Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liana
Istare at my reflection in the mirror, a stranger looking back at me.
Emerald silk clings to my body like a second skin, making me look older and more sophisticated than I feel inside.
My dark hair falls in loose waves around my shoulders, styled by a team of miracle workers who spent hours transforming me from the nervous, confused girl I really am into this vision of elegant poise.
It’s not me, not really…but I don’t hate it either.
"You look perfect," Pita whispers, adjusting one final curl. "Like a true Sanchez."
I swallow around the lump in my throat. In less than twenty-four hours, I'll be married to a man I've never met. A man who might not be what I had envisioned in my head, after all. The thought makes my stomach twist into knots so tight I can barely breathe.
"Where's Frankie?" I ask, my voice smaller than I'd like. "Why hasn’t he been around? Is he okay?"
Pita's eyes flick away from mine in the mirror.
"He had…duties to attend to. Don't worry about him now, mija. Trust me, he is perfectly fine."
I want to scream that of course I'm worried about him.
How can I not be? The one person who's made this entire nightmare bearable has vanished without a word, right when I need him most. I want to see him.
I want to ask him what he is thinking and if whatever started between us is really over?
But I swallow the words, forcing them down along with the tears threatening to spill over my carefully applied makeup.
‘Don’t show weakness, Liana.’
Two guards I don't recognize wait for me downstairs in the foyer. Neither speaks as they escort me to a waiting SUV, their faces impassive. They're not Frankie's normal men…I know all of their faces by now. These are strangers, and their presence only adds to my growing anxiety.
"Where are we going?" I ask nervously, though I already know the answer.
"Rehearsal dinner," the taller one replies, his voice flat and emotionless. "Santiago Sanchez's instructions are to deliver you directly to the venue."
‘Deliver me. Like I’m a package.’
The thought makes me scowl as I step into the SUV and the door shuts behind me.
The drive passes in silence and I watch the lights blur past my window, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.
I press my fingers against my side, feeling the slight ridge of my datura tattoo beneath the fabric of my dress.
It’s the only way I can think of to calm myself and the raging storm of emotions inside my head.
Maybe I should’ve known the restaurant would look like this.
It’s sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows.
The windows are bright with the golden lights from inside…
too bright. It’s almost intimidating, the way it glows against the night.
My steps slow as I catch sight of the entrance, lined with security.
All of them scanning every single person who gets too close to the entrance.
My stomach lurches when it hits me that the entire place is shut down and reserved just for us.
There will be no casual dinner tonight. Just this event and whoever’s important enough to be here.
I’m not sure why I’m even surprised. I'm slowly learning that this family is much bigger and more important than I ever knew.
"Ready?" the guard asks, opening my door.
‘No. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready.’
I want to scream my thoughts in his face but I know he wont give a damn so I nod anyway, because what choice do I really have?
I follow them towards the entrance where the security immediately parts and I can feel dozens of eyes watching me from every direction.
There is a hush of silence making me want to crawl under a rock and hide.
The moment I step inside, noise hits me, and a small sense of relief when no one is watching me like they were outside.
Laughter, conversation and the clink of glasses echo around the room.
It’s filled with strangers in expensive suits and designer dresses, diamonds glinting at throats and wrists under the warm lighting.
Now this I can do. This doesn’t feel much different from the parties I attended back home.
I plaster on a small smile, wishing for a familiar face as I scan the crowd.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly wishing for Frankie.
He's not here, though and my heart sinks when I see the familiar faces of other guards stationed at each doorway. Why isn’t he here?
The realization that he might not want to see me makes me feel suddenly, terribly alone.
"Ah! Here she is!"
A loud voice cuts through my panic making me jump and I spin to find a familiar man approaching.
Santiago Sanchez spreads his arms wide in welcome and pulls my stiff body against his.
There’s something unnerving about him even though he is being so welcoming.
Maybe it’s because I know now that he is the head of this very dangerous cartel I am being married into.
My cousin's warning echoes inside of my head as I take him in with a small smile on my face.
His hair is perfectly styled and his suit is crisp.
An expensive watch glitters on his wrist, catching my eye as he waves his hand around at the surrounding guests.
"My beautiful daughter-to-be," he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You look stunning tonight, mija."
"Thank you," I manage, the words sticking in my throat.
"Come, come. You must meet everyone. The family is so excited to finally welcome you properly."
‘The family? Does that mean Rio is here?’
His hand at the small of my back guides me through the crowd.
I feel like a zoo animal on display as he introduces me to business associates whose names I know I won’t remember.
Each one studies me with the same appraising look, as if assessing the value of his investment.
It makes me wonder how much these people know about me.
Do they know I was basically traded like cattle?
That I’m being forced to marry to uphold a contract between families?
Do they even care? No one back home would bat an eye.
For them, this would all be a normal every day occurrence.
"And here," Santiago says, breaking me from my thoughts as he steers me toward a group near the bar, "are my other sons. You've met Diego, of course."
Diego nods at me, that same amused look on his face that I remember from our drive to meet my cousins. Beside him stand another man who shares the same strong jawline and broad shoulders. He also looks familiar and it hits me. I’ve seen them around the property with Frankie.
"Leo," Santiago indicates the taller one, who gives me a lazy smile that reminds me unnervingly of a predator sizing up its prey.
"Welcome to the family, little sister," Leo drawls, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips.
His eyes never leave mine as he kisses my knuckles, and I resist the urge to wipe my hand on my dress afterward. All of these men are handsome with a deadly air surrounding them.
"And this is Nicci, my daughter," Santiago adds as a striking woman approaches.
Nicci Sanchez is breathtaking, with short dark hair, bright green eyes and full lips painted a deep crimson.
She looks like she walked straight off the cover of Vogue.
She also looks just as deadly as her brothers.
She studies me from head to toe, her gaze so penetrating I feel like she can see straight through to every secret I'm hiding.
I fidget with the seam of my dress and her eyes immediately snap to my fingers, making me pause.
"So," she says finally, a smile spreading across her face that sends chills up my spine. "You're the woman who will tame my brother? Interesting."
The comment hangs in the air, loaded with some meaning I can't decipher. Everyone else laughs except me but before I can respond, Diego steps forward, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.
"Let me take over the introductions, Father," he says smoothly. "I'm sure you have other guests to greet."
Santiago hesitates, then nods, patting my cheek in a gesture that feels more possessive than affectionate before moving away. Nicci turns back towards me, her eyes still assessing my every move.
“Has my brother been treating you well?”
The question catches me completely off guard.
“Oh…I…,” I manage to get out a few words while she stares at me silently waiting. “We haven’t actually met yet.”
Her eyes immediately snap to Diego’s and narrow. I hear snickering from beside me but my face is trained between Nicci and Diego.
“Rio has been busy,” Diego drawls out with a blank face.
“Has he now?” Nicci stares at her brother, her eyes still narrowed.
I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in some sitcom where I am the butt of some terrible joke. What is going on? Finally, after a few awkward seconds, I gather my courage.
"Where is Rio anyway?" I ask. "Shouldn't my future husband be at his own rehearsal dinner?"
Diego turns to me, a strange smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Rio is…taking care of last-minute details," he replies. "Don't worry. He'll be at the altar tomorrow where he belongs."
The way he says it makes my skin crawl, though I can't explain why. There's something almost mocking in his tone, like he's enjoying a private joke at my expense. They all are. Well except for Nicci who is still watching our exchange with narrowed eyes.
“What about Frankie? I haven’t seen him in a while. Will he be coming back as my guard?”
I try to sound impassive as I ask the burning question while Diego still wears his slight smirk.
“Frankie?” Nicci asks with confusion.
“Her private guard,” Diego cuts in.
She looks like she is about to say something else but Diego chooses that perfect moment to wave over at some other guests and guide me towards them. I watch over my shoulder as I’m pulled away and see Nicci speaking rapidly to Leo who holds the same amused looks on his face.
“You won’t be seeing Frankie anymore,” Diego whispers under his breath as we are surrounded by another group of unfamiliar faces.
My heart sinks, though I try not to show my emotion. I’m not sure what happened or why he is telling me this. I can only hope it isn’t true or that it is just temporary. I don’t respond to him. Instead, I plaster on a fake smile for the rest of the conversation hoping it will end quickly.
As the evening wears on, I grow increasingly uncomfortable.
Not only is Frankie gone, but I realize with a sinking heart that my cousins aren't here either.
I'd hoped, foolishly, perhaps that they might have been invited.
But of course not. Why would the Sanchez family welcome members of a rival family to their wedding festivities?
By the time the dinner ends, my face aches from forcing fake smiles and my head pounds.
The same anonymous guards escort me back to the estate with the same silence we arrived in.
I make my way up to my room where I kick off my heels and unzip the emerald dress, letting it pool at my feet.
I'm about to step into the shower when I notice a small white box with a ribbon tied around it, sitting on my vanity.
I approach the box cautiously, my heart suddenly racing.
Could it be from Frankie? An explanation for his absence, perhaps?
A goodbye? Or maybe Rio? A pre-wedding gift of some sort?
With trembling fingers, I untie the ribbon and lift the lid.
Nestled on a bed of black velvet is a delicate silver anklet.
I lift it out carefully, watching it catch the light as a small charm dangles from the center. A datura flower.
My breath catches in my throat. The same flower tattooed on my side. The same flower tattooed on Frankie's neck. But there's no note and no explanation.
I sink onto the stool near my vanity with the anklet clutched in my palm tightly.
Questions swirl through my mind but there is no one here to answer them.
Is this from Frankie? A parting gift before I belong to another man?
Something to remember him by? Or could it be from Rio?
Did he take Frankie and force him to tell him of the nickname?
Or did he tell him willingly? Was I some sort of joke between the two?
My head swirls as I enter the shower, scalding myself with hot water.
By the time I exit, my body is red and raw and I still can’t get my thoughts in order.
With shaking hands, I grab the anklet and clasp it around my ankle.
It’s both comforting and terrifying. Like a beautiful shackle binding me to a future I can't escape.
Tomorrow I'll marry a stranger, while my heart belongs to another man. I close my eyes and try to imagine Rio and what tomorrow will bring, yet all I can see is Frankie's face. His eyes filled with desire as he whispered my nickname against my skin.
Datura. Poisonous and beautiful. Just like the lies I've been living.