Page 148 of Damián

“Thanks, Malena, but I know the way.”

I walk down the long, creepy hallway. The dark paneled walls are lined with weird-ass English oil paintings of dead rich people and their weird dogs.

Seriously, who decorated this place? It’s so creepy, I feel like I am in line to get into the Tower of Terror ride.

Madre mía… I hate this place.

I reach the doors of the main office and push them open without knocking.

Oliver is sitting behind his father’s desk, looking at some paperwork with Silvio and Franco while two other men are stationed on each side of the office.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snap.

Oliver looks up and smiles, “Hi, babe!”

“Don’t ‘hi, babe’ me. When were you going to tell me?”

Oliver closes the folder of papers he was working with and makes a hand gesture. “Everyone out.”

The henchmen immediately nod and walk out the door. And even though I am angry at him, wow… that boss move was soo hot.

“Silvio,” Oliver calls out, and Silvio stops, looking back over his shoulder. “Not a soul goes past the first hallway.”

“Yes, sir.” Silvio leaves, shutting the door behind him.

Oliver leans back in the boss’s chair… which I guess is his chair now.

“Don’t worry. Silvio is on our side now.”

“From what I’ve heard, everyone is on your side now.” I glare at him from where I am standing.

“You seem angry…”

“Wow, mi cielo, your power of intuition is so fucking accurate.”

“What was I supposed to do? Wait?”

“Yes! We are so close to closing this thing.” I hiss, lowering my voice. “Why the hell did you take the throne?!”

“So Rafael wouldn’t!… He was getting close, Dami.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. What the hell can I tell him when I know he is right?

“Fuck,” I mutter, as I pace the length of the room. “This changes everything, Oliver. You won’t just have issues with Rafael or finding intel; you have now gone international.”

“I know…”

“Every fucking drug lord, cartel boss, and trafficker out there is going to react to this. Some will want to maintain the deals they had with your father, others will walk away, and a lot of them will try to kill you.”

“Dami—”

“No, Oliver, I’m serious.” I pace harder, my chest tight enough to snap my super sore ribs. “No offense, but you look like a sweet little angel. Do you have any idea how many people have been waiting for Elijah to step down just so they can strike?”

“Many?”

“¡Un chingo!”

Oliver’s brow furrows in confusion. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means…”