Chapter 19
Remus
In true Otero fashion, I'm alerted last minute my watchful eye will be required at the opera tonight.
I've never been a fan of the theatre – possibly due to the Soberano's influence in its remodel.
I've always found the opera itself to be beautiful, but the melancholy voices of the performers haunt me in my sleep, and I hate the trauma it elicits in me.
I have my own box, solidifying me as one of the richest men in Orlencia, but I'm rarely in attendance.
In fact, it's been about a year since I was last in the lavish auditorium.
Despite my reservations, and my preference for the loud and boisterous music in the Night District, I will find my way to the Entertainment District where the gold-dome theatre beckons me to fulfill my duty to Otero.
It will be simple enough to keep an eye on Ines since she will be in the Murrieta box directly across auditorium from mine.
The hardest part of the evening will be keeping my ego in check.
Something primal stirs within my chest whenever she's within sight.
I can't allow my jumbled thoughts and unwanted feelings to derail the meticulously crafted revenge I've craved since I was ten years old.
She is a piece to an intricate puzzle. Nothing more.
Desperately needing a drink and some friendly encouragement, I trot inside The Jaded Fox. Even this early in the evening, the bar is buzzing with excitement. I claim one of the empty barstools and watch one of my oldest friends, Shaw, run to-and-fro serving customers with a bright and genuine grin.
He was one of the lucky ones. Both of his parents managed to escape the Mass Execution and aid in leading survivors to the catacombs.
However, Shaw's need for revenge is still as important as the rest of us.
He watched from an alley as his home was burned to the ground, watched as his parents' business was confiscated and everything they'd worked so hard for gone within seconds.
He was forced to carry on as if nothing was wrong – as if he was somehow not as traumatized as those of us who lost loved ones.
He was reminded throughout our childhood, and sometimes to this day, that he really has no need to be so bitter seeing as his family is still intact.
But what people don't always realize is although your body might have survived, the mind doesn't.
Shaw's father sits in the catacombs a hollow shell of who he used to be.
His failure to protect and provide haunt him.
Some call Shaw's father a coward for running when other Venturans lost their lives fighting.
At times I think Shaw believes his father to be lesser of a man because of his decisions.
In the end, his father made a choice; the decision to protect his wife and son above all others. Was it the right choice? It's not for me to decide, but public opinion would say no.
Despite the whispers and quick glances of disdain, Shaw hasn't allowed the negativity to crush his spirit. He's more determined than ever to see the wrongs against our people righted, especially seeing how his father has lost the will to live and is waiting for death to claim him.
Six years ago, when Otero funded Don Rafael's rise in the Night District, I strategically bought businesses that were dying, only to remodel, restaff, and reopen them in grandeur.
One of the first endeavors I took on was giving a run-down bar a second chance.
I put Shaw in charge of running the place, expecting him to be my eyes and ears in the Night District.
Everyone speaks with loose tongues when in the presence of a friendly bartender, thinking their secrets will remain with him.
If only my adversaries knew how far my reach truly stretched.
Some of our brethren in the catacombs objected to Shaw's involvement, claiming there were braver candidates more suitable, but I refused to bend to their will.
From the day I lost my parents, Cassius and Shaw have been my brothers.
I learned a lot from Shaw and have an unyielding loyalty to him, especially after he kept my nightmares a secret.
He's never once told a soul of my panic attacks.
Although I have them under control now, back when I was a scared ten-year-old, I had little control over any aspect of my life.
I'm glad I trusted my gut.
Shaw has proven to be worthy of his position.
He's the reason I weaseled my way into the Soberano's good graces.
Shaw overheard one of the Dons on the Soberano's small council griping about how the ruler wanted a festival thrown in his honor, but no one seemed up to the task.
So, what did I do? I threw a party unlike the Night District had ever seen before.
It was the first masquerade carnival in decades and when the Soberano caught wind of the three-day jubilee, he summoned me to his office and commissioned me to do something for him.
But bigger and better. And I did just that.
I made a name for myself by catering to the middle-class and elite to orchestrate a festival worthy of the Soberano's praise. I found myself sitting at his table and given jurisdiction over the Night and Entertainment Districts shortly after the celebration.
It has been difficult not to plunge a knife into his chest, but I have listened to Otero and have bided my time.
I've thrown him a celebratory festival every year for the last five years, each one more vibrant and debaucherous than the last. With his complete faith and trust in me, he doesn't question my decisions and gives me free reign to whatever resources and information I need and want.
All the information, that is, except the secrets between the Soberano and Severo Murrieta.
They've always been close and despite my charm, I've been stiff-armed out of that duo's relationship.
Perhaps, that blind spot will be illuminated with Ines slipping into their inner circle.
The thought of her being harmed in the process causes bile to rise in my throat.
I swallow that fear, purging it from my mind.
She knew when she agreed to be my spy she would be in danger's way.
Why am I the one struggling with her decision?
All my friends, myself included, are at risk daily.
We have so much more to lose as Venturans in hiding than she does as a thief from the Brogratto.
Guilt fingers through my mind, creeping into every crevice of my soul. It's one thing for us to be discovered and executed – we were always meant for the gallows – but she isn't one of us. Was it wrong to bring her into this?
She might not be a Wing, but she too was marked by death. We're all walking dead men, lying in wait for the day we're exposed. Let's just hope we don't succumb early. Victory is within reach; I can taste it.
"Well, well, well." Carmen turns the corner of the bar and walks toward me, wiping a glass clean with a rag. "It seems a bit early to see you, Don Rafael." She spits my alter-ego's name out like a curse. "What brings you here dressed so nicely?"
I've known Carmen Delgado long enough to read between the lines perfectly well.
She doesn't want me here and rightfully so.
She's angry I tortured Ines. Hell, I still toss and turn at night burdened by the memory of what I did.
But I can't avoid Carmen forever and I certainly can't sweep her fury under a rug.
Better to face her wrath head on than run like a whipped dog with my tail tucked between my legs.
"I am needed at the opera tonight," I say, steadying my voice and bracing for a verbal assault.
In full transparency, meeting Carmen in public is the only way to settle disagreements with her. In private, she won't hesitate to take a few well-aimed swings. She might have been plucked from the Brogratto District, but she certainly doesn't behave like the middle-class.
"How lovely." She pours a whiskey neat, my drink of choice. I expect her to shove it toward me but instead, despite her hating the burn of liquor, she downs it and slams the empty cup down in front of me. "If you are attending the opera, shouldn't you be on your way there now?"
"I should be," I nod, rooting my elbows to the bar. "But I wanted to see you first."
"See me?" She presses a hand to her chest, feigning excitement. "What could the great and powerful Don Rafael want with little ole me?"
"A bit dramatic, Carmen, don't you think?"
"Not as dramatic as I would like to be." The viciousness in her eyes spears through me and makes me feel small. She's the only person in this entire world who slightly scares me.
"I know you're upset about Ines – "
"Upset?" She interrupts, shaking her head, chuckling like a menace. "No, I'm not upset. I'm furious. So furious, Shaw had to talk me out of burning your house to the fucking ground."
I lean closer and whisper, "I can't take back what I did but I need you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."
A look of surprise flashes across her face, my apology calming the storm raging in her tiny body. "You're sorry?"
"I am. Would it please you to know I have nightmares about what I did to her?"
Silence stretches between us several seconds before she grabs a glass and pours a second serving of whiskey, this one intended for me. "Yes, it does please me to know you have nightmares." My eyes shoot up to meet hers and she continues, "It shows me you have a heart under all the muck."
"So you forgive me?"
"I'm not the one you should be begging forgiveness from." She plants her elbows on the bar, mirroring my posture. "And when you beg her to forgive you, you better be groveling on your hands and knees. I'm surprised she hasn't slit your throat for putting your hands on her."
I lift my head up toward the ceiling and groan, "Carmen – "
"How the hell did you find her anyway?" She moves on, not interested in whatever excuse I'll scrape up.
"I found her file in the Hall of Records.
She looks exactly like Otero's niece and happened to be on death row.
" I shrug. "We needed someone to infiltrate the Murrieta circle, and a plan quickly formulated in my mind, so I went with it.
" I down the whiskey and place my empty glass on the counter. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"
"What do you mean?"
"You grew up together, ran the streets together. Why didn't you tell me about her when I brought you here?" I could have tried to find her, I think to myself, knowing damn well past me probably wouldn't have given two shits about searching for the thief.
She bites her lip, taking a moment to mull over her answer. "I didn't tell you about Ines because I went looking for her and couldn't find her."
"Wait." Frustration bubbles in my stomach before a frown quickly follows. "You went to the Brogratto alone? What if you – "
"Nothing happened to me, so don't get ruffled." She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. "I searched for her at night for a few weeks but never found her. And honestly, at the time, I didn't think you would care if I told you about her."
"If you had, I would have helped her." It hurts to think maybe that's dishonest of me to claim.
"I know that now," she sheepishly agrees. "I didn't want to press my luck. You'd rescued me from the Casa de Placer. I was afraid if I angered you, you'd send me back."
I run my fingers through my hair. The possibility I could have helped Ines years ago leaves an ache in my chest. She's been alone all this time when she didn't have to be.
Carmen reaches across the bar and rests her hand atop mine. "You can't save all of us," she whispers.
I sigh. "I can try."
The clock chimes seven times. If I don't leave now, I will be making a very late entrance to the opera. "I have to go." I grab my jacket from the back of my seat. "Are we ok?"
She nods. "We're fine." She snags my empty glass and dunks it in the water-filled sink. "Dateless tonight? Not befitting an eligible Don." She teases.
I roll my shoulders back and mutter incoherent curses under my breath.
She's right. I can't show up dateless. I scan the bar until my sights settle on an attractive woman sitting alone in a booth by the window.
She appears to be waiting for someone, but I care little for who might be running late. His loss is my opportunity.
I knock on the bar twice, drawing Carmen's gaze. "Tell Shaw I'll be back."
"Will do."
I tug my arms through my jacket and sift through the customers until I'm standing in front of her. She's dressed nicely and has a fur stole around her shoulders. She's not an elite, but she's certainly good at pretending to be. She'll suffice.
"Good evening, Senorita," I smile when she looks up at me.
"Good evening, Don Rafael." She blushes, and I'm pleased to forgo extensive introductions.
"Oh, so you know who I am?"
She chuckles. "I don't think there's a soul living in Orlencia who does not know who you are, Don Rafael."
"Forgive my forwardness, Senorita…?
"Ramona," she infuses a sensuality in her voice. "Ramona Jimenez."
"Ramona," I take her hand and press her knuckles against my lips. "What do you have planned this evening?"
She smiles flirtatiously and it makes me queasy having to flirt in return. "I suppose whatever you have planned for us."
She's a naughty girl indeed. If my thoughts weren't consumed by Ines – and the strict ban I have on sleeping with someone without knowledge of my Venturan blood – I might be taken by her.
She's pretty to be sure with her light brown hair, curious hazel eyes, and curvaceous figure, but even her bold flirtation isn't enough to truly tempt me. But she doesn't need to know that.
"Have you ever been to the opera, Ramona?"