Chapter 4 #2
“And I assume the news about my advancement will leak as well.” I had bitterness in my tone.
“Likely, ma’am. You’re an unknown, so be prepared. There could be those who try and feel you out.”
“Meaning what I’m willing to do. They’ll attempt to coerce me into giving them what rightfully belongs to me.” I laughed, although there was nothing funny.
“Yes,” Emiliano answered for him. “After that, violence will begin.”
Violence.
“I’m a trained negotiator, gentlemen. We shall see what happens.”
“Remember, Genevieve, the men involved in these organizations are all animals.” Antonio used my first name. On this night, I’d let it slide. Only on this night.
At least his statement was a decent reminder.
They were all animals and I was the fresh prey in town.
Time to bring out my claws.
As I stared at the fountain, praying for answers and for strength, I wondered if the girl craving to be in her father’s arms could become a ruthless leader.
Sleep had been impossible. Every time I’d closed my eyes, a vision of my father’s bullet-ridden body invaded my mind.
It felt as if my skin was stained by his blood even though I’d taken a long, hot shower, scrubbing every inch of my skin until it was almost raw.
Even so, a second shower was necessary for me to feel clean.
If that was even possible.
“What are we going to do, sissy?” Bella asked. She remained nestled in my arms, both of us unable to sleep. I’d heard her intense sobs and they’d nearly broken me.
The wind had increased, tossing branches against the window outside her bedroom. She was far too young to understand. She’d also been too young to remember when our mother had been killed.
The horrible tragedy years before was something everyone in the family had tried to forget, but the memories regarding that day had come rushing back. Her death had been a direct warning, a pushback against my father and his advancement into territories that didn’t belong to him.
Since our mother’s murder, he’d taken a more cautious approach, which up until now had quieted the tyrants waiting in the shadows. Why now? Why had my father been suddenly murdered?
I pulled away and gripped her shoulders. “You’re going to get a shower and go downstairs and have some breakfast. Take the day to rest, but after that, we need to think about the future. I’ll be here. That much I can promise.”
“What future?”
“Don’t think that way, Bella. You have your entire life ahead of you.”
“Don’t die on me, sissy. I don’t have anyone else.”
Her quick sob almost broke my heart once again. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I squeezed her arms and nodded toward the door. While her steps were slow, she followed my directions. She was estranged from her brother and barely knew her sister any longer.
A single tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away furiously. Not a single additional tear could be shed.
Not one.
I was required to be a tyrant, a true leader. Someone without a moral compass.
It was time to look the part. That much I could do with ease.
I headed toward my bedroom, thankful a bathroom was attached. While I showered, I made mental notes about what information I’d need provided. There were so many details, including planning the funeral, the event typically more of a celebration than anything else.
Funerals were usually the single event that was considered hallowed ground, acts of violence not allowed. Somehow, I doubted that unwritten rules would apply. There was too much at stake.
When I was dressed, I stood in front of my dresser mirror, studying my reflection. My cheeks appeared gaunt, my eyes full of hatred. I’d chosen a black pantsuit instead of wearing a skirt or more casual attire on purpose. Today was the day I’d make my first statement.
No one could question my authority without facing harsh consequences.
Another wave of sadness hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t cut out for this. On the last night in New York, I’d partied with my friends, going out to a favorite club and dancing until well after one in the morning. We’d laughed. We’d become intoxicated. I’d promised they could come visit.
All that had been a pipe dream.
What was left was being forced to pick up the pieces.
Almost as soon as I walked from the room, I was confronted by Marco. Wearing dark jeans and a tight muscle tee shirt, he’d slicked back his hair, his combat boots and sheathed knife worn on his side completing the ridiculous outfit.
Only he looked just like almost every other soldier. He wanted to be like them more than anything, including grieving his own father’s death.
After giving me a hard look, he tried to walk by. I grabbed his arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m training today and you can’t stop me.”
I walked closer. In my heels, we stood eye to eye. When I’d left for America, he’d been over a foot shorter and at least fifty pounds lighter. It was obvious he’d worked hard to become a carbon copy of our father, a worthy soldier.
“While I won’t stop you from training, I will prevent you from joining the army.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I’m your sister and your guardian. I can and I will.”
His sneer was something I’d remember. “You stopped being my sister the day you left us. And I’ll be eighteen soon and you won’t have a say in any aspect of my life.”
I was shocked at the level of hurt in his voice and the sadness in his eyes. But as soon as he let his guard down, the shield went back up. The thick armor terrified me almost as much as the damning situation. My brother had no true understanding of the life he so desperately wanted to live.
He didn’t allow me time to refute his statement or offer any comfort, storming away as he’d done the night before. His heavy footsteps on the stairs were just another stark reminder he would soon be an adult.
My chest remained tight as I headed down the stairs. Almost immediately, Antonio closed the distance. In his hand was an envelope.
“This was just delivered for you, Madame Morales.”
As soon as I accepted it, he started to turn away.
“This is a terrible situation, Antonio, a horrible tragedy, but we can be friends.”
He didn’t bother turning to face me again, but his statement resonated in the darkest recesses of my mind. “The sooner you learn there is no room for friendship in this business, the better off you’ll be. Trusting anyone can get you killed.”
I watched as he headed for the front door. My father had tried to keep his three children protected from the ugliness, but I’d learned early on remaining in the dark was dangerous. Perhaps that’s why I’d accepted the role as abogada .
Several hitmen remained just inside the residence, their presence unnerving. I returned to my father’s office and his scent immediately hit me. Every piece of furniture and every work of art on the walls reminded me of him. The ache remained, but instead of sadness, I felt rage.
I tore open the envelope just as Emiliano walked into the room.
“What is it?” he asked after I’d had an opportunity to read the enclosed card.
“An invitation.”
“From?”
“Jago Torres.”
“The brutal drug lord of the Torres Empire. What does he want?” His snarl meant Jago was someone I’d need to watch out for.
“A meeting. To talk terms on our continued peace.”
Emiliano exhaled. “And so it begins. What do you want to do?”
“What do you know about him?” He’d kept up with the business even while living in New York.
“What I know is that he’s considered a monster, a vicious leader with zero conscience.”
The glint of early morning sun splashed across a photograph on my father’s credenza.
I moved closer, hesitating as if by some sense of reverence before lifting the heavy frame.
Five smiling faces stared back at me. Mama with Bella on her hip, Marco trying to stand as tall as possible next to our father, and me crouched on one knee, my long arms outstretched.
It was as if I was welcoming the world to our little family.
We’d been happy, finally going on the vacation my mother had bugged Papa about for months. He’d always been too busy. The ache in my stomach swelled.
Less than two months after it was taken, my entire world had shattered.
There were no recent pictures. After the tragedy with our mother, our father had refused to allow our photographs to be taken in public.
We’d gone to private schools or been homeschooled.
We’d had few friends and never attended banquets or balls.
Even in privacy he’d opted to forgo portraying the happiness experienced inside the household.
It was just another weakness to be used by an enemy.
“Daddy, I love you. I’ll do everything I can to make you proud.”
Very gently I eased the picture back to its original position, rubbing a single finger across the top of the frame before answering.
“Why not see what this brutal leader has to offer? Make the arrangements. Tonight. Seven p.m. There will be no other time allowed and I will go to him. Is that understood, Emiliano?”
When he didn’t answer right away, I turned all the way around to face him.
If my commander had any weakness, it was his inability to mask his emotions. He was surprised as well as concerned, but he’d known me long enough to know when my mind couldn’t be changed.
“I’ll see what I can do.”