited for the pilot to open the hatch door so that she could feel her feet firmly on this new ground. The ground of her new life.

"So, now can you finally tell me where we are?" Isabella's voice was breathless as she started to descend the stairs, the warm, fresh air washing over her face.

"Bali, Indonesia. Welcome home."

---

Rafael pulled the trigger, dark red blood splattering the elegant leather chair of the pilot's seat. He hadn't listened to the traitorous pilot's pleas, his false apologies only in the face of imminent death. Rafael vowed that this would be the last bullet he ever fired, hoping like hell that this last kill would sever the ties to his past life forever. Wiping the gun down with a cloth, he settled it in a suicuide position within the pilot's lap. He grabbed the duffle bag he had packed back at his hacienda in Mexico and descended the steps of the plane.

The sunshine hit his face, the beautiful tropical trees surrounding the tarmac. He pulled out a burner phone from his bag that he turned on for the first time and texted Isabella's pilot, informing him of his arrival. Rafael walked toward the road, no longer having a fleet of private bullet-proof SUVs at his beck and call. He couldn't care less. He'd walk, crawl, swim his way to Isabella if he had to. He felt the lightest he'd ever felt in his entire life, a small sweat breaking out over his brow and between his strong shoulder blades as he walked his way into town where he could hail a local cab.