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CHAPTER 29
Diego
“Remind me again how the fuck you didn’t know Sabrina was the daughter of Emmanuel’s goddaughter.” I had my hands so tightly gripped around the steering wheel that my knuckles were white. “You fucking knew him for years.”
“I already told you that until I trained with Emmanuel prior to coming to America, I never went to his house. Even then I was kept in the soldiers’ compound, not the man’s estate. Remember, I did walk the straight and narrow when I lived in South America,” Dante huffed from beside me.
“That’s almost not good enough.”
We’d made the decision to allow Michael the opportunity to drop out of the presidential race to avoid the potential scandal. Then we’d laid out a plan for how to handle the crew in Alaska. The cruise ship had disembarked hours after the attack on Sabrina at my direction, which had given the mayor and his buddies possible advance notice that we were onto them.
Not that I cared.
There wasn’t a single location on this planet they could run and hide. They would suffer for days if necessary in order for us to learn the men and women at the helm of the Death Squad. That was coming but first things first.
“Well, it’s going to need to be, brother,” he threw at me as I continued driving. We’d returned to LA to handle the beginning of the end game, Ivan and Juan keeping watch over my beloved. Carina was safely tucked away, protected as well, which allowed us to feel damn good about what we were preparing to do.
To start the domino effect.
I’d sent Jacob ahead to keep watch on our presidential candidate. Fortunately, he was home alone, his wife on a lovely trip to San Antonio with her friends. That would reduce the need for collateral damage. After all, she wasn’t to blame for the fact that her husband was a monster in disguise, the photographs I’d amassed proof.
As if his alliance with the Death Squad wasn’t, or the fact that he’d forced his only son to leave the woman he’d been in love with. If what I suspected was true, Margarite had been murdered by the senator’s men in retaliation. I would get it out of the man one way or the other.
“Incidentally, what did our father give you?” he asked, his voice shifting into teasing mode. He knew how much I hated it when he used the term of endearment. Although on this day, it didn’t anger me as much as usual.
Perhaps because what he’d told me had been heartfelt. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small velvet box I’d secured, glancing over quickly before handing it to him.
When he opened it, he whistled. “Gorgeous piece.”
“It belonged to our mother.”
I sensed a moment of tension before he chuckled. “An engagement ring.”
“The one Emmanuel was never able to give her. Or at least she didn’t accept it years ago.”
“It’s beautiful. Let me guess why he offered it to you.”
“Does that anger you, brother? If it does, I’ll purchase one instead.”
The strange moment of silence wasn’t awkward, just a moment to allow the past and present to collide, the concept of the future entirely different than I’d anticipated.
“You don’t need my permission, brother. You found the right woman and I will be honored for Sabrina to wear the ring. As long as I’m your goddamn best man.”
He could make me laugh like almost no one else. I was thankful for the closeness, the time we’d been able to spend together. Had it made up for lost time? Only to a small degree but I knew that would change in the coming years.
Because we’d share our families together.
Great. Now I was thinking like some sappy holiday movie. As I nestled the ring back in my jacket pocket, I thought about how best to propose to her.
She’d seemed odd this morning, even after we’d shared several other rounds of passion the night before, including dinner in bed. Perhaps it was simply that the charade was coming to an end. Her last words?
They weren’t to be careful but to make my choices of how I handled the situation wisely. She was an astute woman, realizing that I would always be walking that thin line of right versus wrong, but I would never allow that to compromise her morals.
Mine had already been dropped in a dumpster shell.
As I pulled down the finely manicured street in Beverly Hills where Senator Crawford lived, I couldn’t manage to erase from my mind all the horrors my soon to be bride had suffered. I honestly couldn’t imagine everything she’d been through.
And part of the reason was the man who would soon face my wrath.
