30. Carina
CARINA
My commitment to staying fit and in shape was never about being sexy or my looks. Since I was a girl, and my mother took me jogging and then running with her, I relished the freedom to feel strong. To notice muscles and to register the ease of lifting heavy things or holding a gun.
This morning, though, as I finished my workout, I smiled with the victory of exercising with the goal of being as healthy and fit as I could for my baby.
Already, I was adapting to this new role.
To this new adventure of what else I could do for Maksim and the family I had found here.
The Bratva wasn’t only a criminal organization.
I was part of a family in a way that I had been missing.
Since my parents passed away and I was left to pick up the pieces of my life with Arturo, I’d missed a real sense of belonging.
Of fitting in with a principle of teamwork.
My brother hadn’t fostered any sentiment of togetherness.
Only Maksim could show me that.
My husband and all my brothers-in-law. My sister-in-law. Even Lev and Alexei as cousins.
I wasn’t alone, fighting to be heard or seen or respected.
I belonged, and that was a conviction I could stand behind as I imagined becoming a mother soon.
I exited the gym feeling more optimistic than I had when I entered it, but as soon as I headed into the bathroom to shower and heard Maksim calling out for me, I suspected something was about to ruin my good mood. The stern tone of his voice was all I needed to hear to realize something was up.
“Carina?
I backed up, frowning at him before I could shower. “Over here.”
He turned, seeking me out. The frown on his face matched the tone he was using. Concerned. Worried. Pensive. Determined to react.
“I texted your brother.”
I reared back, surprised. When I left the dining room, I had done so with the guess that he’d make the flight down to the Cartel compound and visit Arturo, as he’d requested. Relying on the ambiguity of text messages didn’t seem wise.
“And?”
“He’s up to something.” He handed me his phone.
I took it and lowered the towel I’d used from the gym to wipe off sweat. Sinking to sit on the chair off to the side, near the vanity, I frowned and began to read the exchange.
Garcia: We need to meet.
Maksim: You are not and never will be in any position to dictate what I need to do.
Garcia: We should meet ASAP.
Maksim: Why?
I peered at my husband. He stood there, arms crossed, expression stiff, as he watched me. “You want to meet him?”
“No. But also, yes. Keep reading.”
I didn’t like the idea of him going to see my brother. Without looking back at him yet, I shook my head and expressed that. “I don’t want to worry about you going down there. Not after we were run off the road near the Cartel land.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I do worry about you. You are my husband. You are the father of my child.” I love you. “Why wouldn’t I worry about you?”
“Keep reading,” he said again.
Garcia: Now that a child is on the way, it’s time for us to discuss operational concessions in the territory. This child is a representation and token of how strong the alliance is between our families.
I jerked up to face him. “He didn’t even seem to care about this alliance anymore!”
He nodded. “Exactly. I base that on what you’ve shared, too.”
I thought back to the day of the fateful arms shipment that he’d sent to the Hernandez Cartel instead.
Screwing up that delivery was the catalyst for all this trouble.
He’d told me then that he was looking into new partnerships, but I hadn’t understood how determined he was to do that until after I’d married Maksim and learned more.
A sinking sense of dread returned to me. The rush of endorphins from my workout was over now, and I grew more uneasy as I read on.
Garcia: Now that you and my sister are clearly settled into your marriage and expecting, it is past time for us to discuss more details about business in the area.
Where can we expand our routes? What else can we procure for you and deliver?
How much more are you willing to increase your purchases within this quarter?
Once more, I jerked up to face him. “He’s fishing for intel.”
“I agree.”
If this weren’t such a serious conversation, I would have gloated on how he almost seemed proud of me for connecting the dots like he had.
“He wouldn’t have written this text either. He probably had it drafted or used Ai.”
“I agree,” he repeated.
I kept reading.
Garcia: This is why we need to meet. To discuss what else we can do through our business alliance.
The final piece of the thread ended with Maksim. He had the final word, and it was one word.
Maksim: No.
Arturo hadn’t replied. No dots indicated that he was intending to shoot a message back, either.
I set the phone on the vanity and let out a deep sigh. So much for that glow after my workout. So much for those warm thoughts about belonging here and feeling confident in the future.
Seeing my brother’s words renewed the anxiety that I couldn’t ever silence about him.
“He told me, Maksim. He told me that he was looking into other partners and opportunities. Elena’s already working on following a money trail that links him with the Cartels who are probably under Yusef Antonov’s influence.” Each word I said drove this unease deeper into my soul.
“And that is why I need to meet with him. To speak with him directly and resolve this.”
Resolve this, meaning…?
Lowering my face, I accepted the bald truth of what he wasn’t coming right out and saying.
He would resolve any threat or danger to us or the Volkov empire and businesses by killing him.
As hard as it was to consider my brother being killed, to realize I would be the last member of the Garcia family to survive this violent world, I couldn’t deny that it was due. That it was a long time coming.
Arturo hadn’t been earning anyone’s trust—especially not mine. He consistently made poor choices and decided to do rash things that would harm or weaken the Cartel’s standing.
I licked my lips and nodded as I faced him. “I think I have to agree with that.”
I couldn’t state full agreement. That would be the same as declaring that I wanted my brother dead, and a small part of me, a tiny piece of my soul, resisted.
Would my father want me to look the other way at my brother being killed?
Would my mother be proud of me for not defending my own flesh and blood?
I stood and didn’t look at Maksim as I turned toward the shower. I couldn’t face him when he’d see those questions in my eyes. I didn’t want him to sympathize with me about the conflict in my heart.
He didn’t press me for anything else, retreating out of the bathroom and letting me have my space.
Under the hot spray of the shower, I tried to reclaim a logical sense of calm. That I wasn’t doing anything wrong. That I wasn’t at fault here. If Arturo was due to be killed for his decisions, that was on him. Not me. Not anyone else.
But I haven’t been there to guide him. I haven’t been home to lead him away from wanting to listen to Yusef or anyone else. Without me there as a voice of reason…
I frowned as I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself.
No. This isn’t my fault. And I refuse to regret being here. I can’t deny the goodness I’ve found here.
I was happy here, in love with my husband, proud to have a role as a smuggling strategist, and excited to look forward to a baby. Those things could not compete with the guilt of not being there for my brother.
“It’s not as though he’d ever listen to me, anyway,” I muttered, thinking back to what Enrique said before he died.
Sitting down in the same chair again, I grabbed my phone and called him.
I dialed the number for my brother for the first time since I’d left the villa on the Cartel compound.
I hadn’t been there. He hadn’t wanted me there. And he likely wouldn’t ever listen to me.
But I had to try. I owed it to my family—to Maksim and our child—to investigate what he was scheming, what threat he posed.
To my surprise, he answered the video call. The screen flashed to show him, the cloudless blue sky stretching behind him as far as the eye could see.
“Well, well, well,” he mocked, smirking at me. He seemed to be walking, the view shifting as though he was in motion. “Look who it is. My sister. The mother to be.”
“You saw that picture off my cloud, huh?” I replied.
Screw the standard of formal greetings. We’d never been the kind of siblings to bother with those.
He sneered. “Have you called to collect my good wishes? My congratulations?”
“No. I’m calling to understand what the hell you are trying to do.” I stood, no longer able to sit still. Merely hearing his sarcastic, bitter voice made me so angry. “Whatever nonsensical plan you are up to, it can’t end well, Arturo. It won’t.”
He laughed, shaking his head like I was silly.
“Same old, same old. You’ll never change.
All you ever want to do is nag and scold, like you know what the fuck you’re talking about.
” Lowering his sunglasses to squint at me, he smirked.
“You don’t nag your husband, do you? I can’t see Maksim Volkov ever having the patience to put up with your shit. ”
“Arturo. Don’t be like this.” I wouldn’t beg, but I could say what I had to, and maybe that would give me enough peace to live with myself in the downfall of the Cartel.
“Rely on Jorge. Or Emilio. Pablo,” I said, offering the names of some of the upper lieutenants in the Cartel, ones my father trusted greatly when he was alive. “Listen to what they say.”
“Oh, so you’re finally getting the point that I won’t listen to you?” he taunted. “Because I won’t. I never have. Because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I was so over those lines of argument that it didn’t faze me. “Then listen to them. Listen to someone who cares about?—”
“I have,” he snapped. “I have been listening to the counsel that I’ve needed since our father died.”
My stomach tensed. “No. For the love of God, Arturo. No.”
“I’ve already been in contact with a man who can provide me with greater benefits than anything Father ever could have dreamed of.”
“Arturo, you can’t trust?—”
“Do not tell me who to trust! You know nothing. I have already been in talks with someone who will allow me to better the Cartel. I’ve already established who can be my intermediaries.
And if there’s any concern about this new direction, then I’ll just figure out how to play both sides.
” He grinned, showing me how deeply he believed he could pull something like this off.
That he could be some mastermind of Mafia and Cartel politics and come out on top.
“Arturo, you can’t?—”
He snarled, baring his teeth. “That’s the last time you’ll ever tell me what I can or can’t do, Sister.”
Before I could reply, he disconnected the call.
I stopped pacing and hung my head, feeling my heart shrink with dismay that the Cartel I’d once been so proud of was no longer going to survive in this environment of mayhem he was allowing.