Page 103 of No Merciful Corruption

“You adapted. Bended and did not break,” he says. “My grandson may be the Don of this family but you, Dahlia, are its head.”

I swallow against the tightness in my throat. “I don’t think I am.”

“My grandson has many talents. Diplomacy and fair judgment. At his core he is good and honorable. A man of his word. But he isn’t a thinker. He isn’t a visionary like you are. Why do you think his first attempt at legitimacy failed?” He asks.

“Well, because⁠—”

“Wrong.” He interrupts. “It failed because he did not have you.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

“Alejandro’s instincts are clouded by his own corrupt motivations. He doesn’t want the Ortizes to enter the fold because he feels his power waning. Not because he perceives a real threat.” Abuelo levels me with a look. “You will have to be his instincts now. If this goes the way I suspect it will, then you’ll only have each other to trust. And that is a very dangerous place to be.”

BLACK DAHLIA

Alejandro

“Can you take care of if it?” I ask. “I have a dinner this evening I can’t miss.”

“Depends,” Mauricio replies. “How desperately do you want to get rid of it?”

I tap my fingers against the edge of my desk. Since El Rey’s gambling went legitimate, we’ve been encountering issues with our former clientele, particularly the ones who preferred the way things used to be. If it becomes too much of a headache it may make more sense to sell though I’d rather we didn’t. El Rey was the first project I undertook on my own and I can’t bring myself to sell it for sentimental reasons.

“We could always hold off on meeting with potential buyers for a few weeks,” he reasons. “The interest will still be there.”

I keep the phone pressed against my ear as I remove my glasses. A migraine is starting to take form. “Do you think I should sell?”

“El Rey’s barely been legitimate a full year. Only time will tell.”

“I agree.” I say as the office door opens. “Before I forget, how’s the search for a new office space going?”

Contrary to what Mauricio and the others think, I do value their opinion. And before I commit to renting the space Regina offered, I want to explore my options.

“Good, actually. Hold on, I’ll email you a few pictures.”

I open up my laptop and notice Dahlia closing the office door behind her. She slinks inside with an expression that says she’s up to no good and in a dress she most certainly shouldn’t be wearing to dinner tonight.

I frown and cover the phone’s speaker. “What is that?” I mouth.

She does a full spin. “A dress.”

“Did you get the email?” Mauricio asks.

“I—yes, yes I did. I see it here.” I click on the email but make sure to send Dahlia a disapproving look over the top of my computer screen. “Where is this place?”

“Down by the water. Has a great view and a parking garage.”

The click of Dahlia’s stilettos is absorbed by the rug beneath her feet. She hops onto the edge of my desk and crosses her legs, waiting patiently.

I glare at the rising hemline of her cocktail dress. Satin fabric drapes around her middle and along the low neckline, melting into soft, flimsy sleeves hanging off her shoulders. A slit runs up the side of her right thigh and the deep, garnet color looks like heaven against her olive complexion.

I wave a finger at the dress. “Absolutely not.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “It’s classy.” She whispers.

“It’s provocative.”

She beams. “Thank you!”