Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Lo
Now it was just the three of them. Lo couldn’t let herself think.
Not fully. She couldn’t give herself time to regret punishing Mayté.
Nothing mattered. Not until she destroyed the house.
“Show me, how did the Banker and Misterioso come to be in their positions?” This time her command wasn’t directed at a living person, but the house itself.
A mirrored wall changed, the reflection shifting to the Banker standing in front of a pool.
The same one she’d washed in. He looked different.
His long black hair hung freely, and his dark suit was much less flashy than what he wore to the games, but the most striking part was his face.
Dark circles hung under his eyes and his expression held a sense of devastation.
He stepped into the water, clothes and all. When he emerged, he looked sure and refreshed. The familiar smirk played on his lips.
The reflection shifted again, revealing a man running through the house as it rumbled.
Dozens of alebrijes, creatures of all shapes and sizes, pursued him.
He ducked away as claws and tusks jutted out, trying to gut him.
The floor beneath him opened, and he jumped.
He landed in the pool room and for a moment was submerged in the waters.
He emerged from them and frantically knocked over a table full of trinkets.
A mask lay among them. He snatched it and put it on, before turning back to face the alebrijes.
One by one, they vanished. The man grinned, revealing deep-set dimples. Misterioso.
It all clicked together like beans being placed on a Lotería board.
She’d wanted to destroy the house—commanded it to show her how.
The house led her to the same pool. Which she had bathed in, and now she was powerful. Just as powerful, she sensed, as the two men before her.
She reached up and adjusted the crown on her head. No wonder they both seemed so skittish.
“Which one of you two is in charge?” she asked.
“Neither,” the Banker said.
Interesting.
“Very well.” She pointed to the Banker. “You will take me to the one in charge.” The elevator doors opened, but before Lo and the Banker could step out, Misterioso blocked the way.
“No! Enough!” He flinched as if the words themselves pained him. He was resisting her orders. Just barely, but it was still enough for him to corner her against the wall.
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped just as he reached for her.
His arms shook and he grunted, fighting against himself.
“Oh, Misterioso.” She stroked the side of his mask before sneering. “Don’t make me rip off your mask. We both know what happens if I do.” For some reason, the house had wanted him dead, yet now it couldn’t recognize him from behind the mask.
That was enough to get him to stumble back, hands up in surrender.
Lo hooked arms with the Banker. “Now, shall we?”
Silently, as if defeated, Banker led her into another elevator.
They soon reached the familiar hallway with the red door at the end.
It wasn’t a surprise that the main Gamemaker would reside on this mysterious floor.
The Banker stared straight ahead, face full of concern.
It was quite amusing to see him finally squirm. “Lorena, what have you done?”
“I made myself like you.”
The way he recoiled amused her. “What’s the matter? Don’t want to share the power of the house?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Why didn’t you come to my chambers like I asked?” He spoke almost frantically.
“Don’t worry.” She patted his arm, feeling him shiver. “I won’t hurt you as long as you do as I say. Tell me your name.”
His eyes widened.
She simply grinned at him.
When he had the upper hand, he’d held on to his name as if it were some kind of prize. Lo wanted it. “Tell me.”
He sighed. “Miguel.”
“Miguel,” she repeated in amusement. “Miguel ángel?” The archangel’s name was incredibly popular in Milagro.
“Yes, but I’m no angel. I go only by Miguel now.”
“I suppose we have more in common than you thought.” She stroked his cheek. He flinched. “I thought this was a game to you. Is it no longer fun? Now will you take me more seriously, Miguel?”
“Is this what you really want?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “Why are you even questioning me, Senor Gamemaker? You have what you want, don’t you?”
“No,” he croaked.
“What exactly happened with your precious little Ana Lùcia? Tell me.”
His face pinched. “She … became a Gamemaker …” He spat out the words as if they burned his mouth. They stopped in front of a door. “Please, you don’t want to do this!”
“Wait a moment.” Lo giggled. “Your beloved became a Gamemaker? Oh! I understand. She must be the one in charge here. You don’t want me to destroy her.”
“Lorena—”
“Well, that’s just too bad.” She pushed past him and flung the door open, revealing a suite fit for a king.
Hundreds—no, thousands of candles illuminated the room.
Golden flames clashed with the silver moonlight leaking through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Everything looked as if it had been dipped in gold and sprinkled with crushed diamonds.
The glittery glass floor, the plush furniture, the fur rugs, and the velvet curtains.
The back wall was pure gold with different gems poking out.
Bloodred rubies, fiery amber, tearstained aquamarine, along with glittering opals and diamonds.
Sitting in the center of the shining extravagance was a woman sipping wine.
It wasn’t Ana Lùcia.
Bouncy brown curls framed her beautiful bronze face. Inquisitive eyes stared at Lo. Familiar ones.
“Lorena,” she sighed.
The room’s glittering opulence became dizzying. Lo’s legs almost gave out on her. This was another trick of the house, or her broken mind had finally turned against her.
It was Mamá.
She wore a tailored suit, a marigold at her lapel.
“Hija.” Mamá set aside the wine and slowly stood.
Dios, this was real. It really was Mamá.
“You’re … alive!” Lo choked. The joy coursing through her was almost too much to handle. She knew it. Everyone else had been wrong. She rushed to Mamá to hug her, but her mind caught up with her heart.
Mamá was safe. She wasn’t tied up or hurt. Her eyes weren’t bloodshot after endlessly crying. There was no villain holding her captive. In fact, it looked like she had been living like a queen.
Lo stopped in front of her. Strange—they were the same height. Lo no longer had to look up to meet her eyes.
Just like the illusion created by La Dama, Mamá hadn’t aged a day since she left, but there was something different about her.
Her eyes lacked their warm sparkle. No matter how terrible her father was, no matter how loudly he screamed at her or how vile his threats, Mamá could always pull herself together with a playful wink and sweet smile for her daughters. But now she stared blankly, calm and cool.
“I thought you were dead … La Dama—”
“I know,” Mamá said. “Everyone else was convinced of my demise. You have a much stronger will. While it’s admirable, some things are better kept secret.” She sat back down. “Now, please, sit. Your feet must be hurting.”
She remembered. As a child, Lo had complained of her achy feet whenever she had to walk for a long time. Her father would snarl at her to stop complaining, but Mamá would pick her up and carry her the rest of the way.
Lo shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll stand.”
Mamá’s eyebrows twisted, but she looked more amused than hurt.
“What happened to you?”
“I could ask you the same, Lorena. I see you’ve found your way to the heart of Fortune’s Kiss.”
Lo stared. How did she—
“It was a little premature. Though it is fortunate that you discovered it on your own,” Mamá continued. “If someone had led you there, that would have been cheating. Cheaters can’t win. Their souls are consumed by the house once the game ends.”
Lo shook her head. “What?”
“You’ll see soon enough. Mayté is cheating with one of my croupiers. It’s a shame, too. I was beginning to grow fond of Alejandro. I had such high hopes for him.”
Lo’s heart pounded wildly. She backed away. There was too much to process.
“Though Misterioso may get to them first. He’s the only one who loathes cheating more than the house itself.”
“What? No!” Lo snapped. She had to think. She still had her crown. “I order you not to let that happen!”
“Oh, my!” Mamá chuckled and stood. With an icy smile, she smacked the crown off Lo’s head.
It landed with a thud and vanished into smoke.
“That won’t work with me. But don’t fret,” she cooed as if consoling a small child.
“Perhaps Alejandro will die first. Since Mayté never asked him to cheat with her, the house may consider his death fair payment and spare her.”
The room spun. Lo couldn’t breathe. She was the one who had told Mayté to talk to Alejandro in the first place.
Mamá studied her with uncaring amusement.
For years, all Lo had ever wanted was a reunion with Mamá. Now … who was this person?
“You won the game, didn’t you?” It hadn’t quite sunk in until now. She had asked Miguel to lead her to the one in charge. Mamá was the one in charge.
Lo knew it was true, yet terror filled her veins when Mamá simply nodded.
“Why didn’t you come home?” Lo asked. It was the most she could muster without breaking.
Mamá simply smiled. “There was more for me here.”
Lo’s heart stopped. In the end, her mother had simply abandoned her. Her father was right. And Lo had refused to believe that it was even a possibility.
“I had my reasons, Lorena. Your father’s wealth kept you and your sisters safe and comfortable. If he had gotten anywhere near me, he would’ve likely killed—”
“He’s dead,” Lo blurted. “I did it myself.”
“I know. When we measured your soul, we saw everything.”
Lo bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say. None of it made sense. “Do you know how terrible things have been for us? He brainwashed Sera and Sofía. They think that his cruelty is love. And me? He wanted to marry me off to a man just like him?”
“Who?” Mamá asked as if it was all harmless gossip.
“Juan Felipe Garcia,” Lo spat.
“Ah.” She crossed her legs. “He was a vile child. Spoiled, always getting what he wanted. His mother told me he would erupt into tantrums and bite her until she bled. It’s no surprise he grew up to be a pig.”
“Mamá,” Lo snapped in disbelief. “Father hurt me. Before I killed him, he became wild. He threatened me. I didn’t know what he would do.” An angry sob tore past her throat. “That’s what you left me with.”
“But you’re here now. And you’re doing quite well at the games. You may even win.”
Lo backed away. May? She couldn’t believe her ears. Mamá was the person in charge of this el infierno.
Lo backed into a shelf, causing the contents to topple over. A skull mask and a black veil caught her eye. The same one that Pearla wore during sudden death. “Y-you’re …”
“Yes.” Mamá sighed. “I had to make sure you knew I was gone, because I’m no longer the woman you knew.”
“You’re right,” Lo rasped. “That woman would have done anything to protect her daughters.”
“Ah, but I have done so much for you from the moment you arrived, Lorena. I asked Miguel to look out for you. I added an extra contestant to the game so Mayté could compete with you. I even made sure you and Mayté got to sleep in the finest suite.”
Lo felt numb. It all made sense. But: “You … you still promised to return, and you didn’t.”
“I had every intention of returning. But once I was given the choice, I didn’t want to leave Fortune’s Kiss. It became … everything to me.”
Each of her words was like a venomous barb latching on to her heart.
Lo had come here for her Mamá. This woman wasn’t her. Not anymore.
There was nothing left here to fight for.
Nothing worth saving.
And then a small voice inside her whispered, “Except Mayté.”
Mayté.
The red haze that had surrounded her every thought began to dissipate, and for a moment everything became clear as a cloudless morning.
Without another word, Lo ran from the room. Take me to Mayté. Take me straight to her. But the house wasn’t leading her in any particular direction. Was her power gone? Had her mother removed it?
She lifted her skirts and sprinted to the elevator. She kept smacking the button until the doors opened. She had to find Mayté before it was too late.
The elevator descended, but not fast enough. Soon Lo heard muffled shouts.
“Stop! Don’t hurt her! It’s me you want! STOP!”
The doors opened and Lo stumbled into the gaming den. A crowd of croupiers surrounded a table.
“Stop!” Alejandro yelled, as other croupiers held him back. His makeup was smeared and his left eye bruised and swollen. Blood dribbled down his busted lip. His wide eyes were trained on something across the room.
Lo’s heart almost stopped.
Misterioso had Mayté by the neck, pinned against the main table. “You’ve made enough of a mockery of my game!” he snarled. “And now that you’ve cheated, the house won’t care what I do to you!”
Lo’s vision flashed red. “STOP!”
“L-Lo,” Mayté whimpered.
“Cheaters cannot win,” Misterioso hissed. “Either I deal with them or the house will.”
He was right. Lo’s mother had said as much.
But there was a way out.
Alejandro met Lo’s eyes. He knew it, too: the one way they could give Mayté a chance to survive.
“Please,” he said quietly. “I’m begging you.” He lowered his head.
Lo knew exactly what Alejandro was asking. She knew what she had to do.
She strode toward him.
“Lo?” Mayté whimpered.
“Lo? What are you—?” Carlos. He was being restrained at another table. Dominic was with him. “Stop!”
Lo couldn’t feel her own heart pounding anymore. Maybe it was gone. Destroyed.
She pulled the letter opener out of her bodice.
It had to be done. Lo believed her mother. It was her house, after all.
This was the only way.
Lo plunged the letter opener deep into Alejandro’s heart.