Page 58 of Kingpin's Property


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She eyed my right hand warily, and I realized it was still curled in a fist, protecting what was left of my mother’s ring.

I turned my hand and forced my fingers to unfurl, allowing her to see the hunk of shapeless gold on my palm.

“This was my mother’s engagement ring.” The confession rasped from my chest, but I was resolute in my determination to ease Carmen’s fear.

From the very beginning, she’d been suspicious of everything I said, but I’d proven that I could reach her with harsh truths. The fact that I didn’t try to conceal unpleasantness from her was far more convincing than any deception I could have devised.

The truth of my past was ugly, revealing both the chilling extent of my ruthlessness and the shameful weaknesses that I’d worked mercilessly to destroy.

“My father used it to propose to her, but it was her family’s heirloom. It belonged to her, not him.” Talking about Alejandro Duarte left ashes on my tongue, but I continued on. “After he accidentally went too far and beat her to death, it was all I had left of her.”

The first nine years of my life had been marked by my father’s drunken rages and my mother’s forced smiles. She’d tried her best to hide the horrific extent of his violent temper from me, but I lived with it, too. She might have been able to conceal the worst of the bruises from family, friends, and neighbors, but I knew. And I hated Alejandro for it.

I’d hated all of the people who did notice my mother’s injuries but chose to turn a blind eye.

“My father was chief of police in Ciudad Juárez. A pillar of the community and bastion of moral fortitude against the criminal scum that jeopardized peace and public order.” I sneered around the acid in my mouth. “No one asked any questions when his wife died in a mysterious but tragic accident at home. They didn’t give a shit about my mother, because my righteous father kept them all safe.”

My focus had shifted from Carmen to the twisted gold on my palm. I found it easier to face the weakness of the memory it elicited than to look into her fearful eyes.

“I kept this hidden for years, holding on to one piece of her while my father removed all evidence that she had ever existed from our house. One day, when I was sixteen, he tore through my bedroom in a drunken rage, searching for cash I’d earned dealing pot for a local gang.”

The insult of my criminal activities had been a very public spit in his face; I’d made no effort to conceal my crimes. I hadn’t been strong enough then to physically best him, but I could humiliate him. I could destroy the virtuous reputation that he had flaunted to cover up my mother’s murder.

“He found the ring and melted it with a propane torch. That was the day I decided to kill him.”

My gaze snapped back to Carmen’s face. Her gray eyes were still wide, but her features were slack with shock rather than drawn with fear. My blunt presentation of the dark facts about my formative years reached her in a way no flowery apology would ever manage.

“I went to your father, Carmen. I made a deal with Luis Ronaldo that accomplished two triumphs: my powerful position within the Ronaldo Cartel and my father’s death.”

She sucked in a small gasp, apparently naïve of my personal history with her family. Of course, she was well aware that I used to be a key player in their cartel, but she didn’t know how I’d attained my unique position of power at such a young age.

“You would have been about fifteen at the time, so I don’t know if you were aware of what was happening in Juárez.” I prompted her to interject, coaxing her out of her shocked silence.

“Father was at war with the Guzmán Cartel,” she said softly, finally engaging with me. Her tight hold on her knees eased, her protective posture relaxing. “They both wanted to control Juárez as an entry point for trafficking their product into the US. I know it was bloody for several years, but our cartel eventually came out on top.”

I nodded. “That’s because I betrayed my father to Luis Ronaldo. I wasn’t physically strong enough to best Alejandro at that point, but Raúl Guerrero was. He was a member of the gang I’d been dealing for, and your father had recruited that gang in his war with the Guzmán Cartel. I convinced Raúl that if he killed my father, he would be welcomed into the Ronaldo Cartel with me. Once Alejandro was dead, Luis was able to install a new chief of police in his place, a man who accepted Ronaldo bribes and turned the tide of war in his favor.”

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