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But am I ready for that move?
“Do you think it’s time?” I ask Juan, hoping to hear some advice against it. The answer is already clear to me, but my advisor is older and wiser, and if I can delay this decision for a little longer by making him express even the slightest amount of hesitation, then I’m all for it. Who wants to uproot their entire way of living so suddenly?
“Yes, it’s time.” Juan is clearly ready to pull the trigger, but it’s not his life that will change so drastically.
Oh, well, so are the responsibilities of a king. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. I didn’t get here by only making easy choices.
“Very well,” I sneer. “It’s what needs to be done.”
“Good,” Juan responds, and I can already hear him typing up his emails. “... But I don’t think the charity stuff is enough. You need to show off something more than just your unbridled generosity.”
Fuck. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to transition so fast. I know all about where Juan’s going with this line of thought, and I like it even less than becoming famous. “What does that mean?” I ask, just trying to draw out my last breaths of freedom.
“It means you need to appear relatable to the average citizen,” he confirms. “As it stands, you are instantly going to become known as a young, mysterious, self-made, hot-shot billionaire playboy with a heart of gold. Sure, that may win you a bunch of young fans, but young people are broke and bereft of influence. We need the middle-aged and the old on our side, and they like families—or, at least, potential families.”
“You’re saying I need to settle down?” I snort. Imagine that. No more staying out all night for work. No more brawls. No more long motorcycle rides just to blow off steam. No more fun.
“Only in appearance. Do you still have that girl?”
Fuck. “I’m not sure she’s exactly ‘future-wife’ material,” I immediately respond, unsure of whether or not it’s the truth.
“No, she’s perfect,” Juan confidently retorts. “She was invited to that gala you crashed for a reason, Angel. She’s got that perfect blend of beauty and intelligence, elegance and relatability. She was meant to be a politician’s wife, but instead, she’ll be yours.”
“Elegant!?” I can’t help but laugh. I’ve barely known Catalina for more than two days already and it’s crystal clear to me that she’s anything but elegant. Beautiful? Sure. Intelligent? In her own fiery way, maybe. Relatable? Who knows... But elegant!? Ha!
“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t,” Juan brushes my concern off. “What she actually is hardly matters, Angel. This is all about appearances. What I’m saying is that she looks the part, like a movie-made queen, your queen; the queen who will make the public think you’re a benevolent king. Understand?”
“Of course, I understand,” I growl back. “But Catalina’s not going to go for that shit.”
“And you’re going to give her a choice?”
The sun is down by the time I get back to my building.
I hop in the elevator, still on the phone with Juan, revising our master plan. “How’s Dante going to fit into all of this?” I ask, knowing full well that my cruel brother could screw everything up in an instant if we let him.
“We’ll figure that out as we go,” Juan sighs. “Your brother is becoming more and more of a wildcard every day.”
“How is he?” I ask, unable to neglect my brother’s well-being. Sure, nowadays he may piss me off more than he doesn’t, but I always look out for those I care about, even if I have to knock some sense into them every once in a while.
“I haven’t seen him since your incident with him the other night,” Juan says, suddenly sounding very distracted. I imagine he only wants to focus on business, and not get bogged down in all these increasingly common family squabbles. “A small motorcade left the compound a few hours after midnight. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dante decided to go on another globe-trotting vacation to get his mind off of things.”
I can’t help but huff at that. “Get his mind off of what? He doesn’t do any work around here.”
“I’m sure he has his own troubles, Angel,” Juan assures me.
“He better,” I growl, before finding some sympathy for my troubled brother. A heavy sigh works its way out of my lungs. The will to fight is still bubbling just beneath my surface, but I hate being angry at Dante. It just doesn’t feel right. “I just wish I could get through to him again, like I used to be able to in the old days. He just doesn’t listen anymore. There’s so much anger and rage and envy inside of him that it’s like talking to a loaded gun.”
“Sound familiar?” Juan chuckles.
“Hey, at least I have some self-control,” I shoot back. The elevator doors ding open and I’m immediately in no mood to talk business anymore. “I’m back at my place,” I hint.
“Yeah,” Juan responds. “I’ll get these emails off. You think you’ll be alright with the girl?” I’m not sure I appreciate his jeer.
“You just worry about what you have to do,” I tell him, stoking the fire still boiling behind my chest. “I’ll handle Catalina, one way or another.”
“Good luck!” Juan teases, before hanging up.
I toss my phone onto the kitchen counter and scan the living room for my hostage. She’s noticeably absent. I’m hardly worried that she’s escaped, though. No one escapes from one of my buildings; they’ve all been put to the test countless times before.
