Chapter 34 Cortez
Chapter thirty-four
Cortez
One Week Later
I used to think silence was my refuge. In it, I found peace. I was able to think, breathe, and battle my demons. But now it feels like a punishment.
The mansion feels cold without her. Every second that I sit still, every minute my door stays shut, every hour the guards don’t report a disturbance in the west wing worsens the ache in my chest.
Fuck. Her absence is loud, aching…unbearable. I run a hand down my face, my gut wrenching at the thought of what I’ve done.
I miss her. Her little shenanigans, her snarky little remarks, her defiant glare. All of her.
It hurts to think I once had her, but took her for granted. I can’t lose her again. I’m not ready to.
I rise from my seat behind the desk, grab my car key from the nightstand, and head out. Alej is the first person I see when I enter the hallway.
“Boss,” he bows slightly. “Our strategy is working, slowly but surely. One name keeps leading to another. With the right threats, more people will talk.”
I clench my teeth. Of course. We investigated the laundromat in Queens.
Found a clerk with a gambling debt who talked and gutted the network from there.
We dug into the list of names that followed, including the ones Julio had given, and found that most of the people who formed the syndicate were outcasts.
Exiled dons, people presumed dead…corrupt businessmen backed by international powers.
They were people that society, the mafia, or otherwise, had already deemed unworthy.
People we no longer acknowledge because of the major bad they did.
People who faked death to escape their nemesis.
Nero was only a recruit like every other lower member.
Bastard probably just wanted to use the opportunity for revenge.
We have a strategy, but execution is brutal. Finding the syndicate members is still difficult, and the ones we find, getting them to talk is even harder. Most of them are still killing themselves—brainwashed idiots dying for a hollow cause.
But now the field is leveled and much bigger.
That’s why we’re targeting weaker links—dirty cops, corrupt politicians, and accountants who move their money.
Smaller people linked with the syndicate by reason of association.
The ones that still value their lives, the cowards who’d breathe the truth at the slightest exchange for protection.
Finding them and getting them to talk sets off a domino effect. We find out the names of more key members of the syndicate along with evidence of their bad deeds, which in turn causes infighting…panic.
At this time, we’ve discovered a few pieces of evidence, including child trafficking dens in Brussels and suspicious transfers to offshore accounts that lead back to a U.S. senator’s charity foundation.
The plan is to gather as much evidence as possible and provide proof of their crimes to journalists. It’s a long shot, but the best shot we have to cripple the fucking system.
As for Luca, he found his way out. We’ve kept him hidden someplace remote under the strict protection of some of my strongest men. He’ll need to stay hidden until all of this is completely over.
We’re on the path to victory. But right now, that victory means nothing without her here.
“The men have also—”
“Later.” I press my lips into a thin line and continue walking out of the mansion. The sight of a white bouquet of lilies is the first thing that greets me when I open my car door. I hold my breath while getting in, turning on the ignition, and revving out.
“Fuck!” I slam my hand against the steering wheel, my chest thickening as emotions rush through me. When I asked him to, Alej had found out that she’s with Jasmine, a girl from the club. He also said that gifts are one way to a woman’s heart and encouraged me to go with some.
Over the past few days, I’ve been visiting Selene with a different gift—flowers, expensive jewelry, teddies—anything to make her look at me the way she used to.
I’d approach the house in hopes that it’d be my last time and I could finally have her back, but each time I end up finding pieces of my heart on the floor.
Her answer remained the same. She needs time. But I can’t afford more time.
I need to find a way to pour all of my heart out to her.
The tires screech to a halt as I park in front of the familiar gift store. Getting out of the car, I shove the door open and grit my teeth at the irritating noise from the bell that jingles overhead.
“Good day, sir,” greets the same old woman whose hair is slicked into a tight bun. “What can I get you today?”
My heart squeezes in my chest as I open my mouth and close it.
I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
I just want my fiancée back. I’m damn near asking the woman for advice when my eyes catch a pile of cards—some open and others closed—behind a glass shelf.
They’re the normal greeting cards, but with an I’m Sorry header and blank pages inside. Suddenly, an idea lights up in my head.
“Clear the store.”
Her eyes widen, but she dares not question me. She politely requests that all other customers leave and flips the closed sign. I barely notice her walk back to me as my eyes dart around once again. Maybe I’ve been too narrow. If I want my girl back, I have to apologize…for everything.
“Get me a pen and paper. And every gift in this place that doesn’t look like it was made for a child.”
Ignoring the slight gasp that escapes her lips, I take her now empty space behind the counter, collecting the pen and card she drops before me. The pen feels heavy in my hand as my fingers shake. My mind suddenly goes blank. I don’t know if it’s out of fear or nervousness.
But as the ball of the pen comes in contact with the card, the words flow.
And I start with the very first time I thought I offended her.
Months ago, when I fired you…
The store associate’s stare burns my head, but right now, all I think of is conveying how I feel.
I’m not much of a writer, and maybe that’s what causes the occasional sweat that beads my temples. But I push through, taking card after card, writing on it and sticking it to the gift items the receptionist places before me.
I don’t know how long I spend there, but by the time I’m done, I have a truckload of gifts scattered before me, each with a heartfelt note. A breath of satisfaction escapes me when I read the last two.
Yesterday, for every second I waited to beg.
Today, for thinking that any of this can fix what I broke.
“This is more gifts than I have sold in two weeks,” the woman breathes, her eyes widening in surprise. “They won’t fit into your car, sir.”
Quickly, I find my wallet and drop a huge stack of cash that makes her eyes almost bulge out. “Then get me a delivery truck.”
After dropping the address of delivery, I climb into my car and step on the gas, swerving and gliding through traffic with hope and prayers yet again.
In about thirty minutes, my car slows to a halt outside the tiny, worn-down house. Doubt creeps into my chest but I shake my head, steadying my breath.
Fuck. This is hard. I’ve never cared to do anything like this before. All of these…feelings are completely new. I’ve never felt them for anyone, not even Mallory.
A low sigh slips past my lips. Perhaps I just never met the right woman! Or maybe turning a man, who’d never bend, to one who’d crawl just for forgiveness is what real love does to you.
I wait a few more minutes for the delivery truck. When it arrives, I straighten out my clothes, grab the bouquet of flowers in the passenger seat and walk to the door. My heart thumps harshly in my chest as I raise a fist to knock. Once. Twice. Thrice. No response.
Running a hand through my hair, I release a breath. The men I installed to watch her for protection had said she’s home. I’m doubting the veracity of their statement when the door clicks open, and she appears.
Her hair is messy, her eyes swollen as if she’s just woken up. The dark hoodie she wears drowns out her frame, but she’s still beautiful.
She breathes sharply, eyes falling to the bouquet in my hands.
“How are you?” I breathe, watching how her fingers fiddle with the strings of the hoodie.
“Cortez, you don’t have to—”
“Selene, please, just hear me out…again,” I say softly. As if on cue, the truck driver starts to bring the gift items.
She gasps, eyes widening at the quantity. “Cortez, what…”
I pick up the first gift item. It’s a cute little jewelry box. It’s nothing compared to what I’d buy for Selene. But, right now, the value isn’t in the price. It’s in my actions.
“The day I fired you,” I start, gaze flicking between the card and her eyes, “I told myself it was a strategy. You were doing things to my head, and I thought the best thing to do was to distance myself. I failed to see how that hurt you. For that, I’m sorry.”
Stepping forward, I give her the box together with the bouquet; she accepts it, still staring at me like I have two heads. Picking up another huge teddy bear, I read the card attached to it.
“For shutting you out…” I swallow. “I’ve been an asshole to you for so long. Treated you based on my own discretion on how things should be. For that, I’m sorry.”
Oh, Lord! I am not good at this. At expressing my feelings and my emotions. I am just hoping she realizes that I really mean every single word I say, no matter how inarticulate they sound.
She cocks a brow when I hand her the teddy, her eyes watering as she accepts it. “I’m glad you know you’re an asshole.” She shakes her head, her voice breaking with a slight chuckle. My heart leaps at the sound.
God, I miss her.
The box of chocolate feels heavy in my hand as I pick it up. This time, I don’t look at the card as I talk. She listens with rapt attention and I’m elated when I notice that, unlike the other times I came here, her shoulders aren’t rigid and they start to soften. She doesn’t seem so tense anymore.
As I pour my heart out to her, her eyes well up with tears. Her hands are now full of items. When I bend to pick up another, she stops me.
“That’s enough,” she says, a faint smile slipping through her tears.
My fingers itch to wipe the wetness off her cheeks. It takes everything in me not to pull her close and kiss her tears away. But my heart is still full. There’s still a lot I want to say so I continue.
“I’m a man burdened by my past, Selene. Sometimes I’m unable to see past my own traumas. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m still able to see past them now. But I know I’m willing to try…for you.”
Her soft expression is all the push I need to keep going.
“The mansion doesn’t feel the same without you. I miss your smile, your remarks, your defiant glare. I miss all of you, Selene. And I promise not to mess things up if you give me a second chance.”
My heart strains with every second that the silence stretches. Right now…in this moment, I can feel everything, the way my heart pounds in my ears, how my throat clenches, the way her hands tighten around the gifts.
“I acknowledge it, Cortez,” she finally replies, eyes shimmering with emotions. “Your apologies… Thank you.”
I should be happy, but the way she says it, as if she’s holding back, scares me.
“But there’s something else.”
Something inside me breaks. If she’s found someone else already…
“I’m pregnant,” she whispers, looking unsure. My eyes widen.
“W-What?”
For a moment, the world stops. Pregnant. The words echo in my head, sending a surge of something wild through my veins. It’s ecstasy…joy…happiness.
I’m going to be a father. The next thing I know, the box falls from my hand as I close the distance between us. My hands cup her face, thumbs brushing the fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you sure?” I breathe against her face.
She nods, placing my hands on her stomach. “About four weeks now.”
My breath hitches as I feel the small bump. I pause, then something hits me. She was pregnant when that bastard Ramirez kidnapped and assaulted her. I feel my body visibly shake in anger. If only I could go back in time and make him die a slower, more torturous death.
“Cortez?” Her tentative voice reaches my ears, and I pull myself back to reality. The baby is okay, and Selene is fine. I feel my blood cool down.
I don’t know when a laugh tumbles out of my mouth or when I crash my lips against hers. All I know is that I feel alive again.
The gifts crash to the ground as she wraps her arms around my neck.
I pull back to look into her eyes, then press my forehead against hers. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too,” she says softly, sending my heart into a reckless spike.
Placing a kiss on her forehead, I drop my head in the curve of her neck, inhaling her soft, feminine scent. This moment…I would never trade it for anything.
“Thank you…thank you for giving me what I didn’t know I needed.” I stay buried there, just reveling in the feeling of her against me. Home.
Then something hits me, and I pull back, hands balling into fists.
“Do you…would you be comfortable raising our baby in the mafia?” Fear rises in my chest with each second she doesn’t answer. I’ve learned from the godfathers that kids change a lot of things.
Slowly, a smirk pulls her lips, her hands falling to her stomach. “What do you think, Cortez?”
I reply almost immediately. “That you love it, but I don’t know if—”
“No ifs,” she answers, leaning against the threshold, eyes shining with amusement. “I know you’d do anything to keep us safe.”
I release a deep breath, all fears in my heart silenced.
Fuck. I love this woman.
And our unborn child.