Resurrection of the Heart: A Sovereign Sons Novel Read online

  Resurrection of the Heart

  A Sovereign Sons Novel

  A. Zavarelli

  Natasha Knight

  Copyright © 2021 by A. Zavarelli & Natasha Knight

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by CoverLuv

  Editing by Editing4Indies

  Contents

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  What To Read Next

  Also by A. Zavarelli

  Also by Natasha Knight

  Thank you!

  About A. Zavarelli

  About Natasha Knight

  About This Book

  Santiago finally has what he wants. His baby is growing inside me.

  I’ve rewritten her destiny, binding her to me for good.

  Things are changing for us. I see beyond the monster he shows the world. See the scars he hides beneath the ink.

  Love is a weakness men like me can’t afford. I’ve decided to keep her, but I’ll never forfeit my revenge.

  His final betrayal proves his vengeance means more to him than our love.

  I will have my pound of flesh, no matter the cost.

  I made a mistake trusting him. I forgot how much he likes my tears.

  When I am through, I’ll have what I thought I always needed.

  I’ll run from him. I’ll have to.

  I’ll bring her back when she runs. I’ll always bring her back. She belongs with me.

  But it’s too late when I realize he’s not the only monster in my world. And that mistake will cost us both dearly.

  Resurrection of the Heart is the third and final book of The Society Trilogy. You can find book 1, Requiem of the Soul here and book 2, Reparation of Sin here.

  1

  Santiago

  The small gray house in Oakdale blends in amongst all the others. It is not the first time I have visited, but it will be the first time I have stood on the doorstep.

  I know every detail of her schedule. When she leaves each day. Where she goes. What groceries she buys, how often she fuels her car. There isn't a single thing I don't know. And as I count the time passing on my watch, I know in fifteen seconds, she will open the door, rushing out to her car to take her son to school.

  I stand and wait. Moments later, there is a commotion on the other side of the door. Something clatters to the floor, and she curses. She yells for her son, telling him they have to go. The knob turns, and when the door opens, she spills out in a rush, nearly colliding with me.

  A small gasp flies from her lips, and horror washes over her face as she scrambles back inside, trying to shut the door to seal the monster out. My palm slams against it, and a dark smile bleeds across my face.

  "Hello, Hazel. It’s been a while."

  "No!" She shoves against the door with all her might, trying to stop me from entering.

  Panic seeps into every muscle in her body as she glances over her shoulder at her son and tells him to run.

  "There's no need for such dramatics." I shove against the door, the force knocking her off balance. When she stumbles back, I enter the house and shut the door behind me.

  Hazel is breathing hard, eyes wide, looking very much like her sister but not as beautiful. Nobody is as beautiful as my wife.

  "Please." Her hands shake as she reaches for her son, who can't be older than five, securing him in her arms. "You don't have to do this."

  "What exactly is it you think I'm here to do?" I cock my head to the side, studying her.

  She glances briefly at her son, tightening her grip on him. He looks just as terrified, and I find that notion surprisingly distressing. I haven’t ever given the feelings of children much thought, but considering my impending fatherhood, I think perhaps I should make an effort.

  "Your name is Michael, right?" I kneel to meet his eyes, hoping I might be less frightening for him at his level, but he only curls his little fists tighter into his mother's shirt. "I'm Santiago."

  He looks up at his mother, and she forces a smile that looks more like a grimace. "It's alright, sweetheart. Why don't you just go upstairs and play with your toys for a little bit? Mr. Santiago and I are going to have a talk."

  "Okay," he whispers, and slowly, she releases him from her grip. He tiptoes up the stairs, pausing a few times to glance back at me.

  He can sense the monster in his presence. But all children are like that, aren't they? My own will inevitably be the same. They will cling to their mother, too horrified to look at me.

  I swallow, but it does not dislodge the painful knot in my throat. My wife is missing. She has taken my child with her. And the question I don’t want to acknowledge lingers at the back of my mind. If it would be better to let her go—let them both go—so that I never have to witness that same revulsion from my own son's eyes.

  Yet I can argue that this is exactly what I wanted. My wife pregnant with my children. A family. Heirs to the De La Rosa name. But it isn’t just about heirs anymore. I’d be lying to myself if I said it were. I want her back. I need her back.

  "What do you want?" Hazel hisses, putting some distance between us as she takes a few steps back and straightens her clothing.

  When I don't answer right away, she starts to pace, brushing loose strands of hair back over her ears. "I expect the cavalry is coming. That's why you're here, isn't it? You plan to haul me away for punishment? What will it be? How will I pay for my sins for leaving IVI? I can’t leave my son alone in this world—"

  “Do you really believe The Tribunal would end your life over such a minor slight?” I stare at her, incredulous. “You are panicking. Stop. Think. Breathe. What you’re saying doesn’t even make sense.”

  She shakes her head in denial, spewing more fragmented thoughts from her mouth.

  "I expected this day would come... I knew it would. We should have left the state. But then it doesn't matter, I suppose. IVI is everywhere, aren't they?" She pauses to take a deep breath and continues, "Just leave my son out of it. That's all I ask. If you plan to take me, let me call someone to come look after him. He doesn't have anything to do with my decisions. I won't let him pay the consequences..."

  "Hazel," I growl.

&nbsp ; Her eyes snap up to mine.

  "I'm not here to take your son away from you. And I have no intention of taking you from your son. If and when you decided to come back to the Society, there would be punishment, but it wouldn’t be nearly as severe as you are imagining. As it stands, I have no reason to turn you in as long as you help me."

  "Help you?" She blinks. "How can I possibly help you?"

  "Tell me where your brother would take Ivy to hide her."

  Her face pales, and she shifts, averting her gaze. "Why would you want to know where Ivy is?"

  "Because she's my wife."

  "No." The protest falls from her lips with blatant disgust. "She wouldn't. She wouldn't—"

  "She wouldn't marry the likes of me?" I sneer. "I assure you, she did. And now I need to find her. Time is of the essence, so tell me what I want to know."

  She clenches her jaw, shaking her head. "Even if what you're telling me is true, I can't betray my sister. If she's gone into hiding, it must be for a good reason."

  "Fine." I pivot toward the staircase. "Then I'll take your son and be on my way. And, in fact, I’d dare say you are correct. You should expect an army of Sovereign Sons to descend on your house before nightfall. You could run, I suppose, if you are willing to leave your son behind."

  "You bastard!" She lunges at me, gripping my arm and trying to drag me back. "You aren't taking my son anywhere."

  "Then tell me what I want to know.” I shake her off and glare down at her.

  Her eyes move toward the staircase and then to the front door. I watch her face as slow acceptance sinks over her. There's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. She's trapped, and she knows it. But she's wasting my time, and it's time I can't afford to lose, so I throw another motivation at her.

  "Not that you seem to care, given that you abandoned all of them, but perhaps it would interest you to know I have your youngest sister, Eva, at my house."

  Her eyes narrow as she curls her hands into fists. "Is that a threat?"

  "Take it as you will." I arch an eyebrow at her. "But understand this. If you don't help me find my wife, I will make life miserable for all of you. I have been kind enough not to divulge your location even though I've been aware of it for quite some time. However, that grace is quickly dissolving in the face of your resistance. So it seems you have a choice. Help me find my wife and bring her back home to me safely, or let your entire family pay the consequences of your actions."

  Tears cling to the edges of her eyelids, and she turns away to wipe them, stewing over her current predicament with a stubbornness that must certainly be a Moreno trait. I recognize it well enough from Ivy.

  "Fine," she whispers reluctantly. "I will help you, but I need to know that Ivy won’t come to harm.”

  "She is safer with me than anywhere else.”

  "That must be why she ran from you in the first place," Hazel hisses.

  "We’re running out of time." I nod to the staircase again. "And I'm running out of patience."

  Her eyes dart to the keys she dropped on the floor, and she moves woodenly to pick them up. "One more thing." She tilts her chin up defiantly. "How can I trust that you won't give up our location or hand me over if I go with you?"

  I consider my words carefully. I am accustomed to taking what I want without regard for the feelings of others. I am a De La Rosa, after all. But some sliver of humanity in me wants her to trust me because she’s my wife's sister, and I know Ivy loves her. It feels strange to acknowledge this truth, particularly because I still don't want to believe it myself, but the longer I am without my wife, the more obvious it becomes.

  "You can trust that I won't betray you," I answer stiffly. "Because my wife would never forgive me if I did, and despite what you might think, I… I care about her. I want her home with me where she belongs. That's all I want. And I have no reason to turn you over unless you refuse to help me get her back."

  Hazel's face softens just a fraction as she studies me, searching for lies. When she is satisfied I am telling the truth, she offers a small nod.

  "Okay. Let me get my son. We'll need to drop him off at school first."

  * * *

  "What is this place?" I ask.

  Hazel shifts the car into park and turns off the ignition, staring up at the yellow house that looks just like any other on the street.

  I was beginning to think she was driving without any set purpose in mind, intent on fucking with me, before she finally took the exit for Lafayette. From there, she drove the route to this house as if from memory, and watching her now, there is a wistfulness in her features as she studies it. This place is obviously familiar to her.

  "This is the house my father bought for his first wife before he had to leave her," she answers solemnly. "I came here before I left The Society. It's in Abel's mother's name, so IVI was never aware of it. Not until now, anyway.”

  "Do you have a key?" I ask her as we exit the car and step onto the driveway.

  "No, but I know the code to the front door."

  I nod and follow her toward the door, but something catches my attention on the driveway. Hazel pauses at the same time I do, peering down at the red fragments of plastic. "What is that?"

  I bend down, picking up a piece to examine it as a cold chill settles in my spine. "It looks like a taillight."

  "Look at that." Hazel croaks, pointing a shaky finger at a crushed black plastic case.

  We both move closer to examine it, and Hazel recognizes it first.

  "It's lipstick."

  My eyes move over the red smear on the concrete as a sick feeling twists in my gut. For as long as I live, I will never forget that shade of red. It has to be the same. The question is why is it here, smashed in the driveway?

  "Do you think something happened here?" Hazel whispers.

  "Open the door."

  It's the only thing I can say. I can't accept the thoughts swirling the drain of my mind. I can't give those ideas space. Not until we go inside and I see for myself that she isn't here.

  Hazel punches in the code, and I grab her by the shoulder to halt her before she turns the knob.

  "Let me go first.”

  She swallows and nods, stepping behind me as I enter the space. For a moment, I stand there, taking it all in. The silence. The musty odor. The messy contents of a house that hasn't really been lived in for some time.

  There aren't any lights on. It's morning, and Ivy would be up by now. But I can't give up that last lingering hope as I stalk through the living area and down the hallway, checking every room. They are all empty. It doesn't stop me from checking under the beds, inside the closets, showers, and any other space she could hide. But every search turns up nothing. Not a single trace of her. Yet I can feel it in my gut that she was here.

  "Something bad has happened, hasn't it?" Hazel echoes my own thoughts, her voice trembling. "Something has happened to my sister."

  2

  Ivy

  They’ve removed the bag from over my head, but my wrists are still zip-tied behind my back, and the ties are digging painfully into my flesh. I wonder if it’s to keep me off balance to prevent me from running, but they don’t have to worry about that. My door isn’t locked, but I’m not going out there. I can still hear them, and if I look out of the window of the run-down single-story house they’ve brought me to, I can see their cars on the driveway. They took mine somewhere a few hours ago, I guess to get rid of it. I didn’t even realize Abel had held on to it.

  Abel. Did he intend for this to happen like it did? Or did things just go wrong?

  My head hurts where the one punched me, and a bruise is forming at my temple. I guess I should be grateful it’s not my eye. My stomach growls. I’m hungry even though I can’t imagine eating right now.

  One of the men raises his voice and curses at whoever he’s talking to in the other room. It’s startling. It all seems disorganized as though they didn’t really have a plan, and I’m not sure if that isn’t more dangerous.

& nbsp; I hear a car and get up to go to the window. The room I’m in is around the side, so if I stand at the very edge of the window, I can see a part of the driveway. A light goes on. It’s not very bright, and it must be triggered by motion. I watch a car pull up. It’s an old, unremarkable black car with a muddied license plate at the front. My guess is that’s on purpose.

  But when the door opens and I see Abel step out, my breath shudders, and I feel a physical sense of relief. He looks around as he slips the keys into his pocket before the light switches off as he moves to the front of the house.

  “About fucking time,” one of the men says loud enough for me to hear.

  I go to the door to listen to my brother’s quieter response. I can’t make out his words, but the men speak urgently, voices lowered now.

  A few minutes later there is a raised voice again. This one is Abel’s. “Well, I guess it’s going to take a little fucking longer. I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to do as I say. Don’t fucking forget it.”