Chapter 21 #2
The half an hour between Jorge’s phone call and his family arriving feels like it was about thirty seconds.
He’s barely out of the shower before there’s a knock on the suite’s door.
He goes to answer it, and two of the most remarkable men I’ve ever seen walk in.
In an instant, I can tell which one is Joaquin.
He couldn’t be confused as Jorge’s twin, but the resemblance is strong.
And Alejandro—makes any fashion model look like some schlub off the street.
Okay. He is the pretty one. Maybe I would’ve been attracted to him if I’d never met Jorge.
But it’s everything about Jorge that appeals to me.
His looks and his sheer presence. It’s different from Alejandro because I don’t get a sense his cousin is as introverted as Jorge.
It doesn’t make him as mysterious as my man.
My man. Fuck if that doesn’t sound good.
Jorge greets them with hugs that last longer than most would deem manly.
It’s obvious how close he is to them. His embrace with Alejandro is just as sincere as the one he shares with Joaquin.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he and Alejandro were brothers not cousins.
I think they were likely raised that way.
“This is Anneliese.”
It still sounds odd when I hear him use my full name. He hasn’t done it since we first met, and that was rare. I love my name. I think it’s beautiful, but I prefer Liesel with Jorge. I’ve never loved Anne, but some time in elementary school, it became a default.
“Hello. How was the flight?”
I shake both men’s hand, and their smiles appear genuine. It puts me at ease. I wouldn’t want to meet either of them as shadowy figures in a dark alley, but they’re relaxed and friendly here.
“We’re nepo-babies, so a private jet makes travel easy.”
Joaquin grins with his self-deprecating comment. I’ve hated being called that because of my executive position at the family firm. I’ve shied away from it, but these three men appear to own it. I don’t doubt they all contribute to their family’s businesses—legal or otherwise.
“Thank you for coming. I—”
A lump forms in my throat. The benefits of a few hours of intimacy with Jorge to forget what’s happening slip away.
It crashes back down on me when I recall—again—that these men are only here because we need more help than Jorge can do on his own.
He pulls me into his embrace and kisses my forehead.
I know he’s looking at Alejandro and Joaquin, but I have no idea what their silent communication means.
I can see the other men’s faces, but I can read nothing from them.
“You matter to Jorge, so you matter to all of us. Not quite the welcome to the family we’d like to offer, but we’ll do everything we can.”
I tense and feel him do the same.
Welcome to the family?
I can daydream about that, but we live on two different continents.
I’m set to inherit a family business I can’t easily run remotely.
Not without making trips back here every few weeks.
That’s not the kind of jet-setting I’d like.
Could I walk away? After this and what I’ve dealt with, I think I could.
But Jorge and I haven’t spoken about the future beyond saying we want to be together. Considering me a member of the family is a tremendous leap. The idea warms me from my chest down to my belly and out to my limbs. It makes my cunt ache for him again.
“Thank you.”
“We should sit down and review everything. Liesel, you need to tell us more about what’s happened since the supposed Parisian syndicate approached you. Beyond the bank transactions and emails, did anyone start acting differently toward you?”
Jorge steers the conversation away as we walk toward the sofa and armchairs.
He lifts his arm from around my waist to around my shoulders as we settle beside each other on the sofa.
The men fill the chairs as though they’re thrones when they put their arms on the rests.
They cross their left legs over their right, and I have to wonder if that’s a family genetic trait because they do it so naturally and identically.
I know my father’s secretary was the leak who shared the Diaz Holdings investment intentions, but I don’t know that she has the means to pull off a plan this intricate. I know she sold the information to the Kutsenkos because Jorge told me yesterday. How they leaked it from there, I don’t know.
Friedrich’s revelations yesterday about his family connections would make me question him, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Heidi. Now that I know the things Onkel Clyde’s been up to, I wonder if there’s something between him and Papa I don’t know about.
They’ve always been super close. As far as I know, they rarely argue and have been happy working together, but I’m starting to realize there’s far more I don’t know about my family business than I ever could’ve fathomed. I look over at Jorge before I share my next thoughts.
“How far have you dug for Onkel Clyde’s clients?
Are there ones he could have that I don’t know about?
It seems like there are more secrets at every turn.
Clients Papa and Onkel Clyde kept hidden records for, or maybe even ones Papa doesn’t know about.
Despite being family and having a solid working relationship, this confirms what I’ve always suspected about human nature.
You should never underestimate people’s ability for duplicity and ambition.
You never know how deep that could run.”
All three men nod, and I suspect if anybody understands the truth behind that, it’s them. Joaquin is the one who answers my questions.
“From what we can tell, both by your uncle’s banking records and investigating his connections with American syndicates, there’s nothing new for us to question.
We’ve been aware of everything that’s happened within the last couple of years.
I planted some information to see if it might draw our Irish rivals out and make them contact him, but nothing’s been a go. ”
“Perhaps it’s one of our employees or colleagues’ partners, but I can’t think of anyone who I could tell you to suspect.”
Joaquin nods. “I’ll still investigate all of them. You never know who you might find during a game of leapfrog.”
A knock interrupts whatever Joaquin was going to say next. He’s slightly closer to the suite’s door, so he goes over and opens it. Where I’m sitting allows me to see there’s a package in the guard’s hands. I can’t believe we are going through this yet again.
What the fuck now?
I don’t want to look as he comes back to us.
Nausea washes over me, but I know I have to.
Joaquin looks at Jorge, who nods. Joaquin flips open the lid of the box and reaches inside.
I think I might vomit. Fortunately, he pulls out a sheet of paper before handing it to me and closing the box.
It’s in German, and I know Jorge is the only member of his family who speaks the language.
We hear everything just like we see everything.
So, it’s an ear. I can handle seeing that even though the thought turns my stomach over.
I reach for the box, but Jorge takes it instead.
He lifts the lid just enough for me to peek in.
But immediately I’m questioning whether that could be my father’s.
For starters, it looks too big to be his.
I push the lid back, and Jorge allows it to open all the way.
“Can I touch it?” I can’t believe I just uttered those words, but I need a closer look.
“Let me, chiquita.”
He glances toward his cousin and brother. I don’t understand the warning expression he shoots them. He pulls the ear out, letting it rest flat on his palm. He brings it as close to me as he dares.
“What’s that mark on the lobe? It looks like it could be a scarred piercing. Can you turn it over?”
I take the box from him, so he can use both hands. There’s definitely a corresponding mark on the back of the ear, so it could be the other healed hole. I look over at Alejandro and Joaquin before meeting Jorge’s gaze.
“My father’s never had a pierced ear. I don’t think this is his. Do you think they’re torturing someone else, or could this be from a cadaver or something?”
Jorge’s reluctant to answer that, but he shakes his head. “They might be torturing someone else, but since we don’t know who this is, I couldn’t say whether this is standard intimidation for them or just a one-off. It looks like it’s not as fresh as the hand.”
He clearly didn’t want to explain any of that to me, but I appreciate that he did. Maybe they cut this ear off Papa the very first day, or maybe this was somebody’s leftover corpse.
“Jorge, why would they send this and the pig’s eye with no new demands?
The million euros we supposedly transferred seems to have bought us time.
This is intimidating as much as it is revolting, but I’d think they’d want something from me.
We haven’t progressed past this idle waiting and periodic threats. ”
“It’s to keep you on edge, to wear you down through fear. That’d be when they make their demand. When you’re too emotionally exhausted to put up an argument. You’ll be so desperate to get your father back, you’ll agree to just about anything.”
“Is nowhere safe?” That desperation Jorge just mentioned feels like it’s about to take hold.
“We need to get Liesel somewhere else. It needs to be somewhere we can better control. There are too many variables here for us to know what everyone is up to.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
Alejandro pulls his phone out and steps over to the workspace.
His voice is low, so it’s just a soft murmur to me.
I can’t make out what he’s saying. Joaquin pulls out his laptop, and it’s only a couple minutes later that he’s turning it to show Jorge and me what appears to be phone logs.
The three of us move to the dining room table, and Jorge settles the laptop between us.