The Wife Breaker by Isabella Starling

Chapter 6

HEATH

8 years ago

I flatten the piece of paper beneath my palm, glancing at the mountain of letters I’ve already torn up and tossed aside.

This is one of my last letters to Rain before she’s brought out here to marry me, and I want to make it count.

She must be so nervous, wondering what her life will be like once we’re married. But she doesn’t need to worry, because I fully intend on treating her like the queen she is.

A faint smile plays on my lips as I scribble another page for her. These letters have become a routine I’ve fallen in love with. Rain, as far away as she is, has stolen a chunk of my heart. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think of her and daydream about what our life will be like once we can finally be together.

But I also know I’m using our engagement to distract myself from the underlying task ahead of me.

Once Rain and I marry, I will become the head of the Scorpion cartel.

The cartel my grandfather created and the one my father inherited will finally be mine to control.

And for the past few years, I’ve been struggling with how I feel about that. After all, I’ve had enough time to learn just how gruesome and cruel the world of the cartels is. It’s the reason my parents are dead. It’s the reason I have to marry Rain without ever having a choice.

Accepting that I’m about to become a monster has shaped my life. I struggle with my decision, knowing if I give up control to my uncle Xavier, I’ll be seen as weak by everybody around me. And worse yet, Rain could be taken away from me then.

But even if I got away, I never could outrun the cartel. Their claws are deep, ensuring I stay tethered to them. I will never live a normal life again.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door just as I crumple another piece of paper in frustration. I turn my head to the side and my jaw sets as I see my uncle standing in the hallway.

“We have an urgent matter to attend to,” he tells me, checking his wristwatch. “Hurry.”

I nod with a somber expression, pushing the letter aside so I can finish it later. I grab my jacket and follow Xavier to the car waiting for us in the Casa's driveway. As the car pulls away, I stare at the fading image of my ancestral home with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Glancing away, I focus my attention on my uncle.

Xavier is my father’s adoptive brother. He is nothing like my father, though - at least as far as I can remember. Xavier is cold, calculating, and ruthless. My father was too soft for this business, and I think Xavier’s worst fear is that I will be, too.

Despite not being related to me, Xavier shares my complexion and dark hair. His eyes are blue, unlike mine. He’s handsome - I know all the women in the Casa are desperate to catch his attention. But he’s also twisted - I’ve seen the bruises he left on some girls leaving his bedroom firsthand.

I always had a strange feeling about Xavier. Even though he saved my life in the car accident that killed my parents, he never seemed to take a liking to me.

“What are you staring at?” he hisses at me now without so much as glancing at me.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Don’t apologize for every little fucking thing. It makes you look weak.”

“Do you have to give me shit every time I open my mouth?” I growl at him.

“Yes.” His cool eyes zero in on mine. “Because if I don’t, you won’t be ready for the job we both know you have to do.”

I look away, knowing he’s right. Now I feel guilty as fuck. Maybe I’m too doubtful of Xavier. Maybe he is just trying to prepare me for what life will be like once I take over the cartel from him.

Sometimes I wonder whether my uncle will miss running it. He’s a ruthless business owner and a vicious killer. I’ve seen him shoot people in front of their children. He knows no mercy. I had thought this job suited him, but he never expressed how he feels about it to me.

The limo pulls to a stop in the docks.

Xavier and I get out and I fall into step behind him, muttering, “So, what is this about anyway?”

“Your initiation,” he tells me in a cool voice.

“What the hell do you mean?”

Before he can answer me, six men appear in the alleyway we’ve walked into. They grab me and I kick at them as they hold me immobilized in front of my uncle.

“What the fuck are you doing, Xavier?”

“Teaching you the lesson of a lifetime.”

He crosses his arms and nods at the men.

“Do it.”

They beat me systematically. No matter how much I thrash or try to get away, they hold on and I groan as blood spurts from my mouth and nose.

“This is what my father did to me,” Xavier continues impassively. “And what he should have done to my brother. But your father was soft, Heath. Soft, just like you’re going to be unless I teach you how to handle this life.”

“You’re fucking insane!” I scream as fists land all over my body, forcing me to my knees.

“No, I’m just being a good uncle,” he smirks.

The beating doesn’t stop there. By the time the thugs are done, I am barely conscious, lying on the ground groaning as blood pools beneath me. My head is spinning from the betrayal I’ve just experienced, and my hand is eager to reach for a weapon and fucking kill my uncle. But I’m powerless as he kneels next to me and leans down to speak to me.

“Don’t worry, Heath. I’ll take good care of everything while you’re gone. Especially Rain.”

I spit at him, but he steps time, delivering one last kick to my bruised and broken ribs. Groaning on the ground, I try to force myself to get up, but fail every time.

I can only watch helplessly as Xavier gets back inside the limo and the driver speeds away. Then, my consciousness drips out of me just like the blood staining my once crisp white shirt.

Drifting in and out of the pain taking over my body, I drag myself away from the alley that’s now stained with my blood. But then I hear a van pulling up in the docks, and a moment later several men appear, speaking in Spanish. They spot me on the ground, laughing as they kick at my broken body. I can only beg for help, even though I know they’re not likely to give it to me.

The docks are one of the most dangerous areas here. And as the men shout at each other and one of them puts a cigarette out on my skin, I realize just how fucked I am.

They drag me to my feet and force me into the back of their van. Nobody asks me anything, and it’s not like I can answer anyway, on the verge of passing out from the pain. One man reaches out to me with a syringe full of clear liquid, smirking at me. Grateful and thinking they’re finally getting me some medical help, I let him inject me with the syringe without fighting.

But the moment I feel the burn of the drug in my system, I realize what a grave mistake I’ve made.

The poison burns like fire and gives me unnatural strength. I pick myself up easily, as if I don’t have broken ribs and cuts and bruises everywhere. The men roar with laughter, but their tune quickly changes when I grab one of them by the throat and lift him up, throwing him against the wall of the van.

The car swerves, and the men shout at each other in Spanish. But I’m too fast on the shit they pumped into me, and I’m really fucking angry.

I kill them one by one. My hands wrap around their flimsy necks and I snap at them, biding my time to escape from this horror show. And yet despite what these strangers just did to me, what burns more is still my uncle’s betrayal.

The car comes to a stop twenty minutes later, and I’m ready for the moment the doors open, jumping on the driver. But I don’t get far, because he pulls out a gun and points it at my forehead.

I raise my hands, my heart racing as two other men drag me off him and they inspect the damage I did inside the van. One of them laughs as if all those bodies I piled up in the van mean nothing. What the fuck kind of place have I just been brought to?

They force me into the building we’ve arrived in front of, shove me into a prison cell where several other men are already waiting. Some of them snarl at me, others ignore me, too caught up in the pain of their own lives. I’m quickly realizing this is a pain we’re going to share in the coming months.

“What the fuck is this place?” I mutter half to myself, catching the attention of a man splayed on the ground.

“Your own personal hell,” he mutters, picking himself up on his elbows. “I’m L.”

His body is covered in bleeding cuts and wounds, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. The man’s pupils are dilated into black orbs, making me wonder if he’s high on something.

“Heath,” I introduce myself.

“Hang on to that name,” the guy mutters. “And all your memories. You might not have them for much longer.”

Frowning, I choose not to question him. He looks like he’s been here a while, and I’m in desperate need of an ally.

Scooting closer to him, I lean down to speak in hushed tones, saying, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“None of us should be here,” the man grits out. “Who are you?”

“I’m the heir of the Scorpion cartel,” I mutter in hushed tones. “My uncle left me for dead.”

“Let me guess, at the docks?”

I nod.

“They get many people from there,” L grunts. “And they don’t give a shit if you’re the Prince of England. Here, we’re all treated the same.”

I don’t need to ask to know that means we’ll all be treated like shit.

“What is this place?” I repeat. “What happens here?”

“Fights.” His dilated eyes meet mine, as if testing me to see my reaction to his answer. “They make us fight other men and sometimes each other. To the death.”

“They can’t do that to me.”

“Why? Because you’re from some influential family?” The man laughs, but the sound of it is bitter. “You’re nothing down here, just like we all are. Just a number, and once you’re dead, you’re nothing more than a body.”

My mouth sets in a thin line just as the cell’s doors open again and a guard approaches me. I pick myself up, groaning from the injuries I’ve sustained. The effects of the drug they pumped me full of are wearing off now, and I’m realizing what I did to the men in that van.

They were my first kills. The first men that died by my hand. As I meet the guard’s stony gaze, I realize they won’t be my last.

“I need to go back home,” I hiss at him. “You can’t keep me here against my will. People will look for me.”

Instead of answering me, the guy shoves his fist into my stomach. I double over from the pain, seeing stars. I try to strike back, but my new friend in the cell holds me back, muttering in my ear to stop.

“They’ll only hurt you worse if you fight them,” he grunts. “Be obedient, at least for now.”

“You’re not going back home,” the guard tells me in heavily accented English. “You were left for dead. Who the fuck do you think is missing you?”

My lips shape the name I haven’t thought of since I’ve been brought here - Rain. As I think of her, the reality of what’s happening sinks in, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Xavier didn’t just rip my own life away from me, he took Rain. Fuck knows what’s going to happen to her now that he’s in control... I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed her.

“You can’t leave me here to rot,” I roar, wincing at the pain in my side as I force myself back up.

In the way of an answer, the guard tosses a few plastic baggies onto the floor in the cell. The rest of the men throw themselves at it like it’s a sort of lifeline, and the guard smirks before exiting, locking us all back in.

“What the fuck is that shit?” I hiss, pointing to the inmates scrambling to get hold of the white powder in the plastic.

Some of them lick it, others snort it. But they all seem obsessed with the content of those little plastic bags, as if they carry the solution to this predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into.

“It’s drugs,” L mutters. “They feed us that shit instead of food sometimes. You should try to fight for some, too.”

I remember the painful syringe going into my skin and the bloody van attack that followed, shuddering.

“Why?”

“It’ll make it easier to fight,” L says. “Easier to kill your friends in here. It’s the only way to survive.”

As I watch the other men use up the white powder, reality sinks in and a feeling of dread settles in my stomach.

I can’t sleep.

The two bunk beds in the room have been occupied, so I’m lying on the cold, hard floor, with nothing to cover me. My mind is racing and all I can think about is Rain.

Does she know what’s happened to me yet? Probably not. She’ll only realize something’s wrong when my next letter doesn’t arrive... unless Xavier kills her before then. I wouldn’t put it past him.

My hands form fists and I slam them into the floor. I want to protect Rain and her Nana, but there’s nothing I can do from inside this prison. My blood boils at the thought of my uncle and what he’s done. But I know I’ll get out of here.

My fingers search the bumpy tiled floor when they come across a small plastic bag. I pull it up and narrow my eyes at the remaining traces of white powder sticking to it.

So this is what they use to make us obedient. To make us murder machines.

With repulsion, I scoop out some of the powder. I don’t want it anywhere near me and yet there’s a kind of morbid curiosity making me want to taste it, see for myself what it can do.

I lick it off my fingers, my heart pounding in my chest. The powder kicks in quickly, filling me with the desire to kill something. My fists tighten so much my nails dig into my skin, leaving bloody crescent moons in my palms. This shit is stronger. And I fucking recognize it.

I remember an event that happened a few weeks ago.

I was meeting with a supplier by the docks with my uncle, and they were transporting this shit somewhere. I know, because my uncle forced me to sniff some off the edge of a knife, just like he did.

“Careful now, Heath,” he’d told me with an ice-cold smirk. “This shit might kill you if you’re not careful.”

Remembering the moment now makes me feel fucking sick. Was he already planning on doing this to me back then? Did he know at that moment he’d leave me for dead, allowing some messed up pricks to drag me into their sick, twisted game of playing God?

He must have.

Shutting my eyes as the drugs courses through my body, I remember my parents. Xavier’s brother, my father, who was kind, always laughing and never too busy for me.

Xavier always envied my father. After all, father was the rightful heir to the cartel. And with me in the world, Xavier didn’t stand a chance of inheriting the business.

But now he’s made sure I’m out of the picture, confirming he never gave a shit about me.

Why even save me from the wreckage of that car accident? He risked hurting himself in the process and he bears the scars to prove it. But it’s useless wondering about that now. It’s too late.

My mind conjures up the image of a pale girl, her face covered in freckles, her hair golden, and her eyes blue. She smiles at me in the fantasy, telling me everything’s going to be okay.

The drug makes my mind hazy and yet through it all; I remember her - my Rain.

Clinging on to that memory with absolute desperation, I realize I can never let go of it.

I need to remember Rain and make her my driving force, my reason for getting the hell out of here. I need to escape, need to get the hell out before these monsters sink their teeth into me and make me one of their own.

I will not succumb to their cheap tricks - not the drugs or the fighting. Whatever they throw at me, I’ll be ready, never allowing them to break me like my uncle probably predicted.

I’ll stay strong and save Rain. I have to.

After all, she’s all I have left.