Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Flora
I slept harder than I expected while on the plane. It’s a lot to take in when I arrive and find Enrique waiting for us on the tarmac. As though Luis and Alejandro weren’t intimidating enough, now el jefe’s greeting me.
Luis has been nothing but kind to me. However, he’s still my boyfriend’s father and el Espíritu Santo. Alejandro’s reserved and kind of gruff, but not unkind. It’s his size that’s overwhelming. As huge as Pablo is, Alejandro’s even broader. He’s built like a mighty oak tree.
It amazes me how much Pablo and Luis look alike. It’s a mirror into the past and window into the future. It’s easy to see what Luis must have looked like twenty-something years ago and what Pablo will look like as he ages.
Alejandro is practically a mirror of Enrique.
However, Pablo explained that when I meet Alejandro’s father, Matáis, I’ll realize Alejandro is simply a younger version of his father.
As a biologist, genetics fascinates me. That Alejandro can look so much like a man on one side of his family yet have the personality of a man on the other side intrigues me.
It makes me wonder how much of the latter is nature versus nurture.
Enrique greets me with a smile. The man is pure silver fox.
He has laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.
There’s gray at his temples and a little shot through his hair.
He’s charming, and it puts me at ease until I realize that’s probably how he is with men right before he kills them.
That makes my stomach twist into a knot that sits heavily in my lower abdomen.
“Senorita, welcome.”
His accent is so familiar. I suppose I expected him to sound more like Pablo, even though Luis has the same accent as his brother.
It’s obvious Enrique and Luis grew up in Colombia, whereas Pablo and Alejandro have that distinct New York Spanish accent.
I know Pablo grew up in New Jersey, though.
I’m familiar with the area because I did my undergrad at Rutgers.
“Thank you, jefe.”
“Please call me Enrique.”
“Tío, it’s good to see you. Thank you for coming out.”
I appreciate Pablo taking the attention off me.
“Of course.”
The men embrace as though it’s been years since they’ve seen each other, even though it’s only been a few days since Alejandro and Luis left here. I’ve never seen men on either side of my family be so demonstrative. If I didn’t know it was affection, it would appear like mighty titans clashing.
All four men look like they could be Atlas with the weight of the world resting upon their shoulders. I’m certain on many days they feel more like Sisyphus with a boulder that keeps rolling back downhill and a lifetime sentence of pushing it back up.
It’s not long before we’re in SUVs. I take a moment to realize why Enrique and Luis are in one vehicle, and Pablo, Alejandro, and I are in another.
The jefe and his heir don’t ride together.
If that isn’t enough to make the fear tempt me to vomit, then I don’t know what is.
It’s not like I didn’t think there’d be dangers here in New York, but I’ve only been on the ground for fifteen minutes, and I’m reminded someone could blow up either or both men. I’m right here alongside Pablo.
“Flora.”
I look up at Pablo, and I know he senses what I’m thinking.
It’s unnerving to both of us how we can already read each other.
He tested me when we were in Switzerland to see whether I’m prepared for the man this life makes him, but he’s worried now as I realize what reality means here.
I offer him a reassuring smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“We can get something to eat along the way if you’re hungry, or I can cook when we get home.”
He still refers to his place as home rather than his condo or apartment. It could feel like he’s putting pressure on me to move in, but it just feels reassuring. It’s as though I already belong here.
“We can cook together if you want.”
We already know we work well together in the kitchen. It’s so ordinary, and that’s what I love most about it. It feels like we’re just a normal couple who enjoy their daily routine.
“That would be nice. I know my cousins brought fresh groceries over.”
And I’m right back to feeling like I might vomit.
He doesn’t mean Alejandro. He’s referring to Tres J’s.
That sucks the wind out of my sails since I know I’ll inevitably meet Luciana, Joaquin, Javier, and Jorge.
That’s the thing I’m least eager to do, but I’ll have to get it over with eventually.
It doesn’t take long to get from the private airfield in New Jersey to Pablo’s condo in Manhattan.
As much as I’d like to be alone with him as I get to know his place, I understand that’s impossible.
Pablo has a couple of spare bedrooms. One’s his office, another’s a gym, and the third is a guest bedroom.
He made it clear that’s not where I’ll sleep.
We brought several boxes with us in the airplane’s hold while others will be shipped here rather than stored in Colombia.
He instructs his men to put the boxes in the guest room.
There are some things I want to get out, so I head in there while the men talk in the living room.
It tempts me to eavesdrop, but I don’t dare.
I’m certain I don’t want to hear whatever they discuss, and Pablo wouldn’t trust me anymore if I did.
I spend the next half hour going through things, repacking some boxes now that I’ve had more time to consider how to organize my belongings.
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Pablo’s voice. I didn’t hear him open the door.
“Chiquita, can you come and join us? We need to discuss a few things.”
Pablo warned me about the conversation to come. I just didn’t think it would be this soon. He slides his hand into mine and laces our fingers together.
“It’s okay, chiquita. I’ll stay beside you. I won’t leave you to deal with this alone.”
“Thank you, Papí.”
Just calling him that calms me more than I realized. Before we step into the hallway, he gives me a searing kiss. I’d rather he stripped me naked and fucked me among all these boxes than have to speak to his uncle, father, and cousin.
“Later, chiquita.”
His free hand cups my jaw. I love it when he does that. It’s so damn sexy. He pulls away all too soon, and we join the men in the living room. They all stand as I enter. Enrique takes the lead. Hardly surprising.
“Thank you for coming out here.”
Do I really have a choice?
I can’t ask that question aloud, but my face must say it for me because Enrique’s expression becomes far more sympathetic.
He’s not the cruel narco-trafficker who eats his enemies for breakfast, like I was told as a child.
It surprises me how fast I lowered my guard with Pablo, considering my childhood indoctrination.
It speaks to Pablo’s character and the man I know he is that I never tried to run or kill him.
My faith that he’d never put me in a situation where someone could harm me is the original reason I didn’t panic when I realized Enrique and the others were coming upstairs with us.
Now I see nothing but a man who’s welcoming his enemy’s daughter into his world without malice.
I can’t imagine anyone on my father’s side of the family welcoming Pablo like this. I take a seat on the sofa next to Pablo. It puts me between Luis and him. Alejandro and Enrique have the two armchairs.
Pablo has an enormous sectional that can probably hold all the men in his family.
But it would be odd if we spread out around it as though we needed a distance or had factions.
Instead, Luis sitting beside me reassures no one will ostracize me.
Enrique jumps straight in, and I’m glad there are no prevarications or small talk.
“We ended the open contract, but I’m unconvinced you’re out of danger for a couple reasons.
As you know, we suspect someone here funded Humberto, but we don’t know who yet.
However, my bigger concern is Ernesto. You know he’s an unforgiving man, and you chose our family over his.
Ernesto is likely to come after you and expect you not only to go back to Colombia but to beg forgiveness. ”
Just like when Pablo says “our,” and I know it includes me, I feel the same way when Enrique says it. It doesn’t leave me feeling lost in the middle since I’ve never fully felt like an Aguilar, and I definitely don’t feel like one now.
Pablo squeezes my hand, and I shift my attention to him.
“Flora, I found out on the plane that Ernesto was already on his way here. He landed a couple hours before us.”
“My abuelo’s already here in New York?”
Panic makes my chest tighten. Maybe in a little while Pablo not telling me this as soon as he found out will piss me off. But right now, fear is the stronger emotion.
“Flora, I said nothing to you because I wanted more information. I wanted to explain things to you rather than leave you with more unanswered questions than there has to be.”
He means things I’ll ask that he’ll never tell me. The things I don’t want to know, and the things the U.S. or Colombian governments could ask me about. The less I know, the less I can say.
I remind myself Pablo has my best interests at heart. He’s not manipulating me like my family has. I might not agree with his idea of what’s best for me, but I trust that each of his decisions takes that into consideration.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yes, he’s staying at the Waldorf Astoria.”
I huff and shake my head. “He certainly isn’t going for inconspicuous.”
I haven’t stayed there, but I’ve seen photos. They say the interior is lavish. I think it’s gaudy and ostentatious. In other words, perfect for my abuelo.
“He’s been there since he got into the city. He went directly to his room from JFK.”