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Carlos: Good. Want to grab lunch?
Me: No time today. Raincheck?
Carlos: Sure thing, hermano.
I can't meet my brother for lunch, because I already have plans to eat elsewhere. I pull up my phone and watch the tracking device I planted under Mateo’s car this morning. He was running errands, checking on one of his father’s many businesses, and I'm curious to see where else he'll be going–if I got his schedule figured out as much as I think I do. Sure enough, he meets his mother for lunch at some bistro downtown. I park across the street and don't let either of them notice me walk in, keeping a safe distance behind them the whole time.
Mateo sits at a table in the front of the restaurant and I keep low in a booth in the back, eating my sandwich slowly. His mother and him are deep in conversation and he barely touches his food, his expression unreadable the whole time but his eyes giving his misery away. He stares off somewhere else as if he's pretending to be anywhere but where he is. I don't take my eyes off him the whole time, noting every time he moves his hands or opens his mouth. Studying every blink and fake smile.
I always follow my targets weeks ahead, getting to know them better. I know Mateo’s day-to-day activities by now. It helps that he is very predictable. I scarf down my potato chips while I watch him head for the bathroom. His mother is too busy on her phone to see me walk in behind him. I leave a rose by one of the sinks in a place it'll stand out before walking out. Exiting the restaurant, I return to my car and don't drive off until they do. Maybe today will be the day he goes somewhere different for a change. Somewhere alone.
Every time I watch him, he never wears the face of a man who is happy. There is light missing in his eyes. He looks trapped and lost. I am ready to be that light so I can slowly rip it away and send him straight into darkness. He will become mine, and he will beg for my touches like a needy whore. He will learn to love it and then he will learn to hate me. By the time that happens, it will be too late. I will already have what I want. There will be no marriage, no alliance, and no one to take the place of Miguel Juventino.
The Moraleses will no longer be in his corner, and he will be left weak and vulnerable after losing his son and the support of one of the largest crime bosses. He doesn’t have another kid he could marry into the Morales family. This wedding is his last hope. His enemies are multiplying and his wall of security is slowly falling. He doesn't know I've been behind a lot of it.
I drive around for what feels like forever, watching Mateo go to place after place with his mother. Him storming out of a cake shop catches my interest. Knowing I could use his anger to my benefit, I continue to follow him back to his house. Why would he come back here if he felt trapped and angry? Wouldn’t he run off somewhere else? Maybe I was just hoping he would. But he never does. Why would today be any different?
Bringing him more into focus in my binoculars, I watch as he rushes inside after signaling the driver to keep the car running. Maybe my little princesa is getting away for a bit after all. Exactly like Rapunzel, curious to have a taste of the outside world and ready to break free from his tower.
That’s it, little princesa. Run away from your prison and away from the safety of your father’s guards. Do something reckless.
The sky goes dark as I follow Mateo’s car down a backroad heading into town. I perk up when his driver stops in front of a brand new club with bright blue and purple lights that make the front entrance blinding. There is a long line pouring out the door, but someone like Mateo would never have to wait in one. All he has to do is tell them who he is.
I park the car and walk to the front of the line. I am friends with the owner and will have no trouble getting in either, but I'll wait until he goes inside first. He stands on the sidewalk staring up at the lights, shoving his hands in his pockets.
That's it. Go inside.
He turns around, searching for the car that’s already gone. Knowing it’s too late to change his mind, he gestures for his guard to wait on the other side of the entrance and walks to the front of the line.
Good boy.
Five
Mateo
The day was dragging, and my mother constantly talked about the wedding, and how beautiful it was going to be. “I thought you would be happier, mijo.”
“Happy about what?”
“For starters, my father would have never allowed me to marry another woman.”
I sneer in her direction, shoving away the slices of cake she keeps making me try. “Is that what you think? Sticking me with just any man would make me happy because he has a dick? “
“Language, mijito. I’m just saying times have changed. Your father is being very accommodating, considering it’s still something seen as against tradition.”
I stand from the chair. “Look, do whatever you want with the wedding. I don’t care. I don’t even wanna be in it, but I'm going to be, because it’s important to the family. Maybe you should be the ones who are more appreciative.”
Before she can stop me, I storm out the front door of the bakery. I’m glad to be away from the smell of flower arrangements and lemon and vanilla. It reminds me how real this all is. I'll soon walk down the aisle with the man I hate most in this world, and he’s not even the worst part. His family is the definition of vindictive. The more I am around them, the closer I feel to hell.
My father may have been a bad person, and Santiago may have been a monster, but Vincent Morales is the devil himself. I slip into the back of the car, yelling at the driver to take me home. I need to get dressed into something else. Something that doesn’t have me smelling like frosting and my mother’s awful perfume. An outfit my mother didn't suggest I wear today.
My fingers slip between the openings of the button down and I rub the tips over the silk wrapping around my torso with the need to feel something pretty to help forget all the ugly around me. What I wear under my clothes is also another freedom I'd never let them take from me. It was also a part of myself I never wanted to forget existed. I hated having to hide it and occasionally allowed a little bit of the truth to peek through my clothes, hoping no one would notice enough to care.
If I could burn all these fancy suits that took up most of my closet, I would. How many masks would I acquire until they finally owned me?
The minute I’m home, I rush off to my room and yell at the driver to wait in the car. I never take too long to get ready. The thing that took the most time was putting on my corset, but I would only be changing my outer clothing right now, not ready to take a break from the comforting pressure and small boost of confidence it gives.
I put on a new shirt, making sure it’s loose enough to cover what’s hiding underneath. The lighter weight of the material allows my skin to breathe easier than the heavy suit jacket. I slide on a pair of black slacks to match the white dress shirt and fix my hair until I’m satisfied with my reflection. My shoe kicks at something on the floor as I'm walking back toward my closet and I pick up the rose that must have fallen out of my jacket. I got a new one today. It was left in the bathroom of the bistro I ate at with my mother. He was there. I should be scared but instead I was beaming on the inside when I saw the evidence of his short visit waiting for me. Does this mean I'll get another?
