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My white V10 Audi R8 pulls up, the valet rushing to open Vicenta’s door until he sees me shake my head. Jogging down the steps, I open the door for her but turn to see she hasn’t moved from her spot. She stares at me, her eyes matching the anger in my own.
“You either get in this car on your own or I do it for you. Your choice.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, her breasts pushing up against the ugly dress.
Shrugging, I move to her with intentions of picking her stubborn ass up, but she steps back and concedes.
“Fine. Fucking hell.”
I roll my eyes at her words, letting her move past me and toward the car. As I get there, she slams the door shut before I can and it takes all my willpower not to lose my shit.
“Dios mío, give me strength.”
Cracking my neck and adjusting my suit, I move around to the driver’s side and slide into the seat, peeling around the circle driveway and down the cobblestone pathway with my guards following behind us. My foot is heavy on the gas.
“If you think speeding is going to make me cower, you’re going to be disappointed.”
I ignore her, choosing to focus on the road instead. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, sitting stiffly like a stubborn child.
Whatever. My mind is on my father and his hidden plan for the Herrerajefe. If I’m going to be in charge of keeping Vicenta safe, he should fill me in right away, but he chooses to hide his thoughts. Why? He’s been hiding shit from me for a while now, ever since hiring Guzmán Financial, but I can’t figure out why. Nothing is making sense to me.
First, he allows Victor to live, but though I didn’t realize it at the time, I can now see that was by design.Was there really any missing money?
Then he takes Victor’s daughter as his wife even though he’s more than twice her age.Did he have this planned from the start?
Now he has some sort of plan to get Herrera on a leash.Does Vicenta have a part in this plan?
“I’m not sorry for speaking my mind to Marío,”Bruja’svoice interrupts my whirlwind of thoughts, “but I am sorry I almost put you in a difficult position, Alvaro.”
I give her a tight nod, accepting her apology but still more focused on what’s to come with the Herrera Cartel than her stubborn backtalk. Romero is a ruthless man, that is without question, but he’s a manwhore. There’s no way he’d settle down now, especially not for a woman who brings him no power. Vicenta, for all her beauty and intelligence, isn’t what a Don goes for. Not typically. Which begs the question; why did Marío choose her?
What does she offer him?
“I’ve never been to Mexico.” Her soft voice pulls me out of my head. “It’s beautiful here.”
I look around us as we drive, watching all the people as they walk to and from. There are students from a prestigious school being paraded to the historic buildings, passing tourists who snap pictures at the beauty my city offers.
“I’m surprised you’ve never been to Mexico. Not even the border towns?”
She shakes her head as she cranes her neck to see the top of the skyscrapers.
“Hm,” I offer noncommittally as we reach the mall filled with boutiques and shops. “I would have thought you were from here. Your Spanish is very fluent and proper.”
She smiles, her eyes turning back to me. “My mother is afresa.” I laugh at the Spanish term for rich snob.
“Where was she from?” I ask as I pull into the valet station,
“I don’t know. She moved to America as a young woman after her parents lost everything. Anytime we asked her, my father would tell us to mind our business and leave her fragile past alone.” When I don’t comment, she shrugs and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Anyway, that’s why I speak properly.”
“She taught you well,” I say, before opening my door and walking around to hers, helping her out and leading her into the mall.
We walk for a while, people either gawking at her dress or me, but neither of us pay them any attention. I point out stores to her, making suggestions, until she takes the lead and walks ahead of me. I quickly grab her hand and pull her to my side again. We’re in our territory, but I am always vigilant in public.
“Espera aquí,” I tell my silent guards as we enter the boutique.
“¡Hola, buenas tardes!” The store employee greets us in a sing-song voice as she approaches us. “Le puedo ayudar en algo?”
“We’re looking to stock her closet,” I tell the woman, who literally ignores Vicenta’s existence until I gesture to her.
