Chapter 3
Alejandra
"There's been a change of plans, miss. We will be going to Mr. Damos' office and meeting him there.
" I don't have a choice, so I just smile at the man through the rear-view mirror. Twenty minutes later, I’m escorted into the elevator.
After a few long minutes of really crappy elevator music, the doors open onto a hallway lined with Mexican art and photos of agave in the desert.
I try not to breathe when I realize our footsteps are the only thing I can hear. At this time of the night, you’d expect a janitor to be roaming around the halls cleaning, but there’s no one.
Once we reach the end of the hallway, the driver gestures towards a set of double doors at the far end, and my heart begins to hammer against my chest.
Right. This feels like I’m walking straight into my desert-themed tomb. As I reach the doors, I can hear two voices coming through. From the sound of their arguing, it seems to be some urgent business, so what the hell am I doing here?
“...lose Sol Industries, Ernesto. This needs to be done tonight, and if your…Ofrenda doesn’t agree to it, his empire will be gone. Everything your parents built will belong to your uncle.” The man hisses, his voice sounding strained and laced with some panic.
My breath hitches when I realize he says one word–Ofrenda. That very same word is what brought me into the hands of this man, my very own Amo.
“Calm down, Matthew. The plan will work,” Ernesto answers him, his voice calm and completely opposite of the other man's.
This was a bad idea. Maybe I can still get out of this arrangement.
Yeah, I’ll just call El Heraldo. I'm sure he’s broken contracts before.
Suddenly, a shadow appears on the door before me.
Crap. The chauffeur must be thinking que soy bien chismosa.
I turn to see the tall, skinny man with glasses and a tailored suit.
For a man of his stature, it’s crazy how he can sneak up on people like that.
He doesn’t move to push or touch me, but he does motion for me to step forward as he pushes the double door open.
Both men’s heads snap to us as we step through the doors.
I take a second to glance around the room, and see a stiff dirty blonde man in a navy suit, Matthew, I assume, since the only other man in the room is sitting behind a massive desk like a King.
The man who walked in behind me moves towards the desk and stands behind Ernesto.
“Matthew, meet Alejandra.” The man smiles and tilts his head to the right. I return the greeting with my own polite smile. Matthew moves to the right side of the desk, sets a briefcase on top, and takes out a stack of papers.
“I presume the driver made you aware that the plans have changed and we won’t be flying anywhere tonight. We’ll be staying here in Los Angeles for the time being.”
I fist my hands next to me because this prick literally made me have a freak out session and lie to my papá just for us to stay in L.A.
The two men begin talking amongst themselves, going over the stack of paperwork in front of them. I sweep my gaze one more time across the room. Just in case I missed something the first time. Ok, Juan Wick, cálmate but also a girl can never be too careful.
You would think a man with the money Ernesto Damos has would have decor matching his status.
But this office is almost clinical–devoid of any personality.
There’s absolutely nothing in here that shows me a little bit of who Ernesto Damos is.
It’s an office, but right now, to me, it feels more like a prison.
As I turn my gaze back towards the men, I’m met with Ernesto’s eyes.
A cold chill runs down my body because behind those dark eyes, I see no emotion.
Looking into them feels like looking into a dark mirror that reflects nothing but darkness.
They say the eyes are the window to one's soul. Well, Ernesto Damos’ soul is nowhere to be found, and it makes me physically sick.
Ernesto gestures for me to move towards the space in front of the desk. “Acércate, Palomita.” He’s given me a command, and per our contract, I must obey.
My feet move across the plush carpet, the scent of leather and cigar filling the air around us, as I stop a few inches away from the desk. I lift my chin and refuse to cower before him, meeting his stare right back.
Ernesto pushes the stack across the desk and gestures for me to look at them. I look down at the paper, and they seem to be legal documents. My eyes scan the title of the first page, “Agreement of Conditional Subordination.” My body turns hot. This motherfucker wants me to sign another contract.
“What was wrong with the one we signed at El Santuario?” I ask them.
“It wasn’t binding enough.” Ernesto counters. So it’s about having absolute control over me.
“Your life, your decisions, and your future are all subject to my discretion. You will do as I say, when I say, and with no exception or arguments. In other words, this agreement states that everything about you belongs to me.”
My head snaps from the papers to his face. His gaze is passive because this entire thing means nothing to him–a simple transaction.
I turn my attention back to the paperwork and scan the rest of the document.
Sure enough, it states my body and all I am is his until he sees fit.
Not only will I be taken care of, but my family will be as well, and I will receive a monthly allowance.
Honestly, I know it's stupid of me to sign these papers without having a lawyer look at them, but I don’t think I have a choice in this anymore. So, I sign the damn agreement.
Matthew takes the documents from my hands as soon as I finish signing them and sets a new stack before, but this one makes my stomach drop as I choke on a gasp. I try to imitate his stoic face as I sift through the papers. The pile is a prenup and right underneath it–a California marriage license.
I slam the papers down, the sound loud and sharp in the room.
“Estas loco si piensas que firmaria esto.” My voice comes out as a whisper laced with disbelief. They can’t expect me to be stupid enough to sign either of these documents. To legally bind myself, A LEGAL MARRIAGE, to a man like Ernesto Damos. That’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen.
Ernesto’s eyes narrow at me, and his jaw tightens. Something dark passes over his eyes as he tries to gather his thoughts before speaking.
“Matthew, Felipe, leave us.” His voice is low, but with a controlled anger that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Neither man moves fast enough for him, because in the next second, he slams his hand down on the desk and yells, “Qué esperan imbeciles, salganse!”
His outburst startles me, making me take a few steps away from the desk.
Matthew drops the paperwork he’s holding and hurries out. Felipe strides out of the room right behind him and closes the door. I’m suddenly all alone with an apex predator, and I'm his prey.
Ernesto jolts from his seat and rounds the desk, his movements fast and calculated.
My eyes follow him as I take a few hurried steps back trying to keep as much distance away from him as I can.
Instantly, I become increasingly aware of our height differences as he reaches me within a few steps.
His hand shoots out, gripping my right arm, just above the elbow.
I bite back a cry as sharp pain erupts from where his fingers dig into my skin.
“You will sign the pre-nup and the license,” he growls. His Mexican accent, more prominent now that he’s angry. “And from this day forward you will sign whatever the hell piece of paper I put before you.”
He drags me across the room by my arm and I stumble, my foot snagging on the edge of the carpet, but he doesn’t stop or loosen his grip.
The throbbing and sharp stabs now radiate up to my shoulder.
Ernesto pulls me to face the floor-to-ceiling window.
He doesn't release my arm but with his left hand, he forcibly holds my head to watch the city below us.
"Que te quede algo bien claro, Alejandra.
" His voice is a rough rumble against my ear.
"Este es mi reino. Everything that golden light touches is within my reach.
And everything I gave you… your father's treatments; your brother's tuition.
I can make it all go away just as easily as I made it happen. "
Motherfucker. He's using my family as leverage. Rage surges through me, overshadowing the pain.
"Or," he continues, his grip on my face tightening, "I can give them more.
Comfort and security beyond anything you could ever achieve as a simple nurse.
So be a good girl and obey your Amo." He leans in so close I can feel his lips graze my ear.
"Eres mia, Palomita. Mi ofrenda y poco a poco me pagarás lo que me debes. "
I twist my arm in an attempt to yank it free but his grip is unyielding.
My words come out choked with anger as I grit out “I’ll sign it.
” The words leave a bitter taste on my tongue as I admit my defeat.
“I’ll sign anything you want but you will not use my family against me ever.
” My voice is shaky, but my resolve is strong.
“You hurt or threaten my family again y te juro que yo misma te voy a matar, Ernesto.
I will make you bleed and watch this kingdom of yours crumble at my feet, if it's the last thing I do.” I bore my eyes into his with burning defiance.
A flicker of surprise–maybe amusement–crosses his face.
After what feels like an hour, Ernesto releases my face and uncurls his fingers from my arm.
“Agreed, they are safe so long as you remain loyal to me.” He walks to the doors and opens them, motioning for the two men to come back inside.
The pain eases, but it leaves behind angry red imprints, clear evidence of just how far this man will go to get what he wants.
I have dealt with many entitled men in my life but Ernesto plays by different rules.
He is in a completely different league, the kind that means you have enough money and power to buy a person.
Both men enter the office with their faces blank and avoid looking at me. They’d been right outside the door this whole time, which means they heard everything Ernesto and I said. Matthew walks to the desk picking up the papers he put down, and Felipe walks back to stand at Ernesto’s left.
Ernesto makes a gesture towards them and tells them, “Alejandra has agreed to the marriage.” I don’t miss the fact he doesn’t mention the prenup. His focus must be solely on marriage. I think I might have played right into one of his games.
Matthew lets out a heavy sigh, looks at me, then back at Ernesto.
“Now, Matthew.” Ernesto demands with finality.
The lawyer clears his throat and pulls out a leather binder and positions himself to where he is facing the both of us. He darts his gaze one more time between Ernesto and me before beginning his spiel.
“Ernesto Damos,” he begins, his voice steady despite the situation we’re all in. “Do you take Alejandra Carrillo to be your lawfully wedded wife from this day forward, until death do you part?”
Ernesto’s eyes are fixed on mine as he says the words, “I do.”
My throat feels so dry. This isn’t real, this can’t be real. My life, unraveling with his uttering of two simple words. papá’s face, etched with worry over his medical bills, and Miguel’s bright, hopeful eyes full of dreams. I’m doing this for them and this is the price I have to pay.
“Alejandra Carrillo,” Matthew continues, “do you take Ernesto Damos to be your lawfully wedded husband from this day forward, until death do you part?”
“I do.” I whisper, feeling as if my very soul is leaving my body. It feels like a part of me died here tonight, at the hands of my now husband.
“By the power vested in me by the state of California I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
There’s no fanfare or applause. No, you may kiss your bride.
Ernesto simply reaches into his inner pocket, pulls out a small box and opens it.
Inside is a pear cut pave diamond ring nestled in the middle, as it gleams under the soft office light.
He removes it from the box with a gentleness I didn’t think he had, stands and walks towards me again but this time slowly.
He takes my left hand and slides it onto my ring finger.
“It’s purely for appearances,” he says, as his eyes don’t leave the ring.
My lips twitch and before I can stop myself, “Wow, a symbolic right and a warning. You sure know how to make a girl feel emotionally neglected and underwhelmed, Carino.” That last word, dripping with sarcasm.
The lawyer suddenly finds something in the leather binder interesting enough to hide his face behind it and Felipe stands frozen–wide-eyed even though his eyes are examining our shoes.
My smile dies as I watch their faces pale.
Ernesto finally looks up, and he’s smirking.
The three expected me to submit so easily, but were met with my defiance.
Someone who will bend at Ernesto’s will, not a new wife who sasses her dangerous, powerful new husband the second they are officially married.
Ernesto’s eyes bare into mine and I finally get a glimpse of something behind those dark eyes. Possessiveness.
“Welcome to the family, Mrs. Damos.” His voice is a smooth silken trap, and it’ll swallow me whole.