Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Pablo
“Papá?” I keep my voice low as I walk down the stairs to the first floor.
“Sí, mijo. How’re you doing?” Yes, my son.
“I’m all right. Better than what’s left of Humberto.”
A couple of armed men incinerated him, and the ash has joined the silt on the bed of the Le River.
“Alejandro and I are in Bogotá. We took off as soon as we found out you left.”
My cousin makes so many trips between Colombia and the States that he has his own private jet.
It’s his second since that motherfucker, Carmine Mancinelli, fucked around with Alejandro’s first one.
Alejandro’s not the only one who enjoys expensive toys.
Carmine lost six race cars he owns, two NASCAR and four Formula One.
Too bad, so sad for his teams that went without vehicles until he could replace them.
I used our family jet to get down here and to fly Flora to this estate. Papá traveled with Alejandro.
“Do you know where you’ll start?”
I’m certain Papá and Alejandro already have a plan. They’re calling to share it with me rather than to ask whether I want their help. They know the answer to that without asking.
Of course, I do. I’ll take any help that means I can keep Flora safer.
“Alejandro will investigate who conspired with Humberto. He’ll find out who in the government thought they had more power than your tío.”
Find out who had the death wish. My cousin will not only find out who it was, he’ll dispose of them as well. If more than one person was involved, Alejandro won’t disclose the secret of why he punished those men. But he’ll make an example of them, so others don’t make the same mistake they did.
“What about you, Papá?”
“I will check into la alcantarilla.” The sewer.
He names the worst penitentiary in Colombia.
It houses the most violent criminals. Ones who are there for life without any possibility of parole.
My father comes and goes from these prisons like he’s racking up points at a Hilton or Marriott.
There are plenty of prison wardens and guards who could retire any time now and live a comfortable life, never working another day.
It’s a dangerous role, but he’s had it since he was in his twenties.
It’s how he earned the name el Espíritu Santo.
He slips in anywhere and delivers Tío Enrique’s message as though it were being handed down from above.
Most men know if he seeks them out, they will “shuffle off this mortal coil”—Shakespeare had such a turn of phrase.
They’re just more likely to go down than up.
He’ll find out which mercenaries were a part of this.
The men who lead the street gangs will know what’s going on since some of them will have been foolish enough to send members after Flora.
It wouldn’t be any gang member who succeeded, but rather some professional mercenary.
Men will try if they think the money is right, and they’re desperate enough either for a cash payout or to improve their reputation as merciless killers.
“When will you take off?” Papá’s voice draws me back to the present and away from my wandering ruminations.
“I’ll let her sleep for another couple of hours, but we’ll leave well before dawn. I don’t want there to be any possibility someone sees us take off or recognizes our plane.”
“Is the jet fueled?”
“Yes. I made sure it was as soon as we arrived in case we needed to turn around and leave abruptly.”
“Good. Stay in touch, Pablo. Don’t make your mamá and me worry.”
“I know, Papá.”
We rarely talk about Juan anymore. It still causes my parents deep-seated pain to think about him or hear his name.
They accept his fate and know I took no pleasure in my role.
Neither of them blames Tío Enrique either.
Juan lived by the sword and died by the sword.
He made his choices. I did what I could to get him away from New York when Tío banished him, but it left him vulnerable to make more shitty decisions.
Once he came back to NYC on his own, he put himself back on Maksim Kutsenko’s radar.
If he’d just stayed away and accepted the support Tío Enrique and I offered him, then perhaps he would’ve remained exiled rather than dead.
But ever since that disaster, Mamá and Papá worry about me even more than they did before.
Not because they believe I’ll fuck up. They don’t want to lose another son.
None of what happened was a secret kept from Mamá.
She came from a cartel family, just like Domingo’s.
They thought they could rival los Diaz. They discovered how wrong they were.
Papá’s and Mamá’s fathers arranged their marriage.
I know my abuelo and abuela learned as much about Mamá as they could before they even introduced my parents.
Their situation differed from Tía Luciana and Domingo’s. It’s unfortunate they couldn’t pick Tía Luciana’s soulmate from the beginning like they did for Papá. But Tía Luciana wound up with the man destiny meant for her.
Papá and Mamá fell in love almost immediately. It took them a while to get to know each other, but much like Flora and I share an instant mutual attraction, the same was true for them. Except they were already married when they discovered how much they wanted their futures to blend.
I hope Flora and I can be soulmates like my parents are and that we can have a future like the one my parents have built. We just need to survive.
“Papá, I’ll check in with you when we get to the house.”
“Check in mid-flight, Pablo.”
“Sí, Papá.”
It’s not like I have to call every couple of hours to let my family know I’m okay. But it’s a courtesy that we always check in when we’re traveling, especially in a situation like this where there’s more danger than usual.
“Papá, I need to go. I don’t want Flora to wake up and wonder where I am.”
I wince as I realize what I just admitted. It’s not like my parents believe I’m a virgin. It wouldn’t surprise me if they knew I belong to a BDSM club. They probably know all my cousins and I do. Even my brother did.
However, that’s different from basically confessing to your parents that you’re sleeping with a woman. If we were good Catholics, it would be even more uncomfortable since Flora and I aren’t married. But that’s the least of my concerns.
“Take care of her, mijo. It sounds like she’s someone special.”
“Papá, she is.”
Silence rests between us for a moment, and I know he understands.
I believe Flora’s the one. I don’t have to say it.
He already figured it out since I’m going to such extremes to protect her.
It’s not like I would’ve washed my hands of her if I weren’t attracted to her and thought she might be my future.
But he knows my various tones, so he understands what I’m not saying.
“Te quiero, mijo.” I love you, son.
“Te quiero, Papá.” I love you, Papa.
We hang up, and I make my way back up to the bedroom. I slip into bed beside Flora after I set my alarm for two hours from now. It goes off entirely too soon.
“Chiquita.” I kiss her cheek and give her a gentle shake. “Chica.”
“Daddy?”
Her sleepy voice shoots lust straight to my cock.
When her eyes flutter open, her groggy look is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I watch her come alert enough to realize what’s going on.
We sit up together, and she looks toward the window before looking back at me in fear.
I shake my head and tuck hair behind her ear.
“It’s all right, chica. Nothing’s happening, but we need to leave.”
“Now? In the middle of the night?”
“Yes, it’s safer for us than when the sun’s up.”
“Will you please tell me where we’re going?”
“Switzerland.”
It’s not against my better judgment to tell her like I thought it would be earlier.
It’s not that my fear that something could go wrong is gone, but I understand how out of control she feels about this entire situation.
She’s placed her trust in me, and that’s invaluable.
However, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to have some semblance of control of her life.
She’ll let me lead, and I love that she’s willing to follow.
But it doesn’t mean we’re always in a D/s arrangement.
I realize that would never work because I want her as my equal outside of sex. I want to get her opinion on things, and I don’t want her to ever feel like she doesn’t have a voice, or that her thoughts and feelings don’t matter to me outside of sex.
“Switzerland? Like to a chalet?” The left side of her mouth twitches into a hint of a smile.
“Something like that, little one. But there’s no resort nearby.”
“Good.”
Her answer is swift and emphatic.
It’s my turn for my lips to twitch. “Are you hoping for a sex hideout? Somewhere where I can keep you naked all day with no distractions?”
“I wouldn’t say no to that, Daddy.”
“Neither would I, chiquita.”
I push back the covers and get out of bed. She notices the suitcases I brought up earlier. Daniel’s wife provided her with nearly an entire wardrobe. It surprised us both how much he brought.
I already told her we’d leave the unopened packages of panties behind.
She nearly flipped out on me, refusing to leave any hint to anybody that she’s agreed to go commando under her clothes.
I don’t know how Esme managed it, but most of the clothes still have tags on them, and the bras and panties are brand new.
I just know we owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude.
We pack in near silence, since there’s not much more for us to discuss.
She knows there’s little more I can share, so she doesn’t ask questions I can’t or won’t answer.
She doesn’t want to put me in that position, and she doesn’t want my blank stare or my lies.
We both know it’s unfortunate, but it’s better that way.