Page 12 of No Darker Temptation

I stare at my bloodstained hands and the caved in skull beside me.

Diego appears somber as he says, “Wasn’t he Doda’s nephew?”

Don Rubin smiles like he just remembered it’s his birthday tomorrow. “He is, isn’t he?”

I expel a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Fuck.”

“He’s out of control,” Diego tells our sister. His blue-eyed stare cuts a clear path in my direction. “He’s lucky Don Rubin’s taking the fall. If anyone ever found out it was Alejandro who killed Alban Marki, we’d be fucked.”

We’re in the living room in the apartment above El Aliciente, Pedro sitting cross legged on the floor as he types away on his laptop, Dimitrio and Beni doing surveillance by the windows, and Oscar positioned at the door as if his life depends on it. Doña Ana’s in the kitchen boiling water for tea I won’t drink while Lettie bandages up my hands.

“I lost my temper. I’m fine⁠—”

Lettie yanks on the bandage around my hand and I wince. “You are not fine. Either pull yourself together or I’m calling Tia Leticia.”

Calling Tia Leticia is the equivalent of being sent to the principal’s office. Abuelo may still technically be in charge of our family but he’s halfway to retirement. It’s our aunt, the family’s de facto matriarch, I need to worry about. When Mom left, she took on the role of mother for Diego, Lettie, and me and she won’t hesitate to put anyone in their place.

She’s also meddlesome, invasive, bossy, and authoritative. Tia Leticia and Lettie share more than just a name—they share entire personalities.

I know I took it too far with Alban Marki but I don’t know what came over me. I just started hitting him and couldn’t stop and by the time I finally did it was too late.

“Maybe we should send him to see Mom,” Lettie whispers to our brother.

“Absolutely not,” I grind out.

“We know you found her. In the Rio Grande house.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Maybe it’d be a good idea.”

There’s a reason I didn’t go straight to Mom when I found out where she was a few weeks ago. I don’t think I can face her, not after so many years and certainly not at a time like this.

“What exactly do you think seeing Mom will accomplish? Do you think I need a babysitter?”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. “But maybe it’ll calm you the fuck down.”

Diego turns to address the others. “Can you guys give us the room please?”

Dimitrio is the first one to move. “I’ll wait outside. The rest of you,” he gestures to the door, “go finish up downstairs.”

Diego waits for the room to clear before closing the apartment door. Just then, Doña Ana appears from the kitchen and puts a tray on the coffee table across from us. “Como te sientes?” She presses a hand against my forehead as if to check my temperature.

“Estoy bien.” I give her a tight smile. “No te preocupes.”

She quirks a brow as if she doesn’t believe me. I’m not sure what I look like to her—bruised, tired, ill, maybe—but when she and Lettie exchange glances, she takes that as her cue to leave. When it’s just the three of us in the room, Diego sits down on the couch across from me and says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Lettie finishes tying the bandages around my knuckles and I flex my fingers, hissing as they ache. “This hurts like a bitch.”

“You’ll survive,” Diego says. “Which is more than I can say about Alban Marki.”

I lift my gaze to find he’s already looking at me.

“Don Rubin said he would take care of it.”

“And do you think that was wise? To owe Don Rubin a favor knowing the precarious state we’re in?”

“I don’t need a fucking handler, Diego. I’m more than capable of running this family⁠—”

“Because you’ve been doing such a great job of it as of late?” he snaps in retaliation.