My throat tightens.
She steps closer. “If you find him,” she says gently, “he won’t be the same. This world is brutal, Emma. It changes people. Many of them forever.”
Her tenderness catches me off guard. “He was already different,” I say quietly. “But the Jude I knew was still there. I could see it sometimes. When he laughed, or sang, or kissed me.” I swallow. “I know I’m changing too. I’m an art therapist. I deal withotherpeople’s pain for a living. I was always confident, always steady. But this…” I shake my head. “I feel helpless. I don’t know who I am anymore. I created a version of myself that I liked without Jude. But now that I’ve had him again…I can’t seem to reach her.”
Adela holds my gaze. “It’s okay if you change,” she says. “You’re facing things most people never have to. It’s not every day the person you love is taken by a Russian crime lord.”
I nod weakly. I can’t believe that sentence is factual.
“Rafe and I can help you break him out,” she continues. “But you’re the only one who can actuallysavehim.”
I know exactly what she means. I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t come back from. “I just want him back.”
Her eyes soften, just for a moment. “I know. And that’s what makes you dangerous.” She studies me. “You’ll have to decide what you’re willing to become. Use your strengths. I can already tell you have a very intelligent and empathic mind.”
The words hit hard. I look back out at the quiet beauty of the yard. “I think I already know what I might become,” I mumble.
Adela’s eyes narrow slightly. “Do you?”
“I’d do anything for him,” I say. “I can’t throw a punch or shoot a gun, but I have my mind. I see people differently. And I believe that’s a powerful strength.”
She nods once. “It is. That kind of love is the only thing that survives the hell you’re about to walk into.”
My grip tightens around my mug as she motions for me to follow her back inside. Micah and Heather are laughing over something again, her hand resting on his arm. The affection is refreshing to see.
Rafe stands by the counter, arms crossed, watching us. His eyes never leave his wife. “Alright,” he says. “Everyone’s had coffee. Sit.”
I slide onto a stool beside Heather.
Adela doesn’t sit. She makes another latte and turns to face us.
“We can fly to Moscow soon,” he says.
I straighten immediately. “How soon?”
“Soon,” he repeats. “We have things to tie up here first.”
Heather stiffens beside me.
Micah’s voice is low. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.” Rafe nods.
“Then what?” I ask.
“We work on eliminating the blackmail,” Rafe says.
“Nolan’s system,” Adela adds. “It’s…less complicated than Alexei’s, from what I can see.”
Micah scoffs. “Less complicated? He’s still Nolan.”
“It’s organized,” Rafe replies calmly. “That’s what makes it vulnerable. He’s not at all in the same league as Morozov.”
My stomach drops. “You’re saying you think you can take it down?”
Rafe nods once. “Remove the files, remove the control.”
“And if the blackmail is gone, then Jude won’t face life in prison,” I mutter.