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"Unfinished business?" I inquire, curiosity piqued.
Viktor's grin is enigmatic. "Let's just say we've forged a new alliance to ensure smoother operations from here on out."
Satisfied, I nod. "I trust you."
The moment's gravity shifts as we prepare to leave. "I hear there's to be a wedding, but the groom seems absent," I quip, attempting to lighten the mood.
Gabriel chuckles, engaging in the banter. "Missing? He's not getting cold feet, is he?"
Diego's playful jab comes with a laugh. "Let's get you back and cleaned up so I can return to my wife and daughter."
Gabriel adds, "Besides, you know this isn't over. You'll be doing this all over again in Mexico. Bella and Inés won't stand being left out of the festivities."
Their jests, a much-needed reprieve from the stress, remind me of the family Pia is joining—my family. "Of course," I affirm, my heart set on ensuring everything is perfect for Pia and us. As we return to the vehicles, I look forward to our future. To our new home in the Philippines that will see many visits for Pia, La Serpiente Dorada, and the new chapter we're about to begin together.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pia
Reflecting on my unsuccessful attempts to persuade Don Antonio to let me visit Batangas, my phone ringing abruptly interrupting my thoughts. It's Joshua, Marco's right-hand man. Before I can even utter a greeting, he dives straight into the reason for his call.
"Your father's been badly wounded. We're taking him to a nearby private hospital. Your guards will take you there." Joshua's voice is firm, cutting through my daze.
"How bad is it?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I can't say," he replies shortly. "Marco's fine," he adds, preempting my next question.
"My brother?" But he doesn't know; he left with my father. The call ends abruptly, leaving me to spring into action, though my heart feels like it's being squeezed tight.
Sensing my distress, Don Antonio inquires, "What's going on?"
I quickly explain, "My father's been injured. I need to go to him." The words feel heavy, each one a reminder of the uncertain danger of this lifestyle.
Rushing upstairs, I grab a tote bag, throwing in a change of clothes, some basic toiletries, and my phone charger—practical items for a potentially long wait at the hospital. Returning downstairs, Don Antonio is ready, determined to accompany me. I nod, my mind whirling, as we head to the SUV.
Gazing out the window, I am transported back to my childhood. Memories flood in like a raging river, washing over me with intensity. Once, I was the apple of my father's eye, cherished and adored. But that all changed when my mother deemed such affection inappropriate. In hindsight, I understand it was rooted in jealousy. Dialing the number for my family home, I feel my heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and determination. My mother answers the phone, her voice sharp and cutting.
"Inay," I start, using the traditional Filipino term for mother, "Tay is in the hospital. I'm on my way there." Her response is swift and brutal, a torrent of accusations and insults hurled at me without mercy. Yet, amidst her rage and vitriol, a truth is revealed that shatters my world into pieces: "You're not my daughter. You're the child of one of Don Angelo's mistresses. He brought you to me because your real mother died in childbirth."
The weight of her words hits me like a ton of bricks, leaving me reeling and gasping for air. A profound emptiness expands within me as I absorb this new reality. But despite it all, I find a calmness within myself that I didn't know existed as I respond. "It all makes sense now. Goodbye, Mrs. Mendoza." The deliberate omission of “Doña”—the traditional title for a woman of high status—from her name is my final act of rebellion and defiance. With those words, it feels like I have severed any ties that bound us together as a family.
As I end the call, Don Antonio, having overheard, offers his silent support and takes my hand. "It's all right. You're a Cervantes now," he reassures me.
A smile finds its way through my tears as I turn back to the window, contemplating the lies that have woven the fabric of my life. Amidst the revelations and betrayals, I find a strange sense of liberation. No longer bound by the shadows of a past that was never truly mine, I look forward to the future—a future as a Cervantes.
A sense of urgency overtakes us as the SUV stops in front of the hospital. Marco's constantly vigilant guards form a protective circle around the vehicle as Don Antonio and I leave. The hospital's sterile atmosphere does little to calm the storm of emotions raging within me.
Joshua meets us, his expression grim but controlled. "Don Angelo is in surgery," he informs us without preamble. "The surgeon will update us as soon as there's any news." Though steady, his voice carries an undercurrent of concern that mirrors my anxieties.
He and Darrel lead the way, guiding us through the maze of hospital corridors to a private waiting room reserved for us. This privacy is a small mercy, a space to collect our thoughts and fears away from the prying eyes of the hospital's other occupants.
Once inside, Don Antonio and my personal guards position themselves discreetly, a silent promise of security in these uncertain times. With its soft chairs and muted lighting, the room feels both comforting and oppressive, a limbo where time seems to stretch and compress simultaneously.
Settling into a chair, I find myself lost in thought, the day's revelations and the concern for my father's well-being weaving a tight knot in my chest. The waiting begins, a test of patience and resilience as we cling to hope amidst the shadows of doubt and fear.
Time seems to stand still yet rushes forward, a peculiar sensation of waiting and moving. It's been nearly an hour when the door opens and the surgeon steps in. Instantly, Don Antonio and I are on our feet, anticipation and dread mingling in the air.
As the surgeon starts to detail the extent of my father's injuries and bullet wounds that brought him to the brink, Marco and his brothers enter. Marco is immediately by my side, his hand finding mine in a gesture of silent support. I close my eyes for a brief moment as I inhale deeply to savor the strength his presence lends me.
