Chapter 7
Tori found herself standing in the grand hall of the Chancellor's Palace, its opulence mocking the severity of the situation. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the marble floors. She was surrounded by her advisors, all eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. Her heart pounded as she raised her hand to deliver the order.
"Execute the deserter," she commanded, her voice echoing through the hall.
A guard stepped forward, dragging a hooded figure into the center of the room. The figure's sobs were muffled, but they resonated with a deep, primal fear. Tori's chest tightened as the hood was removed, revealing Sirrah's tear-streaked face. Her daughter's eyes, wide with terror, locked onto Tori's.
"Mom, please! Don't do this!" Sirrah pleaded, her voice breaking.
Tori's blood ran cold. She tried to scream, to call off the execution, but no sound escaped her lips. She was paralyzed, watching helplessly as the guards moved to carry out her order.
"No! Stop! That's my daughter!" she finally managed to cry, but it was too late. The scene played out in agonizing slow motion as Sirrah's desperate screams filled the hall.
Tori jolted awake, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The remnants of the nightmare clung to her, and she scrambled out of bed, rushing to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she was sick, her body wracked with convulsions. The fear and guilt from the dream felt all too real.
After what felt like an eternity, Tori wiped her mouth and leaned against the cool bathroom tiles, tears streaming down her face. She was conflicted and scared, the image of Sirrah's terrified face haunting her.
With trembling hands, Tori crawled back into bed, clutching her phone. She needed to hear Sirrah's voice, to know that she was safe. She dialed her daughter's number, holding her breath as it rang.
"Hello?" Sirrah's voice came through, a whisper.
"Sirrah, are you okay?" Tori asked, her voice shaking.
"Mom, I'm in class," Sirrah replied, her tone hushed.
Tori felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, I just... I needed to know you were alright."
"I'm fine, Mom. The security you got me is great. One of them is even kinda cute," Sirrah added, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Tori managed a weak smile. "That's good to hear. I'm glad you're safe."
Sirrah's voice softened. "I have to go, Mom. I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay. I love you, Sirrah," Tori said, her voice filled with emotion.
"I love you too, Mom," Sirrah replied before hanging up.
Tori stared at the phone for a long moment after the call ended. Sirrah's safety was her top priority, and she felt a surge of gratitude towards Andre for arranging the security. But they hadn't discussed it further. "Where did you find these guys Andre?"
Lying back in bed, Tori's mind raced. The nightmare had shaken her to her core, but hearing Sirrah's voice had grounded her. She knew she had to stay strong, for herself and for her daughter. As she closed her eyes, she wished for someone to hold her, to tell her everything would be alright.
But that was always what she wanted when she was in despair.
The airport terminal was a whirlwind of activity, the noise of announcements and the hum of travelers filling the air. For Tori, the world had slowed to a painful crawl. She walked hand in hand with her ten-year-old daughter, Sirrah, towards the gates. Each step felt like it was ripping a piece of her heart out.
As they reached the gate, Andre stood waiting, his expression a mix of sympathy and determination. Sirrah clung to Tori, her small arms wrapped tightly around her mother's neck, tears streaming down her face.
"Do you really have to go, Mom?" Sirrah's voice was a heart-wrenching whisper against Tori's shoulder.
Tori blinked back her own tears, trying to keep her voice steady. "I have to, sweetheart. But I promise you, we'll spend the whole summer in Paris. Just you and me, okay? First thing in the summer."
Sirrah nodded, her grip tightening as if she could hold onto her mother forever. "Promise?"
"I promise," Tori whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Sirrah's head. "I love you so much, Sirrah. Be good for your dad."
With a final, lingering hug, Tori gently pried Sirrah's arms from around her neck. Andre stepped forward, taking Sirrah's hand with a reassuring smile. He knelt down to her level, speaking softly. "Come on, Sirrah. We have a plane to catch."
Sirrah looked back at Tori, her eyes wide and tear-filled. "I'll miss you, Mom."
"I'll miss you too, baby," Tori said, her voice breaking. "But we'll be together again soon."
Andre gave Tori a supportive nod as he guided Sirrah towards the boarding gate. Tori watched as her daughter took slow, reluctant steps, turning back every few feet to look at her. When they finally disappeared into the jetway, Tori felt like she had been punched in the gut.
She turned and walked quickly towards the exit, her tears now flowing freely. Each step away from the gate felt like a betrayal, the distance between her and Sirrah growing with every stride. The pain was almost unbearable, but she forced herself to keep walking, knowing that this was the only way to keep Sirrah safe.
In Europe, Tori tried to lose herself in the liberal, accepting culture. She moved through cities like Amsterdam, Berlin, and Barcelona, her days filled with art galleries, music festivals, and late-night discussions in smoky cafes. Having long tired of hiding in her closet, She found solace in the arms of various women, each affair a fleeting attempt to fill the void left by her separation from Sirrah.
But the thrill of these clandestine relationships was always overshadowed by a deep, aching loneliness. Every new lover, every adventure, was just a distraction from the pain of missing her daughter. She carried the image of Sirrah's tearful face with her wherever she went, a constant reminder of what she had sacrificed.
Despite her efforts to build a new life, Tori couldn't shake the ties to her past. She began to reconnect with Trina through long-distance calls and encrypted messages. Trina, who had stayed behind in Yerba, became her lifeline to home. They talked about the political situation, their father's increasing paranoia, and Trina's efforts to push for change from within.
"Tori, you should reach out to him," Trina urged during one of their calls. "He needs to see that you're not a threat."
"I don't know if I can," Tori replied, her voice heavy with doubt. "If I go back, I might never be able to leave again."
Trina's silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. They both knew the risks, but the pull of family was strong.
Against her better judgment, Tori began to reach out to her father, testing the waters with cautious messages and carefully worded letters. Each interaction was fraught with tension, a delicate dance of proving her loyalty without losing her autonomy.
She never returned to Yerba, the fear of being trapped by her father's control too great. Instead, she poured her heart into her letters, hoping to bridge the gap between them from afar. She described her life in Europe, her work, and, cautiously, her longing to see him again. His responses were measured, sometimes warm, but always tinged with the underlying power dynamics that had driven her away in the first place.
As she looked back, Tori realized that every moment of her life in Europe, every relationship, and every conversation with Trina and her father had been haunted by the memory of that goodbye at the airport. The image of Sirrah's tearful face, the feel of her small arms around her neck, and the promise of Paris lingered in her mind like a ghost.
She could never get back the years she spent lonely sitting in her European apartment, she often found herself staring at photos of Sirrah, her heart aching with a mixture of pride and longing. She knew she had done what she had to for Sirrah's safety, but the cost had been a piece of her soul.
Tori was left with the bittersweet memory of Paris summers and the enduring hope that someday, they could build a life where goodbyes were no longer necessary.
Tori's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A steward entered the room, carrying a tray laden with a sumptuous breakfast. She watched him closely as he placed the tray on the table.
"Good morning, Chancellor Vega," the steward said with a respectful bow.
"Morning," Tori replied curtly, her mind still heavy with memories and decisions.
The steward took a seat and began to eat the food, meticulously testing each item for poison. Tori's eyes followed every movement, the routine both a necessity and a grim reminder of the constant danger she faced.
She picked up her phone and typed a quick message to Andre: **Call me when you wake up. It's urgent.**
As the steward finished the last bite of food and nodded to confirm its safety, Tori dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She began to eat, her appetite barely there, when her phone buzzed. Andre's name flashed on the screen. She took a deep breath and answered.
"Morning, Andre," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Hey, Tori. What's going on?" Andre's voice was warm but tinged with concern.
"I just talked to Sirrah. She mentioned the new security detail. Sirrah is already crushing on one of them," Tori said a soft smile on her face. "So what's the price tag? I'll wire you the money right away."
"Actually… it's a diplomatic detail with the Secret Service." Andre said. "My Taxes pay for that."
"The what?" She said trying to keep her tone neutral.
"I had to, Tori. I wasn't taking any chances with our daughter's safety," Andre replied firmly.
"But I specifically said I didn't want to involve Jade!" Tori snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "How could you bring the President into this? I don't want to owe her anything."
"Respectfully, Tori, Sirrah is my daughter too. I'm not going to sit back and do nothing while there are threats against her," Andre shot back, his voice rising slightly.
Tori took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I understand that, Andre, but we need to be on the same page about these decisions."
"We do. But sometimes you need to trust that I'm making the right call for our daughter's safety. This isn't just about you," Andre replied, his voice softening but still firm.
Tori sighed, the tension between them palpable. "I get it. I do. It's just... a lot right now."
"I know it is," Andre said gently. "But we need to stick together for Sirrah's sake."
Tori paused, then took a deep breath. "I had one of my advisers executed in front of everyone yesterday."
"What?" Andre said not having expected that. "Why?"
"I'm a Dictator Andre… what they want is a puppet, so I cut my strings."
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. "Tori, what were you thinking?" Andre finally said, his voice a mix of shock and disappointment. "Couldn't you have imprisoned him instead? There's no telling how much damage this has done to you. To your soul."
"I had to show them I was in charge. I couldn't let them see any weakness," Tori said, her voice trembling.
"Was it worth it, Tori?" Andre's voice softened. "Was it worth the risk of having Sirrah's view of you change?"
Before Tori could answer, there was a knock on the door. A guard entered, his expression grim. "Chancellor Vega, we've captured General Trina Vega."
Tori's heart sank. "Lock her in solitary," she ordered, her voice breaking slightly.
The guard nodded and left the room. Tori clutched her stomach, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her. "Andre, I have to go."
"Tori, wait—" But she hung up before he could say more.
She ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before she was violently sick. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions—fear, guilt, anger. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to steady herself.
Crawling back to her bed, Tori felt more alone than ever. She longed for someone to comfort her, to tell her everything would be okay. But there was no one. And the one person she wanted, she had pushed away and locked her name away in the dark corners of her being. The weight of her actions and the consequences bore down on her, and she curled up, her body wracked with silent sobs, wishing desperately for the strength to go on.
Later that day, Tori made her way to the cell where her sister, Trina, was being held. The cold, dimly lit corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, each step echoing her inner turmoil. When she reached the door, she motioned for the guards to leave.
"Leave us. I need to speak to her alone," Tori ordered, her voice steely.
The guards exchanged glances but complied, leaving the two sisters alone. As the heavy metal door closed behind them, Tori rushed to Trina, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"Trina, what were you thinking? They told me you were caught trying to get to me," Tori said, her voice trembling with concern.
Trina's eyes were filled with worry and determination. "I heard you had someone in your cabinet killed. I needed to know who it was. I had to find out for myself."
Tori took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It was Eduardo. I had to show them I was in charge. I had no choice."
Trina's eyes widened with shock. "Eduardo? Tori, why?"
"I couldn't let them see any weakness," Tori said, her voice breaking. "But now I need to know who your spy is. Who's been feeding you information?"
Trina shook her head, her expression conflicted. "It's not a spy, Tori... It's my ex. The father of my children."
Tori's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? Who are you talking about?"
Trina took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "Carlos Vicente. He's the father of my children, Geo and Georgia."
Tori's eyes widened with shock. "You have children? Trina, why didn't you tell me?"
"I couldn't, Tori. It wasn't safe," Trina said, her voice cracking. "When I was one of the Joint Chiefs, I had an affair with Carlos Vicente. I got pregnant. It was a mess."
Tori recalled the hot blond guy who was their military commander, always eager to find Trina. "Carlos Vicente... He was always so eager to find you." He even tried to tell her she couldn't make an environmental reform plan. He could have easily been the one she'd executed.
Trina nodded. "He was an opportunistic ass, but he was also an opponent of our father. He knows about the children, but he's never met them. His loyalty to the old regime kept him from doing anything."
Tori felt anger and betrayal wash over her. "Why would you risk your freedom for someone like him?"
Trina looked down, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and defiance. "Because I knew you would never keep me locked up."
Tori knew there was something behind her hesitation, but her sister was right. "How do I get you out without raising suspicion?"
Trina's eyes filled with desperation. "Don't wait too long, Tori. My kids are only eight. They need me. They're alone."
Tori held her sister tighter, feeling the weight of the situation. "I'll find a way, Trina. I promise. But we have to be careful."