Chapter 20
TWENTY
age 18
After the last six months, the smell of blood never went away. It tinged inside my nose and on the tip of my tongue. It was a permanent dead look in my eyes and black stain on my fingers.
It’d started in Cuba, after the death of my whole family, led me towards Veracruz and towards Abuelo’s enemies, then ended in Vegas, where the Kings had retribution of their own to deal out.
I’d killed enough men to last a lifetime but I had one final execution to complete before leaving Cuba forever.
And this one was personal. One Tatiana would never forgive me for.
I stared at the empty window—her window. My light, my star, my everything.
I needed to see her tonight. She was the only one who could soothe the angry beast inside me.
And yet, she'd long ago given up tying red ribbons that blew softly in the window.
She'd long ago given up on me.
I didn't blame her.
I'd abandoned them both: her and Rook, the best friends a person could ever have.
But I didn’t deserve them—only people whose hands were stained as black as my own.
I left her street, and strode towards the home that had once been happy and welcoming, but now would be the tomb of my final betrayal.
Raul and the Krapivniks were meeting at this very moment to sign Tatiana’s contract: she was being sold by them, to him.
As soon as I’d left, Raul had immediately moved in, taking over the role meant for me. I’d been too busy to care, and now I had no desire to continue any kind of role here.
All that mattered was Tatiana.
The house had a somber feeling to it. Gone were the babbling water fountains out front, the gardeners or the cheerful visitors. The only thing remaining were the guards out front.
They nodded respectfully as I approached, and Pedro met me at the front door. Just like the outside, the inside was dark and somber. Instead of doing business out in the open in the front sala , Raul had set up in the office my abuelo rarely used.
I felt no nostalgia as I passed the sala or my Lita’s kitchen, and went through the hallway with original artwork and beautifully carved statues. It was nothing but a relic to me now—the people who made this place a comfy home, no longer here to fill it.
I stopped outside the closed doors to Abuelo’s office, with Pedro standing silent and loyal by my side.
"What about this process do you not understand?” Raul’s gruff voice through the door was filled with disdain. “As soon as you agreed to talks, you should've cut off any other clients. That’s a complete disrespect of my position."
"Sir--" Tatiana's father sputtered, "it's not that. This had been arranged long ago. The Venezuelan only visits once every few months, and I couldn't cancel with him. He's--"
"That's not my concern," Raul growled, letting the room fall into silence.
I clenched my hand into a fist, fighting to control my emotions. Tati wasn't at her house tonight because she had an 'appointment' with some Venezuelan drug lord. Even now, when they’d be given enough money to live comfortably for the rest of their lives, her parents were trying to squeeze out every drop.
“Sir,” her father begged, “please let us just?—“
"It's a fucking disrespect and you knew it!" Raul slammed his fist on the desk, "It's as if you didn’t even want to sell her off, you perros sucios. ”
"Raul," her mother interjected, purring, "we swear, there was no intent to disrespect you. Of course, we'll go there right now and--"
"Don't bother," he spit out, “I’ve already…made adjustments to the contract for the impertinence." There was the sound of Raul collecting papers, pushing them towards her parents. I didn't need to read them to know that Raul only wanted an excuse to pay less.
I'd heard enough.
Plastering a feral grin on my face, I strode through the door, and the room suddenly descended into silence as all eyes turned towards me, blinking in surprise.
“Hello, Tio ,” I passed Tatiana's parents without looking at them, headed towards where Raul was sitting. "Am I interrupting something important?”
Raul jumped to his feet, stuttering for the first time. "Kn-Knight. Pedro didn't tell me you were coming."
"Do I need permission from you to return to my home, Tio?"
"Of course not," grabbing the papers on his desk, no doubt trying to hide the contract from me, he abandoned his seat and began to scramble towards the door. "I'll let you do your business. Let me know if you need me for anything."
Tatiana's parents also got to their feet, asking me to excuse them, following Raul to the door.
“No. Stay," I demanded.
Raul hesitated, but when he turned around, his expression was polite and respectful. "Of course."
He held out his hand to Tatiana’s parents and they, too, tried to make excuses. But, at the look on Raul's face—that he would skin them alive if they dared leave the office—turned back. They all sat on the blue sofa across from El Abuelo's desk.
“Pedro?”
Pedro poked his head through the door.
"You can shut the door now."
“Yes, sir." He nodded, coming inside and closing the door behind him, and I caught the glimpse of resentment on Raul's face before he schooled it back into a polite mask.
Now he understood that Pedro and I were in alignment.
I had always known that Raul hated that Abuelo meant to leave the business to me. I was much younger than Raul, and half American. I was also in and out of Cuba, deciding to spend most of my time in Vegas, instead of shoring up the familia in Cuba.
He thought I was young and naive.
But, I really didn't give a shit what Raul thought.
“Senor," Raul started, but I held up my hand, cutting him off.
"Silence." I glanced at the papers shoved in between Raul and the side of the sofa. "Let me see them."
Raul's throat bobbed. "I can explain."
“No need." I waved my hand in a beckoning motion, staring at the paper meaningfully. “Give them to me.”
His hands shook as he reached down, pulling them out. I let him come to me, my eyes flicking to the top of the desk, indicating him to place them there.
I sat back in the chair, pulling my Beretta from the holster and placed it on the table, facing Raul. His throat bobbed again as he stared at it, but he didn't speak.
"I'm surprised you didn't come to me about this first, Raul."
"Again, I must explain," he rushed, "you left the business in my hands. I didn't realize that I had to ask for your permission on who I married."
"And what made you think,” I crooked an eyebrow upward, casually reaching into the inner pocket of my suit jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, “that I left the business to you?”
“Senor, you didn’t return.” Raul’s face was red. “You understand the position I was in.”
I opened Abuelo’s desk drawer, pushing aside paperclips and some pesos until I found what I was looking for. Tatiana’s mother was staring towards the window, pretending she hadn’t been involved in this negotiation. Her father was shifting uncomfortably, glancing at Raul.
“Is the sofa not comfortable enough for you?” I asked her father.
He immediately stilled, his face growing splotchy. “No, no, Senor. It’s the most comfortable sofa I’ve ever sat on.”
“Really?” I leaned forward to stare into his eyes.
“Yes.” His throat bobbed.
“Huh,” I grunted, leaning back to light a cigarette with Abuelo’s lighter—the only thing I wanted from this house. “It’s at least thirty years old.”
He didn’t answer, only rolled his shoulders self-consciously.
“What I understood was that I was putting down those dogs from Veracruz.” I spoke to Raul now, inhaling on my cigarette. “Where were you? You were supposed to meet me there.”
“I was busy taking care of business here.”
“And this?” I nodded at the contract, pretending to read it.
"I didn't realize you cared about who I fucked," Raul sounded angry now.
"You were wrong," I interrupted him, blowing smoke in his direction. "I care very much. Especially since you're contracting for the very woman I intended to marry."
Tatiana's mother inhaled a sharp breath, and her father blurted out, “We had no idea. Of course, if we had, we wouldn't have agreed to this.”
"I know," I held out the packet of cigarettes towards her mother, "Want one?"
Her eyes fell to the white sticks, eyes glazed with want. American cigarettes were a commodity that no one turned down. "Thank you, Senor,” she reached forward, taking one.
I handed her the lighter, offering Tatiana’s father one.
He immediately accepted.
“Knight,” Raul tried to reason with me. “I know you said you wanted the girl, but I only thought it was a childish crush, nothing more. You have a business to run, and she's just a girl."
"You're right. She is just a girl." I held the cigarette packet to him, and he absentmindedly took one, lighting it up with his own lighter.
“This was why I was waiting, not because of everything else on my plate. I'm able to keep a woman happy at the same time as running my business, Raul," my voice was mocking.
He sputtered in indignation, and her parents chuckled. I turned to them, delighting in the way all three of them were puffing on their cigarettes. "Had I known you were going to sell her for so little, I’d have taken her years ago.”
The laughter died in their throats, and I glanced down at the contract on my desk. "Only one mil?”
"It's plenty," Raul growled out, "she isn't even a virgin."
I studied him, putting my own cigarette out. "And if she was one? Satisfy my curiosity, what would she be worth?"
Both her parents’ faces swiveled towards him, hunger in their expressions. The idiots thought I was going to allow this exchange to take place.
What they didn't know was that they'd already signed their own death warrants.
“Maybe a few hundred thousand more?” Raul struggled to come up with an answer that would satisfy me but wouldn’t require much more from him.
“Only that much?” Her father huffed, and I leaned back in my chair to watch the ensuing argument as the three of them began to bicker over a new number.
I watched without amusement, knowing that this night would change everything between me and Tatiana.
I'd made a promise to her that I was breaking, and I knew that she would never forgive me.
I was willing to take her wrath though, for her protection and retribution.
It was the mother who realized that something was wrong first. She placed her hand on her chest, trying to clear her throat. She did this several times, then began to wheeze.
Her husband grew distracted, torn between his negotiations for more money and his wife’s distress. He kept glancing between her and Raul, still arguing.
Then his own breath grew short, and he stopped arguing as a foam slid down the woman's chin, her lips turning a shade of blue.
“Anna, what's wrong--" Her father didn't finish, as his own hand went to his throat. He began to cough.
"You bastard!" Raul jumped to his feet, understanding washing over him first. He lunged for the door, but didn't make it before he collapsed to the Italian rug, his whole body jerking.
“You have no idea,” I growled, but he didn’t hear me.
Both Pedro and I watched emotionless as the three people I hated the most struggled to breathe, their bodies twisting torturously as they suffocated to death.
My only regret was Tatiana.
Their deaths would be devastating to her. For some goddamn reason, she still loved her parents, despite what they did to her.
When the room was still, I stood, buttoning my suit as I addressed Pedro. "You'll take care of the bodies?"
"Yes, of course.”
“And Tatiana?”
He nodded. “You don't have anything to worry about."
After pocketing Abuelo’s lighter, I strode towards the door, not even glancing towards the three bodies. I stopped to point at Pedro. "If I hear that you haven't protected her as we've agreed, I will be back, and your death won't be as kind."
He met my gaze. "I have no desire to fuck a seventeen year old kid." His words were fierce, and I knew them to be true. Pedro was more like Abuelo. He'd been married to his wife for over thirty years, and, as far as I knew, he'd never cheated on her.
And he always kept his word.
I nodded, leaning over to kiss him once on the cheek, then walked out the door, never to return to Cuba again.