Page 67 of Queen of Ruin

“And they found us because of Mindy?”

“Yes. She put out the call and everyone, us included, traced Diego’s phone.”

“This is a lot.” My grip tightens further on Diego’s hand until he winces. “I’m sorry. This is just all… you all have to understand how insane this all sounds.”

“We do,” Raven says gently. “We’ve never… never had to reeducate someone before, but we have pictures and videos and so much more to help you believe.”

“Before that, though,” Cassian remarks. “Valentina… everything that’s key to understanding this and what happened to you is locked in your mind. It sounds terrifying and overwhelming, but it all already exists within you. Before we overload you with pictures and things, there’s something I want to try.”

“What is it?”

“Meditate with me. Calming the mind and reconnecting with yourself might help unlock a thing or two that could show you that not only are we telling the truth, but also, everyone here is as important to you as Diego is.”

I glance at Diego. This has to be some sort of trick, but this is also too elaborate for a lie. Does the truth really exist locked in my mind?

“Okay,” I agree. “It’s worth a try, right?”

26

DIEGO

This is insane.

There’s no way this is real life.

Yet everyone in this room is accepting these statements as if they’re completely ordinary things to talk about. Mafia Kings and Queens, a secret branch of the Mafia, preventing every organized criminal from turning New York into a blood bath, and the government is on board because they know they can’t win.

It’s insane and yet, unfortunately, it makes sense. Some of the things I overheard when I was too high to care suddenly make sense when I factor in that the drugs I bought likely came from a food chain leading to one of these families. That means Tech is connected too, and Mindy to an extent. Everyone I’ve ever come across with a needle in their arm or a spoon in their pocket is embroiled in a world we know nothing about, because as long as we have the drugs, nothing else matters.

Nothing at all.

And this is Valentina’s world.

She nearly crushed my fingers three times during this whole meeting, but there’s something new in her eyes each time she glances at me for comfort. Some kind of understanding, as if none of this is new for her.

The pictures and videos they have are undeniable. The way they talk to her and look at her with the same love I know I hold in my own gaze… They deeply care about her, and that kind of love can’t be faked.

The woman I love still exists. She’s sitting right next to me while talking to Cassian about meditation. She’s right here with her hand in mine, her hair tucked behind one ear and her eyes bright and curious. This is the woman who woke up in my bed and begged me not to go to the cops, who trusted me to treat her and bathe her, feed her and follow me all over the city in a bid to protect her.

But the woman on the screen? The woman in the photos and in these people’s heads? That’s the woman who leaped into my car and turned her gun on me.

And I don’t know her.

Valentina is every bit as powerful and as dangerous as I thought she’d be, but it’s been amplified beyond my very understanding. If all of this is true, then the work they must do here is grander than anything I could ever come across in my daily life.

Valentina is grander than anyone I could ever meet, or will ever meet again.

Compared to me, an ex-drug addict turned dealer to scrape by, she’s the sun and I’m barely allowed a glance.

“Come with me,” Cassian says to Valentina, dragging me out of my spiraling thoughts. “I have a room just for this.”

“For regaining memory?” Valentina asks, slightly confused.

“No, silly. Meditating.”

“Oh, right.” She turns to me as she lets go of my hand, then she leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Good luck.”