Chapter 18
Alma
PRESENT
Houston, Texas
Let me tell you something about narcissists. The best ones are usually some of the sexiest men you’ll ever meet. They know how to charm people, and that’s what makes it difficult when you try telling people they’re evil.
Case in point, Efren holding a tiny baby in his arms while cooing in his face. Charming as hell. My ovaries tighten, and I have to focus on something else. Anything else.
“He’s so good with babies,” Mireya exclaims. I can’t help but roll my eyes.
So what if PJ likes him? Probably the only person alive that thinks he’s funny, or for all we know he’s probably only smiling ‘cause he has gas. I watch the four month old grab onto Efren’s chain, staring up as he stares down at him.
“Damn y’all really hate each other that much?” Adrian laughs. I realize everyone is looking at me while I glare at Efren.
“Hate is a strong word,” Efren says, still looking down at the baby and smiling.
“Not strong enough,” I reply
Why does this asshole have to be in my close group of friends?
The Consuelos are celebrating another year of Vicente Consuelo’s life.
I genuinely look forward to these events.
It’s my favorite part about being friends with rich people.
The finesse is shining all around me, from designer name dresses and the luxury cars stopping at the valet, to the open bar I’m heading straight towards.
“Hey, Alma. I didn’t know you’d be here,” a familiar female voice says. I look to see Shawny, a redheaded maid who works with me.
“Hey girl! I didn’t know you bartended.” I observe.
“Just a side gig.” She shrugs. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll take whatever they’re drinking.” I nod to the couple at the end of the bar.
“The mangonadas the Zamoras are drinking?” she asks, her eyes narrowing on me.
“Sure, I guess, I’m not really familiar with anyone here. Thalia Consuelo is my homegirl and invites me to these things,” I confess.
A small laugh falls from Shawny’s lips before she turns to the blender behind her. I really don’t have the slightest fuck who half of these people are.
“Your mangonada.” Shawny sets the drink in front of me.
It’s sweet, but I can taste the liquor mixed in as well. My eyes wander back to the table where Efren is returning a sleeping PJ back to Mireya.
Goddamn.
He looks amazing. Something about the vintage suit he’s wearing makes him stand out in a crowd.
The suit is similar to a zoot suit with more modern flair.
There are no pin stripes, nor a ruinously long hat, but the lapels are still wider and the trousers’ high waisted.
The pants do amazing things for his…oh god.
Santa Madre María. Why am I looking at his—
“Whose that?” Shawny asks. I revert my eyes back to her.
“Um. I don’t know.” I take another sip in hopes I don’t think about what happened days priors. The way his fingers felt better than anything. The way his words still linger on my skin.
“You like this, Kitten. You like the way my fingers are tearing through you. Tell me how much you like it.”
I didn’t just like it. I loved every minute of it.
“He’s definitely something to look at.” She interrupts my thoughts. I can’t help notice the way her eyes roam over him.
My face scrunches. She’s not his type. I don’t necessarily know his type, but Shawny isn’t it.
She pours another drink and takes it to the end of the bar.
The man there is familiar, his face one a woman would never forget.
Shawny attempts to flirt with him, but his expression remains neutral as he drops a fifty-dollar tip and walks away.
“Is that Axel Reyes?” I whisper when she’s back at my end of the bar.
“No. That’s his hot twin brother, Adan.”
“God, they’re gorgeous.” I sigh.
I’d had a slight crush on Axel Reyes. Tried like hell to get Thalia to set us up, but he was never interested enough to stay in contact with me.
“And that’s their bitch sister, Ariella,” Shawny says, her hate-filled eyes landing on Ariella Reyes.
Ariella is Thalia’s younger cousin and Axel and Adan’s little sister. I don’t know her other than the times she’s tagged along with Thalia, but I can’t see her having problems with anyone.
“She looks so sweet and innocent, but you should see her.” Shawny huffs. “What do you think her brothers would do if they knew how she was throwing herself at every man who walked into Los Peregrinos bar.”
“Los Peregrinos?”
“Ya, most of the security guards working tonight are actually all members of Los Peregrinos Motorcycle Gang. And get this, apparently Patricio Consuelo contracts them. The entire family is involved in some shady shit.”
My mouth drops like I’m shocked, but I’m not. You’d have to be stupid to be friends with someone as long as I’ve been friends with Thalia and not know the business her family dabbles in. I order two more drinks and sit at the bar before making my way back to our table.
Thalia dances with Silas, Mireya and Adrian are deep into some conversation, and Efren is staring directly through me. My face flushes red, maybe from too many mangonadas. Laughter breaks the tension, and I turn to see Thalia making her way towards us, her arm wrapped around Ariella.
“Hola. ?Como estan? Hola mi precioso,” Ariella says, greeting Adrian, Mireya, and giving baby PJ a kiss.
She looks to the bar and then back to the three empty seats separating Efren and I.
“Efren! I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaims.
Efren smiles at her and then looks at me. Ariella picks up on the tension, turning to face me.
“Oh. Am I? Are you two—” She looks between Efren and I.
“We’re nothing,” Efren replies, motioning her to take the seat next to him.
Ariella stalls, looking at me, and I’m too consumed with rage to say anything other than, “I don’t even know the guy.”
Efren glares at me. Another silent war. He knows I was lying the other night. I never loved Esteban, but that’s never changed the conflicting feelings I have about Efren. It wasn’t right.
“Ari, come, sit down!” Efren says.
Mireya gives me a concerning look while Thalia is caught up trying to keep Adrian and Silas from killing each other with stare downs.
“What do you know about Ariella Reyes?” I ask Mireya, knowing she’ll give me the whole run down.
She quickly looks at them and back at me.
“Not much. She’s really sweet. Usually at family things, she sticks with her friend Genesis, um, Lucia is obsessed with her, and she’s really good with kids, oh and she has a dog, a really ugly dog.”
“What are they doing?” I whisper to Mireya, trying to avoid looking at Ariella and Efren.
“He just got them drinks.” Mireyas says looking up.
“What do you think Axel would say about this?” I ask through clenched teeth. Both Axel and Adan are extremely controlling when it comes to their little sister.
“I wouldn’t get involved, Alma. Thalia’s really protective over Ari.”
“Well I heard something from a source about her being with a whole biker gang.”
Mireya’s eyebrows shoot up. Maybe I’ve been drinking too much—it’s definitely out of my character to believe something Shawny said. But what if she was right? What if he brings Ariella back to our penthouse? What if I have to hear them fucking?
I look up to see him leading Ariella to the dance floor. She’s wearing a sparkling pink gown with a heart shaped halter that pushes her boobs up. I hate that she’s the best dressed in the room, making me and everyone else look like the people of Walmart.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t feel anything, but there it is.
Something sharp and sour twists low in my belly. They dance and laugh. And dance and laugh. She touches his arm, just a light brush, and says something that makes his grin stretch wider. I hate the way it makes me feel.
And suddenly, I hate her.
Her perfect laugh. Her fake blonde hair. Her confidence, all effortless and loud, like she’s never had to fight for attention a day in her life. I clench my jaw so hard it hurts, trying to focus on anything else.
It’s this newfound hatred that has me peering over the bar, looking for the only person I know I could use to my advantage. Asking random guests and staff about Axel’s whereabouts gets me nowhere. But the children’s table is a different story.
“Have you seen Axel?” I ask Thalia’s daughter, Lucia.
She answers with an exaggerated sigh and shrug of her shoulders. Next to her is a Chihuahua that she’s spoon feeding. Or at least, I think it’s a chihuahua. Its maimed hair makes me question if it’s in some type of immediate danger here, but I have to stay focused on my mission.
“I know where he’s at,” a girl with a tortilla stuck to her face says. Her brown eyes peer through her creative mask, and her curly hair falls around her face.
“You’re not supposed to tell, Kamila,” Lucia says, annoyed.
“Pinche chismosa,” the boy next to her mutters.
I watch how the little girl, Kamila’s, face falls and something in my heart breaks for her.
“Kamila, I promise, I have something really important to tell Axel. You would be helping me, and that would make you a good person.”
“Like my sister Nessy?”
“Sure,” I say, laying it on thick.
I’m not sure who Nessy is, but time is of the essence.
I don’t want to get the little girl in trouble, but I also need to find Axel.
Kamila looks to the table and checks on both Lucia and the little boy before she motions me closer.
She leans in, cupping her tiny hand around her mouth, and whispers in my ear.
“He’s in the cigar room.”
I’ve never been inside the cigar room before, but I’ve seen glimpses through the cracked door while cleaning. I take the steps on the far end of the ball room, one of many different escape features found in Calavera Hotels.
I climb the steps and push through the glass doors, the strong scent of tobacco mixed with cologne hitting me hard. The walls are covered in dark paneling, tiny gold iridescent skulls appearing with a flicker of the amber light. Oversized velvet sofas are arranged throughout the room.
I spot Axel immediately, a woman sitting on his lap while more surround him, circling him like sharks, but it’s them desperate to be devoured. I see the tattoo over his eyebrow. Desmadroso. And that he is—chaotic and ruthless.
My body fights me to turn around and leave, but I move forward anyway. Frozen when he looks up, I can see his eyes blaze through me.
“Hi.” My voice trembles.
Hi? Really, Alma?
His brow arches, a cigar in one hand, his other slowly grazing the ass of the girl sitting on his lap.
“There’s something downstairs that needs your attention,” I say.
“Well tell something that my attention is already focused on other things.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy shooing motion like I’m some type of insect disrupting him.
Fucking asshole.
I lean down to meet his glare and grab the glass of liquor off the table, drinking it down. He watches me, his brow arching, and I slam the empty glass down.
“Your sister’s down there dancing with Adrian’s friend, and by the looks of it, he’s moments away from having her look like one of your lovely friends here.” My eyes shoot to the girl to the left running her tounge up his ear.
He stands abruptly, pushing the girl off him and buttoning his suit. He flies down the stairs so fast I can barely keep up. Before I make it out the door, Axel is already dragging Ariella off the dance floor.
Efren looks at me, his eyes turning cold, and my heart accelerates.
I look away, but my eye catches on the pistol sticking out of Patricio Consuelo’s back waistband.
A memory slips from my mind. It’s as if I can hear the shots fired and more of the memory unfolds.
This time I watch the bullet hit Esteban in the chest. I drop to my knees and hold him into me and scream.
“You woke up, you heard a noise, and then you found him like this. Do you understand me?” Efren is standing over me cleaning a gun, and then he sticks it into his waistband.