30. The Price Of Loyalty #2
Don Cayetano’s mansion in the hills of Pedralbes is obnoxiously large and obnoxiously gaudy.
So much marble, gold, and bulky wood furniture.
The second we step outside isn’t any better.
The lawn is nearly overtaken by a massive water fountain and an extravagant tile driveway leads to a five-car garage.
Whatever vehicles didn’t fit inside parked in the driveway or just on the carb and Regina and I watch as the Dons take turns leaving.
“I’ll tell you one thing.” She sighs. “This is the first time where I feel completely lost. I have no idea where to start.”
“Hey!”
We look over and Pedro waves at us. “I got your text. I ended up parking a block away, I brought the car to the corner.”
I turn to Regina. “Need a ride?”
She shakes her head. “No, thank you. I have somewhere else to be and it’s nearby.”
We say goodbye with a chaste peck on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
On the walk back to the car I fill Pedro in on this evening’s meeting.
In recent years, I’ve mostly foregone the need for a security chaperone.
It didn’t feel necessary and I know Dahlia has been much happier without one of the men following her around all the time.
However, I always bring someone when I meet with the other Dons. I’d never trust them so completely.
“Do you guys have any idea of who might be helping Simón Ortiz?” Pedro asks.
“None. We don’t even know where to start because in theory, it could be anyone. Regina and Javier had a point. This kind of power and control could turn even the most faithful ally.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. “Why don’t you leave it to me?”
I frown and cast him a look. He unlocks the car doors and we get inside, me in the passenger’s seat, him in the driver’s. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, the men hear things. Security details talk. Simón Ortiz’s detail is unhappy. We could flip one. Gather intel.”
“Are they really so disloyal? I find that hard to believe.”
“Simón is basically new money.” Pedro explains. “He appeared out of thin air two years ago. Everyone around him can be bought. His family isn’t like ours or any of the others. Many of us have been serving the same people practically all of our lives. It’s different. Money can turn them. Trust me.”
It’s been a long time since Pedro took initiative on something like this.
Ever since the fire a few years ago I can admit to putting Pedro in the backseat because I couldn’t bring myself to trust him anymore.
I was angry and blinded by the emotion and I blamed him for something that wasn’t really his fault.
One way or another, Sandro was going to find his way to Dahlia whether it was in a fire at the lounge, on the streets in broad daylight, while she was on campus, or in our own home.
His mind was set on ruining her to get to me and nothing was going to stop him.
Pedro has been on the back burner all this time.
On “desk duty” so to speak. He’s always been charged with keeping the house security in order but he rarely does anything else.
I’ve come to lean on Mauricio even more in recent years, especially as Oscar has slowly been phasing into an early retirement.
He’s given many years to this family and he’d like to live his life while there’s still time to do so—young and healthy. I don’t blame him.
I make up my mind right then and there. “All right. Do it then. I want to see if any of his men are willing to give him up.”
“Trust me,” Pedro grips the steering wheel. “For the right price, anyone can be turned.”
* * *
Dahlia reaches across the bed and closes my laptop. “It’s almost midnight. Go to bed.”
God, if it were that easy.
I open up my laptop again and resume reading. “I have to finish this proposal tonight. Anthony sent it to me almost a month ago and he keeps hounding me for it.”
She sits up and angles her head to look at my screen. “Expansion out east. Fun.”
“There’s another shipping family based in Shanghai—the Duans. He thinks their company would be worth looking into. Old, established, with a sparkling reputation.”
“What makes them worth looking into?”
“Right now, it’s run by twins Kaelun and Yuelin Duan. They’ve done a good job but the damage their father did during his tenure as CEO was detrimental. They’re going bankrupt and quickly.”
Giving up on sleep at a decent hour, Dahlia sits up and takes the laptop from me.
She skims the proposal with impressive speed—a skill both she and Karina possess, likely acquired because of their academic background—and she types notes in red for Anthony to review.
Then she slams the laptop shut, puts it in the drawer of her nightstand, and says, “Go. To. Bed.”
“That was fast.”
She yanks the blanket over her head. “I’m tired.”
I hadn’t realized it before but she’s wearing the nightgown I like. I pull on the bed sheet until she lets go and slide the strap over her bare shoulder. “How tired?”
She rolls over in bed with a huff of frustration. “Very tired. If you don’t recall, you chewed my ear off earlier about the vote with the other Dons.”
“I did not…”
She opens her mouth to say more but decides against. “Alex, what does it matter if the Ortizes join the coalition? Who cares? They could have control of every terminal from here to kingdom come. Our family is moving in a different direction and change is inevitable. You have to learn to accept that.”
I think back to the conversation Dimitrio and I had a few weeks ago.
Of course I want peace, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Allegra’s birth made it clearer than ever that in order for this family to have a real future it must sever itself from its past. But is Dimitrio right?
Will I always be torn between these two sides of myself?
The one that loathes chaos and the other that craves it.
Truth is, I’m struggling. Time passes and all of these plans, abstract plans and ideas we’ve thrown around for years, are becoming actualized.
We’re fully legitimizing the Enterprise.
Plans are already in motion, money is being moved, business deals are being made.
Yet, the closer I get to legitimacy the tighter I hold on to being a Don.
What am I, who am I, if not this? Being the head of this family is all I’ve ever known and now this part of my identity is about to take on a whole new meaning.
Is there a part of me that won’t admit to wanting this? Is there a part of me that won’t admit it can’t let go?
Dahlia leans over and kisses my cheek, pulling me from my thoughts. “Sorry. I’m just tired and grumpy, never mind me.”
“I’m sorry I missed our dinner plans.”
She smiles. “It’s fine. You’ll make it up to me.”
I tug on the front of her nightgown. “How about right now?”
She smacks my hand away and in retaliation, I yank the blanket off her figure and slip an arm around her waist, yanking her across the bed.
She laughs and pushes against my chest as I bury my face in the crook of her neck and kiss the soft skin there.
“You’re worse than a five-year-old. This isn’t a slumber party! ”
“You’re right. This is better.” She makes a halfhearted attempt at freeing herself from my grasp. I flip us over so she’s lying beneath me and I pin both wrists above her head. “We get to do this naked. One of the many benefits of being married.”
She descends into a fit of giggles. “We were doing things naked before we got married.”
“This is better.” I kiss her top lip. “Now I get to call you my wife when I’m inside you.”
Wrapping a leg around my waist, she thrusts her hips upward, her silent way of signaling consent.
With a firm push she switches positions and pins me beneath her, straddling my hips with her knees.
Once she’s secure in her position on top, she takes my hands and guides them to where she wants—one in her hair and the other between her legs
Our lips meet and her mouth opens for me.
I thrust my tongue inside in slow, languid movements, exploring and tasting until a deep, guttural sound builds inside my chest. I love kissing her.
I love it when she pulls away to catch her breath but only for a split second because she can never stay away for long.
Her tongue glides against mine again, teeth nibbling and biting at my bottom lip each time she comes back for more.
I stroke the length of her sex with nimble fingers and she gasps into my mouth as the pleasure builds.
Her hands are trembling when they reach down for the drawstring of my sweatpants but I push them away.
“So impatient.” I grip a fistful of hair and tug until she reveals her neck to me. I find the pulse there and kiss it. “Life your arms.”