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I nod, steeling myself for what's ahead. "I'm ready."
"Lucia, you don't have to do this," my mother pleads, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Si, Mami, I do." My voice is firm, unwavering. "This is what I asked for, and I won't back down."
The tension builds as I descend the steps of the safehouse, my family watching with bated breath. The sleek black car sitting in the driveway is a Jaguar XJ, its engine purring like a predator preparing to pounce. As the door opens for me, I can't help but think about the blood money that paid for such luxury.
With a final glance back at my family, I slide into the car's plush leather seat. The driver, a middle-aged man with an unremarkable face and cold blue eyes, doesn't acknowledge me as he merges onto the busy streets of Miami.
The Miami skyline blurs by as the car glides smoothly through traffic. The driver says nothing, his stoic expression never changing. My heart races with a mixture of fear and determination. I glance at my reflection in the car window, the dark circles under my eyes telling the story of my recent struggles.
As we pull up to the downtown high-rise building, I notice how its sleek glass façade reaches for the heavens, asserting itself among the other skyscrapers. The driver opens the door for me, and I step out onto the pavement, my heels clicking against the ground. A guard waits at the entrance, his muscular frame clad in a finely tailored suit.
"Ms. Manuel," he greets me with a curt nod, leading me into the opulent lobby. Marbled floors reflect the soft glow from the crystal chandelier overhead. The sound of water trickling from a nearby fountain mingles with the hushed conversations between elegant residents and their guests. The scent of fresh flowers permeates the air. Despite the beauty around me, I can't shake the unease that gnaws at my gut, knowing the darkness that hides beneath the surface.
"Right this way," the guard says, guiding me toward the elevator. As the doors close, I steal a moment to collect myself. The elevator ascends rapidly, my stomach dropping as it climbs higher. Nervousness and resolve battle within me, but I know I must do what is necessary to protect those I love and put an end to the violence plaguing our city.
When the elevator doors slide open, I'm met with the lavish penthouse suite. Hesitating only briefly, I step out, but the guard remains behind. "Good luck," he murmurs before the doors shut, leaving me alone.
I take in the penthouse's exquisite design - floor-to-ceiling windows providing a breathtaking view of the city, modern art pieces adorning the walls, and plush furnishings that whisper of untold wealth. But I can't appreciate any of it, knowing how all of it was bought.
"Lucia," a deep voice calls out, and I turn to find the man who must be Alejandro Ramirez standing in the doorway of an adjacent room. His dark eyes appraise me, lingering on my heels as if taking note of every detail. "You came."
"Of course, I did," I reply, trying to project confidence despite the tremor in my voice. "We need to talk about ending this violence. People are suffering, Alejandro."
"Ah, compassion," he muses, stepping closer, his tattoos peeking out from beneath the tailored suit. "There's no use for such things in my world."
I square my shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. "Then let's make your world a better place, shall we?"
ChapterThirty-Eight
Isurvey Alejandro, unsure of what I was expecting. He stands tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular build that's visible even beneath his expensive suit. His dark hair is slicked back, revealing piercing green eyes that seem to bore into my very soul. Tattoos adorn his neck and hands, hinting at the dangerous life he leads. He's good looking in a terrifying sort of way. As he circles around me like a predator sizing up its prey, his deep voice sends shivers down my spine.
"Didn't think the Manuels had such courage," he says, smirking. "You sure got the balls in the family, not your father."
"Let's not talk about my father or my family," I reply, swallowing hard. "I just want to discuss how we can make the city safe."
"Safe?" He chuckles darkly. "The city is safe, darling."
I scoff, unable to believe his audacity. "How can you possibly think that?"
His smile widens as he looks down at me. "I like that you think you can stand up to me. It's cute, in a stupid sort of way."
"Listen," I say, frustration mounting. "I came here to negotiate in good faith, and if you're not willing to do that, then I should just leave."
Before I can move, his hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me cold. He takes several intimidating steps towards me, forcing me to back up until I fall onto a plush leather sofa. Sitting down next to me, he grins and says, "That's better." His hand begins caressing my arm, making my skin crawl.
"Please don't touch me,"I plead in my thoughts, knowing that voicing this would only make things worse.
"Tell me what you want, then," he says, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
"An end to the violence," I reply firmly, trying to ignore his invasive touch. "You can't possibly think that what's happening is right for anyone."
He just smirks at me, his fingers continuing to stroke my arm. "Like I said, the city is safe – under my control, of course."
"Your control? Is that all you care about?" My heart races as I struggle to maintain my composure. "People are suffering, and you sit here in your ivory tower, completely untouched by it all."
"Ah, but you came here, didn't you?" he taunts, leaning closer. "You're desperate enough to seek help from the big bad wolf himself."
