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I pull through the gates of De La Rosa Manor, Santiago De La Rosa’s family home, park my car and walk toward the front door which is already open. A woman is standing just inside.
“Mr. St. James,” she says. “Good morning. This way.”
I walk in and I take in the place. It’s huge and old but very well maintained if a bit dark. I’ve heard rumors about Santiago De La Rosa though. The dark is on purpose. Or it was for many years. After the explosion that killed his father and brother and ruined his face, he became a sort of recluse. Although he wasn’t hiding away licking his wounds. He was, like any good Sovereign Son, plotting his revenge against the Moreno family.
“Elena!” a woman calls out and I see a flash of a little girl running, giggling as the woman comes into view behind her. She doesn’t see me. Her attention is on the baby she’s carrying in one arm as she chases the runaway who can barely be two.
This must be Ivy Moreno. Ivy De La Rosa now. The face of the vengeance Santiago sought against her family. My mind wanders back to my first meeting with Santiago back at the IVI compound. How I’d wondered about the type of woman who could make a proper husband and father out of a man like Santiago De La Rosa.
“Daddy’s working, you naughty girl,” she tells the little girl, catching up with her and hugging her.
The child giggles as Ivy nuzzles her neck.
“Daddy has a few minutes,” Santiago says, stepping out of the shadows. His eyes are on me as he lifts the toddler in one arm and wraps the other possessively around his wife. He kisses the top of the baby’s head and pulls Ivy close.
“I didn’t know anyone was here,” Ivy says, startled at seeing me.
“You had your hands full,” he tells her as I walk toward the family and wonder again at this woman. At how she was able to domesticate a man like him. Because I can see his devotion to her. He didn’t give up his vengeance entirely, though. Did she forgive him for what he did?
“Jericho,” Santiago says once we’re only a few feet away. “Welcome.”
I need to find out more about what happened between the De La Rosa and Moreno families. I want to learn how these two came from hating each other to having a family together. To very clearly loving one another.
I smile to Ivy. “Good morning. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I didn’t. Actually, seeing his family like this has got me off my game. “I’m Jericho St. James,” I tell her, extending a hand.
She looks to her husband who watches me but gives her an almost imperceptible nod. She extends her hand, slipping it into mine.
“Ivy De La Rosa. This is Elena and little Santi,” she says, and I can hear her love for these children in her voice.
The little girl openly studies me, her eyes just like her father’s. There’s nothing shy about this child and I get the feeling she has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. It makes me think of my own daughter. How she’s so opposite. So quiet and shy. I think about what Isabelle said and wonder if she’s shy because she’s afraid. If she’s afraid because in trying to protect her, I’ve made her that way.
“Nice to meet all of you,” I say, and turn to Santiago. “I realize you’re busy, but I’d appreciate a minute of your time.”
He nods, turns to his little girl. “Go help your mommy with your brother,” he tells her. “And when I’m finished we’ll play.”
The little girl gives me a look and sighs. “Santi is no fun. All he does is sleep and poop. Poop and sleep.”
Santiago chuckles, crouches to set her down and whispers something in her ear which makes the girl clap her hands in excitement.
“Promise?”
He winks at her. “Promise.”
“Okay.” She turns to Ivy and takes her hand. “Come on, mommy,” she says and leads her away.
Ivy just shrugs a shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Mr. St. James,” she says to me and the two disappear down a corridor.
Santiago is studying me when I turn back to him. “Looks like you have your hands full,” I tell him.
“In the best way,” he says and glances to where his family just disappeared.
“I won’t keep you from them for too long.”
He nods. “This way.” I follow him down a corridor to his office where he closes the door and takes his seat behind the large desk. I note the computer screens in the room, see the flashes of numbers, see him glance at them. I wonder how his brain works. How he makes sense of it all. He’s made the members of IVI, my family included, a lot of money over the years. The man is a genius. And a force to be reckoned with.
He gestures to the seat in front of the desk that I take.
“How can I help you?”
