Chapter 27
Ines
Sitting opposite Dona Otero in the carriage seems like an entire lifetime spent in silence. She stares out her window and I'm not sure I care for her reservation. I'd rather she speak freely or scream at me than ignore me.
My eyes slide to meet Lupe's gaze and thankfully she's not looking at me any differently. If anything, I sense pride, or dare I say, approval emanating from her. When she winks at me, my suspicions are confirmed that at least one of these mighty women isn't cross with me.
I jut my chin toward Dona Otero, sparking a non-verbal conversation with Lupe about how deep of shit I'm in.
Lupe rolls her eyes and gently nudges her elbow against Otero's arm. The Dona’s face is marred with wrinkles, as if all of her thoughts have seeped out of her brain and spilled onto her forehead.
She glares at Lupe who nods her head toward me, spurring the matriarch to finally look my way.
In silence, we hold one another's stare. I want so badly to avert my gaze, but I stand firm. If I cower now, she will know I regret my night with Remus and I don't.
Holy hell, I don't regret it.
The realization is just now hitting me. I enjoyed him. And if I knew Dona Otero wouldn't shove my ass on her fastest ship and send me off to some remote city, I'd still be in his bed right now initiating another round.
A sigh escapes Dona Otero's lips, the tension in her shoulders release, and she reclines comfortably against the velvet tufted bench. "Do you intend to hurt him?"
Her question is not what I expect, and it takes me a second to process her words. "Do I intend to hurt him?"
"He does not typically entertain women the way he entertained you last night," she says bluntly and instead of my heart sinking, the treacherous organ rejoices.
"I want to ensure you do not intend to break his heart.
I need Remus at his best and distractions of any kind, no matter how tempting or enjoyable, would be devastating to our cause. "
I stiffen and straighten my back to appear taller. "I don't intend to hurt him." And I mean it. "But it doesn't mean I won't."
She cracks the slightest smile and the frown lines stretching across her forehead smooth. "I have to admit, I admire your candor."
"So," I draw the word out, hoping to get a read on her, "you're not angry with me?"
"Angry with you?" Surprise sparks in her face and she chuckles. "No, mi querida, I'm not angry with you. I was a young woman in love once too. I understand the urges."
"Hold on," I shoot my hand up in protest. "I'm not in love."
She and Lupe exchange a heavy glance before they both break out into laughter. I frown, crossing my arms over my chest like a child not getting her way. "What is so damn funny?"
"Nothing, mi querida." Otero waves me off as she takes her handkerchief and dabs at the corners of her eyes. "Nothing at all."
I roll my eyes knowing demanding answers from Otero would be comparable to arguing with a statue. I won't be gleaning anymore from her on the matter. As we pull up in front of the Otero Estate, Lupe leans forward and whispers, "I hope you're ready."
"Ready for what?" All I want is to sink into my bed and sleep for a few more hours, but I should have known that wasn't going to happen.
"Another ball, of course." Lupe winks. "Maybe tonight we'll finally get that proposal from the Murrieta boy."
"Right," I sigh. All I have to do is pretend he's Remus and I'll secure a proposal easily.
Tonight's gown might be my favorite so far.
It's a cream, off-the-shoulder dress that hugs my hips and sinches my waistline with the help of a corseted back.
Red and gold trim outlines the three voluminous ruffled tiers of the skirt flaring out at my knees.
Red roses with vibrant green leaves are stitched around the layers spicing up the tame color of the dress.
Finishing my look are a bold red lip, kohl around my eyes, and a red rose in my hair so fresh it looks like I plucked it from the garden moments before arriving.
Dona Otero forgoes this event, claiming the host and her do not see eye-to-eye, but something deep within me screams in warning that she is withholding her true evening plans from me.
I remind myself it's probably best if I don't know every aspect of their operation if I'm caught and interrogated.
I know I can keep my mouth shut, but under the duress of torture and the promise of relief, even the strongest of soldiers might falter and succumb.
So instead of pestering her, hoping to glean the truth, I permit her lie to stand as gospel and take the carriage down the street to Don Alejandro Marin's estate on the southeast edge of the Golden District.
His house is impressive, although I've come to realize Dona Otero's estate is the one all others covet.
As soon as I enter the courtyard where all the dancing and mingling is taking place, the crier announces my arrival, and I descend the grand staircase and integrate into high society.
Meaningless conversations with other Dons and Donas occupy my time until I hear Don Rafael's name bellowed.
Ladies varying in ages from freshly eighteen all the way to elderly abandon what they're doing to admire and ogle him.
All of them desperately want him, but he only craves me.
Dangerous. What a dangerous thought to have.
I, too, can't help but watch as he descends.
His scarlet suit catches my eye, and I allow myself the opportunity to lazily examine every inch of him.
A black ascot pokes out from beneath his black dress shirt and pops of gold in his broach and jewelry complete his jaw dropping outfit.
I'm not sure if I prefer him dressed in Don Rafael's finery or donning the mask of Remus Salvador Kane. Perhaps I prefer him naked.
Shit, Ines. I silently scold myself. Pull yourself together. Your eyes should be on only one man tonight and that's –
"Don Severo Murrieta and Don Rogelio Murrieta!" The crier announces shortly after Remus' entrance.
Rogelio scans the crowded room, overstimulation flooding his eyes, but the second he spots me, he smiles, and all worry seems to melt from him. He circumvents all others seeking his attention and beelines for me, taking my hand in his and planting a kiss to my knuckles the moment he reaches me.
"Good evening, Elena," he murmurs against my hand. "You look stunning."
"Good evening, Rogelio," I grin, dipping into a rehearsed curtsey. "You are far too kind to me."
"Would you care for a drink?" He releases me and motions to a table at the edge of the room.
"I would love one."
Arm in arm, we make our way to the table filled with drinks and delicious food. As Rogelio offers me a glass of red wine, I hear a very loud and familiar voice boom across the ballroom.
Swiveling in the direction of the voice, I spot Senor Montenegro, surrounded by a gaggle of men, including Remus and Don Severo. The rotund lord is rocking back and forth on his heels, a holier-than-thou expression smeared across his sunspot riddled face.
"Who is that?" I ask Rogelio, hoping to manipulate him into escorting me closer.
Rogelio groans and rolls his eyes once he sees Montenegro and whispers, "That is Senor Pablo Montenegro. He's one of the many spice traders in Orlencia but if you ask me, he's a pompous ass who enjoys the sound of his own voice."
I snicker, nearly spitting wine out of my mouth.
"Apologies," he says quickly, blushing. "Sometimes I say things out loud when they should remain in my head."
"Don't apologize. I find your candor refreshing." I smile, reassuring him. "Would you care to introduce us?"
"You want to meet Senor Montenegro?" He quirks a curious brow, attempting to read into my motivation.
"My Tia informed me he utilizes Otero ships to move his merchandise and if I'm not mistaken, he purchases Lozano olives. I'd like to meet one of our vendors since I'm going to be taking over the family business one day."
My explanation seems to check out in Rogelio's mind and without hesitation he offers me his arm and leads me toward the man I intend to kill.
As we approach, I overhear my enemy recounting his harrowing tale of surviving the Brogratto Burglar attempting to steal his valuables.
Two things about his story intrigue me. The fact after several months he's still thinking of me is flattering because I think of him often too.
But my thoughts include what a slash across his neck would look like.
And second, it's laughable he believes his shitty trinkets are worth more than a few coppers in the Market District.
I thought him living in the Golden District meant wealth beyond measure, but all it really means is he spends his earnings on booze, gambling, and women instead of properly furnishing his home.
It finally clicks in my head why he isn't hosting any events this season.
"I'm just glad that filth is off the streets," Montenegro's voice slices through my thoughts as Rogelio and I close the gap. "In my opinion, we should blow up the bridges that connect Orlencia to the Brogratto and be done with them. Let them kill each other or rot, I say."
"Other than a burglary, have the poor from the Brogratto caused you any true harm?" I ask and ten pairs of eyes dart to settle on me and my handsome escort. I refuse to meet Remus' amused look, keeping my eyes on Montenegro.
He sputters and his cheeks redden in anger or embarrassment, I'm not entirely sure, nor do I care. "That question borders on impertinent," he squawks.
"On the contrary," I say sweetly, relishing the fact I'm already under his sensitive skin, "I believe my question is merely steeped in curiosity."
"Whether I was harmed or not does not matter." He says with self-righteous indignation. "A crime is a crime."
I nod. "I agree, Senor. Crime is crime." I take a long sip of my wine, enjoying the hold I already have over the group. "Perhaps if the less fortunate received better food, supplies, and housing – "