The thought still feels strange.
Ignacio smiles. Not the cold smile I'd expected. And it’s warmer than I’d been expecting. He’s really not anything I thought he would be. I had been expecting a menacing drug lord. One with a scar across his face and skull rings on his fingers.
He’s nothing like that. He actually looks normal and non-threatening. Although I’m sure that’s all a façade.
"Pasa, mi estrella,” he says, beckoning for me to come.
My star.
The endearment catches me off guard.
His smile widens.
"I can tell you are overwhelmed but not to worry. We’ll take things slow."
I force myself to smile back.
Part of me wants to. The other part is still standing in that warehouse. Still staring at dark eyes that looked at me as though I'd ripped his heart from his chest.
I push the thought away and I follow Ignacio inside.
The entrance hall looks like that of a hotel. Polished floors stretch beneath my feet. A sweeping staircase curves upward and paintings line the walls.
Fresh flowers sit atop tables. Everywhere I look, there's evidence of wealth and luxury. It’s intimidating as hell. People in uniforms stand against the walls, guards, others walk pasttaking care of one thing or the other in the house. Some stand a couple feet away from us, hanging on Ignacio’s word and waiting for orders.
"Your room is upstairs," he says to me. “But before that, there's someone you should meet."
I follow him through the house. The deeper we go, the more nervous I become. Eventually we enter a study.
A man rises from behind a desk. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He’s tall with broad shoulders and younger than I'd expected. Early thirties perhaps. And he looks exactly like our father.
His gaze lands on me. Evaluating. Careful. It’s not unfriendly but it’s definitely not welcoming.
"This is Santiago."
Your brother.
The word sends a strange ache through me.
I spent my entire life believing all I had was my mother. Now suddenly, I have family appearing from every direction.
Santiago studies me for several long seconds. Then nods once.
"Liliana."
His voice is polite. Nothing more.
"Hi."
Awkward silence follows before Ignacio sighs dramatically.
“I hope the two of you will get along, Santi. Liliana is your little sister after all,” he states.
"Up until a couple of days ago she was nothing but a stranger."
I wince.
At least he's honest. And he’s right. This entire situation is bizarre. I have no clue how to feel or navigate it.
