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With a brow arched, I place the device closer to Quintero’s mouth. “Now is the time to play nice with me, Matias. Let’s not start this relationship off on the wrong foot.”
“Fuck you,” he spits out, the spittle hitting my pant leg. Disgusting. “I’ll never—” Two guns are placed on opposite sides of his temple, effectively shutting him up. Solimar makes a small noise from her place beside me, not in fear but surprise, while gripping the back of my dress shirt. I try to shield her from his line of sight, but his mouth doesn’t take the hint. “You’re going to allow this criminal to treat your father this way while manhandling you like a whore? To abuse my right, daughter?”
It’s the wrong thing for him to say.
Every person here knows that.
However, I stand my ground and let the fiery beauty beside me unleash years of pent-up anger. In a flash, Solimar’s in his face with her hand poised back and high. The hatred coming off her delicate skin sears me, but the sound of her hand connecting with his flesh is therapeutic for both of us.
For her—because she releases the hurt.
For me—because I get to help her through these emotions.
She doesn’t stop at one or two—five harsh smacks land across his face and a bare-knuckle punch leaves behind a broken nose and a slightly swollen hand. My Preciosa is breathing hard, towering over the man who’s hurt them over and over again.
“Hate is a strong word, but nowhere near enough for how much I despise you.” Tears gather at her eyes and a few spill, but still I don’t jump in. I’m here if she needs me, but will always support and encourage her to face her demons. “You’re a lousy husband, a pitiful father, and a waste of space on the earth. If I ever see you again, it’ll be too soon.”
“I’m the pathetic one?” He barks out a laugh and then spits on the floor. Blood from his nose has slipped past his lips and coats his tongue. “He doesn’t love you and never will. Alejandro Lucas is using you to get to me and will drop you once I’m gone.”
“Why would I leave my wife?”
“W-what?” he sputters, chest beginning to heave. “You married this son of a bitch!”
A solid kick to the chest is my rebuttal to the insult. It sends him sprawling back, and he hurts his hand as he catches his weight on it. “Not yet, but you’re personally invited to the nuptials tomorrow at ten.”
That sends him into a fit of rage while the guards drag him away. He’s cursing. Threatening.
The staff doesn’t move to help him or ask us what’s going on. Instead, it’s business as usual with a special event taking place the next morning.
A throat clears, and I look down at my phone. “Did you get all that?”
“That’s a presidential pardon if I’ve ever heard one. Miss Quintero, we appreciate your clear head in handling a delicate situation while your father has fallen ill. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.”
“Gracias.” She shaken but not backing down. Her chin is up and head held high. Her eyes are watery but at peace. “I apologize for the mix-up and wrongful arrest of my brother-in-law.”
“He’ll be released right away.” I can make out my brother’s voice in the background asking for a cigar and shot of Aguardiente before facing his wife.
“Thank you.”
“Congratulations to you both, Patrones.”
34
SOLIMAR’S WALKING TOWARD me dressed in white.
She’s a timeless beauty and a sweetness so pure that I ache in her mere presence. The satin dress with Swarovski beading across the sweetheart neckline is her something new: a pretty little number her mother had in the back of a closet and never wore, but saved for her. It’s tight across the bodice, molding over every delicate curve of her skin, while the bottom flares out a tiny bit ending in a miniature train.
And while not a conventional wedding dress, on her it’s perfection.
My little flower looks ethereal as she makes it down the aisle inside a large ballroom on the premises. The same one I kidnapped her from, with many of the same high-ranking members of Colombia’s society in attendance then and now.
They’re watching us and speculating. Murmuring to themselves why the Cortez family and hers is allowing such a union.
How can Quintero run the country and control me?
How could he release Emiliano, who stands beside me as my best man, and fight the war on drugs?
How will he keep their interests on top of every agenda?
