Chapter 14-Fortitude #2
He presented her with a green square box, which she recognized from Las Tierras.
In it were emeralds. Her hands shook as she opened the box to see the stunning emerald necklace, bracelet, earrings, and a princess-cut ring.
She gasped as she looked at the items handcrafted by the jeweler at Las Tierras.
“These are stunning,” she said. “I will take care to return these to the Lady of the Lands when we return to Las Tierras.”
“Alita, these are yours,” Micah said. “I had them crafted for your birthday, but they weren't ready, and so much was happening. Will you honor me by wearing these tonight? They are from my portion of the family mine.”
“Yes, I will,” she said, turning and lifting her hair for him to place the necklace on her. He then added the bracelet, and she placed the earrings. Alita went to place the ring on her right hand, but he slapped her fingers, placing the ring on her left.
“Boss?”
“Hush up, we're going to be late to this meat parade,” Micah said, sighing deeply.
She reached for his hands, taking them into her own. “You say the word, I move. I have your back.”
“You had my front too, and we haven't discussed that at all,” Micah said.
“Nothing to discuss. You needed it, and so did I,” Alita said. “We learned a couple of things about each other, and we moved forward. Let's get through the night and meet your potential matches.”
“I want to go home,” Micah said. “All I want is to go home to my lab and my beautiful horse Molecule, who actually likes me, versus that cranky ass stallion Isotope that attempts to bite me every chance he gets. I don't like that fucker.”
Isotope, an Argentine Criollo stallion, didn’t move like Molecule—less precision, more instinct—but he covered ground like he was built for it. Like nothing in the world could outlast him. However, the horse was mean and it unnerved him at times sitting astride the animal.
“Perhaps Isotope can sense your hostility,” she told him. “Let's recenter before you meet your matches so they can't feel your resentment as well, Boss. Fortitude is required.”
She said it once. She said it twice. At the base of the grand staircase, she repeated herself, and it didn't mean a damned thing to Micah.
He was knee deep in his emotions and before the receiving line was over, he was already sniping at people.
Alita even apologized to Zoe van Dijk even though she was uncertain if the girl understood a word she said.
Zoe made a beeline for Micah once the receiving line ended and held a glass of champagne in her hand. She offered him a bold smile, attempting to start a conversation with him. The broken English she spoke irritated him to start.
“Senorita van Dijk, do you speak any Spanish?” he asked.
“No, my English. I work on. Each day I work on my English,” she told him.
“Your native language is Dutch?”
“No, in Sranan Tongo, we speak Dutch in formal settings,” she said, batting her lashes at him.
“Is something in your eye?” he asked, trying to determine if she was looking at him or the wall.
“No, I flirt with you.”
“Stop it,” he said, scowling at her, staring at the one eye that didn’t seem to focus on anything in particular, just frozen, then moving slightly, then freezing and nudging to the left in the orbit.
The eye reminded him of a spy camera he had spotted in a militia store in Buenos Aires. “Are you willing to learn Spanish?”
“Why?” she asked, attempting to flirt with him again, the lazy eye aiming towards his crotch.
“Good grief, stop talking to me,” he said, walking away. Many of the eyes in the room were on him as he grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down. He'd barely set it down when candidate number two made her move.
Rosa Benitez, the cousin of Irena Villareal of Paraguay, couldn't wait to get close to Micah. She approached him, her hips forward, as if she were offering him a ride on the fun train.
“Damn, you sure are fine,” Rosa said in a low tone. “I was told you were special needs or some shit. You look healthy to me.”
He didn't blink as he stared at her. “Senorita Benitez, what may I ask are your hobbies in your free time?”
“Shopping. I have a big TikTok following on my weight loss journey and how to use GLP1s,” Rosa said.
An eyebrow arched as he pressed his thumb into his palm behind his back, trying to stay centered. “What do you know about coffee?”
“I like to drink it with lots of sugar and cream,” Rosa said, smiling at him.
“My life is in Colombia, not here,” he told her.
“What? You mean to tell me if I marry you, I don't get to live here, but on that cocaine farm in Colombia. Oh nope. Nope. Nada for me,” she said, walking away.
Micah's eyes searched the room, finding Alita nearby. He shook his head no and looked at the stairs. She shook her head no and looked at the last candidate, Sofia Rossi, who didn't make the move towards Micah. The young woman made eye contact with him, and to her surprise, Micah went to her.
“Senorita Rossi, it is a pleasure,” he said, accepting her hand, bending over it.
“Finally, we meet Micah Delgado,” she said softly. “Tough night for you.”
“Understatement,” he said. “Now that you see me in person, are you ready to bolt for the hills, considering the past four years of your life have been geared towards me. Did you have time during your schooling to focus on the things you enjoy in your down time?”
“Not really,” she said softly, raising her hand for the young man with the canapes to come over. “I know more about chemistry and bugs and which oils kill pestering bugs than I could use currently, but I am told this will be helpful in your research.”
“This is true, but my question is, where does your true interest lie? I mean, you know what my life will be, and it won't necessarily be here,” he told her. “I much prefer the quiet life on the farm and being in my lab.”
“I will adjust, plus the children will keep me busy,” she said.
He pulled back, up righting himself as if he’d received a slight shock. “Wait, what children? How many children?”
“As many as we can afford or my body shall give you,” she told him.
“And your education?” he asked, his head slightly cocked as if he had to adjust to hear the rest of her plans to stay knocked up and make babies.
“I have enough schooling for now. My role as your wife is to see to your needs and care,” she offered.
“Over educating myself would feel like I would be competing with you. Jockeying with you is insane, so my position shall be one of support. I comprehend what you do and understand your goals, which I back. Your bed shall be warm at night, and your children will become part of your legacy.”
Micah stared at her. He circled back to the children. His hands came from behind his back as he held up one finger, “Wait, how soon are you talking about having these children?”
“Right away,” Sofia answered, giving him a smile. “Children will make us a family.”
“Don't you want to travel first, see a bit of the world, learn a skill to make money of your own?”
“Why? Your job is to take care of me, and I in turn shall see to your needs and take care of you,” she told him, staring him in the eyes.
Her father, The Yarará Grande or Crossed Pit Viper of Uruguay, slithered his way over to the young couple.
He shook Micah's hand with entirely too much energy.
He hugged his daughter nearly squeezing a boob out of her low-cut dress.
Martín Rossi spoke of the joining of the families, the deals for the beef he would secure from Eleon, and how many grandchildren Micah and Sofia would provide to him.
“I have waited 18 years for this day,” Martín hissed. He yelled across the room, “Eleon, they like each other; let us sign these papers to join our families.”
Micah saw the disdain on his grandmother's face. He saw the shock on Alita's. His next move surprised them all as he excused himself and headed towards the kitchens, followed by Alita.
Micah turned to his guard and told her, “Call Julianna and tell her wheels up in 30. We lay in the flight plan once we are over Bolivia. Pack everything you don't want to leave here, and we are out the back door in less than ten minutes. Move.”
She did as she was told. As cars arrived at the beginning of the gala, she and Micah slipped out in the departure of vehicles dropping off the guests. When the call came in from Eleon, who shouted into the phone about where Micah was, Micah answered his grandfather with a sense of pride.
“Currently, we have entered Bolivian airspace headed for Colombia,” Micah said.
“I am not signing a contract to marry that vapid woman.
My path is uncharted, and I like it that way.
I refuse to be genetically tied to Martín Rossi in any form, let alone bring forth the continuation of his lineage. I'm sorry.”
Eleon continued to yell into the phone, but Micah ended the call. He turned in the seat to face Alita and told her, “You look lovely. I really like that dress on you. Julianna, what is in the galley? I'm hungry. Anything but steak.”
“Steaks!” Micah said, suddenly remembering what he was supposed to get for Angel.
“I have them,” Alita said. “They are in the smaller case. I felt like I was stealing, but I knew you asked for them for Angel.”
“You're all sorts of awesome and have a working brain that you actually use,” Micah said. “I need food and a nap. Maybe a cookie. Julianna, I need a cookie. Can I have a cookie, please?”