Chapter Nine
Raphael
Hector Chavez points at me, the motion slow and deliberate, like he’s marking me for inspection.
“You’ll need to leave the guns in here.” His hand rests on the doorknob of Antonio’s office, fingers curling around the metal with a casual authority that makes my skin itch.
“You, me, and your father will make the announcement. We’ll all appear to be happy. Just one big happy family.”
He opens the door, and the grin on his face is too wide, too sharp—like a predator showing teeth before the kill. “Let’s do this.”
Antonio and my brother Gabriel are going to wait downstairs to arm our men. My father follows Hector out into the hallway. I give Gabriel a small nod, the kind that says watch your back , and then all of us leave the office.
The night hits me when we step outside. Cool air, sharp with the scent of fall and something metallic underneath—maybe tension, maybe fear.
Torches flicker along the driveway, casting long shadows over the masked guests who chatter and murmur, oblivious to the undercurrent of danger threading through the crowd.
I follow the leaders of both families, my eyes scanning every mask, every flicker of movement.
Hector climbs onto the ledge of a fountain in front of his house, shoes scraping against the stone.
He raises a hand, waving theatrically at the partygoers.
The murmur of the crowd rises, then falters as my father steps up beside him.
The chatter dies almost instantly. Every guest knows something monumental is coming, even if they don’t know what it is yet.
Hector clears his throat, voice booming, reverberating across the courtyard.
“Tonight,” he begins, the words deliberate, measured, “is not just a celebration of Halloween. It is a joining—of families, of fortunes, and of futures. We stand together, united, stronger than we have ever been.” His eyes sweep the crowd, resting briefly on faces hidden behind masks.
“We’ve faced threats before, we’ve endured loss, but tonight we show the world that nothing can break us.
Not rivalries, not violence, not betrayal. Tonight, we are one.”
A ripple of forced applause spreads through the crowd. Masks turn slightly, curious eyes searching for any sign of weakness.
Salvador clears his throat. His tone is smooth, carrying a practiced weight.
“Hector is right,” he says, glancing briefly at me.
“We are bound by more than tradition tonight. We are bound by the promise that our families will protect each other. That we will stand together in the face of any threat.” He pauses, letting the words settle like a stone dropped in a pond.
“And let no one mistake this celebration for weakness. Power respects power, and tonight, we remind everyone who we are.”
I glance up at him, then at Hector, and finally back at the crowd. The tension hangs thick, almost tasting it on my tongue. Stepping slightly forward, I project my voice so the crowd can hear every word.
“We are stronger than any outsider who thinks they can divide us,” I say.
“And make no mistake—those who threaten our families will learn that loyalty and blood run deeper than fear. Tonight, we celebrate unity.” I pause, letting my eyes sweep over the masks, the shadows flickering in the torchlight.
“Tonight, Sophia Chavez and I will wed, and all of you will bear witness to the Chavez and Costa families becoming one.”
A low murmur runs through the crowd. Masks shift, heads tilt, eyes flick behind painted smiles. Everyone’s watching. Everyone’s measuring. Some clap—tentative, testing the air. Others stare, frozen.
Downstairs, I know Antonio and Gabriel are waiting in the basement, ready to arm the men when they arrive. Upstairs, Sophia’s behind closed doors, getting into her dress, preparing to play the part.
Hector clears his throat, voice rough and loud. “Tonight,” he says, “we witness history! Two families, bound together by respect and loyalty!” He grins at the crowd.
Salvador eyes sweep the courtyard as he nods in agreement.
The crowd shifts again. Whispers spike like gunfire, slicing through the murmur.
Applause starts slow. A few claps at first, cautious, testing the ground. Then more join in, louder, filling the courtyard.
My father’s hand lands on my shoulder. “To the Chavez and Costa families, may this be the first of many celebrations, and may this herald a legacy of peace!”
The crowd erupts. Cheers, applause, raised glasses. Some nod at me, some smile behind their masks.
My father and Hector climb down, shaking hands with a few of their closest allies, leaving me to move through a cluster of men loyal to my family. They crowd around me, slapping backs, gripping shoulders, offering congratulations with grins.
Carlo is the nearest. I’ve known him a long time—long enough to trust him with my life.
“You kept this quiet,” he says, grinning.
“There’s another surprise for you,” I reply, my voice low and sharp. “I want you and one other to go over to Hector Chavez. Offer him congratulations. Then I want you to take two of his men with you into the house and down into the basement.”
Carlo steps back, frowning, brow furrowed. “Why?”
“No questions, my friend. Do it now,” I order, letting my authority fill the space between us. There’s no room for hesitation. Not tonight. Not when the wrong move could get someone killed.
Carlo nods, taps the man behind him on the shoulder and together they head toward Hector.
My father stands next to me. “Gentlemen, my son needs a moment to prepare for his bride. Give him some space. This will be one Halloween we’re never going to forget.”
Laughter and cheers ripple through the crowd as he guides me through it, through the masks and shadows, and into Hector Chavez’s office. The room is empty—surprisingly so.
“You understand why this has to happen?” he asks, eyes sharp.
“I do.”
“You understand why you weren’t brought in on the conversation?”
“I do not.”
Dad’s jaw tightens. “You’ve been obsessing over some woman you met last year. And I know you. Once you set your heart on something, no one can change your course. When Hector approached me with this idea, I knew—in the depths of my soul—that it was the right move for our family.”
“You couldn’t have explained it to me?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Sophia is beautiful. She’ll make a fine bride.”
I let the words settle, unspoken weight pressing in from all sides. “Yes,” I say, low. “She will.”
And I mean it.