25. Xander #2
The tension in his shoulders eased. A proud, paternal smile transformed his face. “Sofia. My Sofia. She is… passionate. Plays midfielder for her high school. Thinks she’s the next big thing.”
“And she has a birthday soon?” I guessed, seeing the youthful glow on her face. “Big party planned?”
Surprise, then dawning understanding, flashed across his face. “Next month. Her quinceanera. Her mother has been planning it for a year. It’s costing me a fortune.” He paused, the pieces clicking into place. “You’re offering to show up at my daughter’s party?”
I leaned back, letting the idea sink in. “Not just show up. I’ll be the guest of honor. I’ll take pictures, sign autographs, dance with her if that’s the tradition. I will give her a night her friends will be talking about until their own kids’ quinceaneras.”
From the corner, Diego made a choked, disbelieving sound. Torres didn’t even register it. He was lost in thought, the mob boss and the doting father at war behind his eyes.
“Mr. Torres,” I pressed, going in for the kill.
“You can get your pound of flesh from him,” I gestured to Diego, “and it’s just another Tuesday.
Or… you can give your daughter something no amount of money can ever buy.
You can be the dad who made her ultimate dream come true. You can be a legend to her.”
He was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. “She has been talking about your transfer for a month,” he admitted softly. “Bought your jersey the day it was released, just before it sold out. Convinced me to get season tickets.”
“Then you know what this is worth,” I said.
He looked at Diego, then back at me. Finally, he burst out laughing, a loud, genuine sound that filled the room. He stood and extended his hand again. “Deal, Mr. McCrae. My wife will be in touch about the details for Sofia’s party.”
I shook it, relief washing over me so fast I felt light-headed. “Looking forward to it.”
Torres nodded to his men. “Cut him loose. Get him out of here.” To me, he said, “Mr. Mano is, of course, no longer welcome here. But tell him he is lucky. Loyalty like yours is rare.” He gave Diego a look of pure dismissal. “He should find a way to repay it.”
We made our way back through the club, Diego leaning heavily on Ben and me. The patrons barely glanced at us this time, returning to their games as if nothing unusual had happened. The same guard escorted us to the exit, his face expressionless as he held the door open.
The bright sun was blinding after the dim interior of the club. I squinted, scanning the street until I spotted our car a block away. Tara was in the driver’s seat, her posture tense as she watched us approach.
She jumped out when she saw Diego’s condition. “Jesus Christ,” she breathed, her doctor’s instincts taking over. “Get him in the back seat. I need to check those injuries.”
We maneuvered Diego into the car, where Tara began examining his face with a practiced, gentle touch.
“Looks worse than it is,” she pronounced after a moment.
“Contusions, possible hairline fracture of the cheekbone. You’ll need X-rays.
” She paused, her fingers gently probing his mouth. “And you’ve split your lip. Again.”
The pointed remark hung in the air. Diego flinched, but not from her touch. He wouldn't meet my eyes. “Appreciate it, Doc,” he mumbled.
Ben fidgeted nervously by the car. “Should I drive him to the ER?”
“I’ve got him,” Tara said. “Let’s take him to your penthouse, Xander, and I can clean the wounds.”
I nodded. “Ben, take Diego in your car, and follow us. I’ll ride with Tara.”
We pulled into the parking garage beneath my penthouse building. Ben parked beside us, then helped Diego out of the car. Despite Tara’s assessment that his injuries weren’t life-threatening, he still looked like hell—battered, exhausted, and defeated.
“Let’s get him upstairs,” I said.
The elevator ride to the penthouse was a study in tense silence.
Diego leaned against the mirrored wall, his good eye closed, looking like a man who had just seen the end of his world.
Ben stood by his side, a silent, worried guardian.
When the doors finally slid open, Leo was waiting.
His face shifted from relief at seeing me to controlled shock at the sight of Diego.
“What the?—”
“Long story,” I cut him off. “Can you get an ice pack and the first aid kit?”
Leo nodded once, disappearing toward the kitchen as Ben and I guided Diego to the large leather couch. He sank into it with a groan, his head falling back against the cushions.
Tara had already followed Leo, and she returned with the kit and a bowl of warm water. She knelt in front of the couch, her movements efficient and all business.
I stood over them, crossing my arms. “You owe me an explanation, Mano.”
Diego’s good eye fluttered open. The shame in it was a foreign look on him. “I know,” he rasped. “First thing tomorrow, I’m withdrawing the police report. From the other day.” He shook his head, a pained, self-deprecating motion. “I had it coming. I provoked you.”
He then shifted his gaze to Tara, and the usual arrogance was completely gone, replaced by a raw, genuine remorse. “And Dr. Swanson… Tara… I’m sorry. For the way I’ve been acting. The things I said to you, to him about you… there’s no excuse. It was bullshit.”
Tara paused in her work, her eyes meeting his. She simply nodded. “Apology accepted, Diego.”
The apology hung in the air, a fragile truce. It didn't explain nearly enough.
“It wasn’t just you, was it?” Tara asked, her voice quiet but sharp as she started cleaning a cut on his cheek. “The provocations, the hostility. It felt… organized. Who was paying you, Diego?”
His eye widened slightly. He looked from her to me. “How did you know?”
“We know more than you think,” I said grimly. “Start talking.”
Diego let out a long, shuddering sigh of defeat. “It started when I got here. I got in deep with some bookies… sports betting. Thought I had some inside track, but it just kept going wrong. Suddenly I owed fifty grand. Then a hundred.”
“And Hank found out,” I guessed, the pieces clicking into place.
Diego nodded. “Don’t know how, but he knew everything. Called me into his office, laid out every single one of my debts, and offered me a deal. He’d cover all my payments if I’d do him a ‘favor’.”
“Make my life hell,” I said flatly.
“Yeah.” He had the decency to look ashamed.
“He wanted me to get under your skin. Provoke you in practice, talk shit to the press, make you look like the out-of-control hothead everyone already thought you were. He said he needed to show Tara what kind of man you really were. If I could get you to break, get her to finally dump you, he’d wipe the entire debt clean. ”
Tara’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second, her knuckles white around the gauze. “And you agreed.”
“I was desperate,” Diego said, his voice pleading. “And it wasn’t like I had to fake not liking you, McCrae. You came in with the big contract, taking all the attention. It was easy to hate you.”
“So why did Torres’s men grab you today?” Tara asked, her voice devoid of emotion as she resumed her work.
Diego’s face darkened. “Hank said I wasn’t delivering. That you two were getting closer instead of falling apart. He said you weren’t breaking like he wanted.” He shrugged, a gesture of futility. “He stopped paying my markers. Told me I was on my own.”
“But your signing bonus was worth over a million,” Tara pressed, voicing the question I was thinking. “Why not just pay the debt yourself?”
Diego’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Back home… in Colombia… I owed some people. The kind of people you don’t say no to. They took everything before I even left the country.”
The room fell silent as we all processed the depth of the manipulation. Leo, who had been listening from the kitchen doorway, was the first to speak.
“So Hank orchestrated this whole thing—bringing Xander to Miami, paying off his own player to harass him—all to prove a point to Tara?”
“That’s what he said,” Diego confirmed. “He wanted to show her that the man she was obsessed with was nothing special. Just another self-destructive party boy who’d crash and burn.”
Tara’s face had gone pale, her hands trembling slightly as she finished bandaging Diego’s cuts. I reached over and took the gauze from her, our fingers brushing.
“He underestimated both of us,” I said quietly.
She met my eyes, and I saw the shock in them harden into pure steel. “Yes,” she said. “He did.”
Diego looked between us, a slow, dawning realization on his battered face. “You two are actually together, aren’t you? Not just hooking up. I mean, like… real.”
“Yes,” Tara said simply. “We are.”
Diego leaned his head back, a strange, pained laugh escaping him. “Damn. The old man really miscalculated.”
“He did more than that,” I said grimly. “He broke the law. Multiple laws. And now we have a witness.”
“What’re you going to do?” Diego asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I looked at Tara, letting her answer.
“We’re going to expose him,” she said, her voice steady and certain. “For everything. The bribery, the cover-up of my brother’s death, the manipulation, the harassment. All of it.”
Diego’s eye widened. “He’ll destroy you both. He has connections everywhere.”
“Not after we’re done,” Tara said. She stood, gathering the bloody supplies. “Ben, can you take him to the hospital now? He needs those X-rays, and we have work to do.”
Ben, who looked like he’d just watched a multi-car pile-up, finally moved, helping Diego to his feet. At the door, Diego paused and turned back to me.
“Why did you do it?” he asked. “Why risk your life for me when I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you?”
“Because I’m tired of watching people get hurt when I can do something about it,” I said.
Diego nodded slowly, a flicker of true understanding in his eye. “I owe you. Whatever you need against Hank, I’ll testify. I’ll put it in writing. Whatever it takes.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Tara said, holding the door open for them.
After they left, the penthouse felt suddenly quiet. Leo busied himself cleaning up while Tara and I stood in the center of the living room, the full weight of what we’d learned settling over us.
“Your father did all of this,” I said finally. “Just to prove to you that I wasn’t worth your… what did Diego call it? Your obsession?”
Tara’s jaw tightened. “He’s been controlling my life for as long as I can remember. This is just the most elaborate version of it.”
“What now?” Leo asked, returning from the kitchen.
Tara’s eyes met mine, and I saw in them a determination that matched my own. “Now we end this,” she said. “Once and for all.”