Page 94 of No Merciful Corruption

“I like that dress.”

“Did you hear a word I just said?”

“How quickly do you think I can get you in and out of it?” I scan the garment for buttons or a zipper. “Do you think before dinner?”

Dahlia attempts to keep her expression neutral, irritated even, but a smile and a blush breaks through. Karina makes exaggerated vomiting noises while Doña Ana lets out a scandalized gasp.

“Ay, joven,” she casts a sideways look in my direction as she clutches her chest.

“Out,” Karina waves her knife in the direction of the exit. “Go be disgusting somewhere else.”

“With pleasure.” I snake an arm around Dahlia’s waist and tuck her against my side, lifting her a few inches off her feet.

“Wait!” She wiggles around in my grasp. “Someone make sure the chicken doesn’t burn!”

I carry her out of the kitchen and only set her down on her feet once we reach the staircase. She laughs softly and wraps her free arm around my waist. We make our way upstairs joined at the hip with her head resting on my shoulder.

“How was your day?” she asks.

“Busy. I wanted your opinion on the layout of the lounge. I think you were right.”

Her jaw drops. “This is my shocked face.”

I ignore her as we enter the apartment. In the beginning, trying to navigate a house this big was torturous, especially in the midst of so many renovations. Hallways became rooms became corridors became closets. Walls were constantly moving and doors kept popping up everywhere. During the most recent renovation a few years ago, Dahlia discovered a number of blocked off staircases and sealed rooms. I’ll never forget the way her eyes lit up with the discovery. In a house this old, every day is an adventure for her. Whenever she encounters old floors or glass windows with their original frames intact, her soul practically ascends to heaven.

Now that we’ve lived here for a number of years, I feel more settled. I know which staircases connect our apartment to the ground floor, basement, and garage and which hallways lead to Diego’s and Karina’s apartments. With all this extra space it’s no wonder she wants Abuelo to move in with us so bad—she probably sees it as a new and exciting demo project.

I open our bedroom door and she steps inside first. I close it behind us and she sits in one of the love seats near the fireplace. The balcony drapes have been drawn and the last tendrils of summer light illuminate the shape of her like a cloud’s silver lining.

Noticing the encroaching darkness she looks around and turns on one of the lamps. She practically burns red and gold in this light, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You and the boys are going to be accessing the second and third floors the most. I thought I’d leave the final decision up to you,” She explains. “But you don’t have much time left to make up your mind. Walls are going up in another week or so and I need time to go over an amended floor plan with the construction team.”

I lean against the dresser and remove my watch. “Is there no way to discreetly hide the kitchen doors without forfeiting the back stairs and bathrooms?”

She chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking. “If we moved the bar…maybe.”

“To where?”

“Where the kitchen doors used to be. I would have to reconfigure the bathrooms and cellar access but it could work. I wasn’t sure if you’d mind where the bar was which is why I didn’t move it before.”

“No, that’s perfect.” I remove my cufflinks next and leave them on a small gold jewelry tray. “Mauricio and Dimitrio suggested getting rid of the apartment all together but I’d prefer not to. Once the lounge is up and running, I want someone living there. Just in case.”

“Just in case?” She echoes. “I hope you don’t plan on keeping any hostages.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Alejandro,” her expression hardens. “Estoy hablando en serio.”

I sigh as I unbutton my shirt.

“You can’t do that kind of thing, not anymore. And most certainly not at the lounge.”

“Be fair. I’ve been exceptionally well-behaved in recent years.”

She crosses her legs and stares at me patiently. I walk over and kneel before her.

“No hostages—willing or otherwise. Te lo prometo.” I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it.