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Not even my husband.
Grabbing my cell phone I scroll through my contacts until I reach the one I am looking for. Hitting “call,” I press it to the side of my face as I listen to it ring.
“Cousin!” Alejandra, my cousin on my mother’s side, yells in greeting. “How are you, chica?”
For the first time in days, a genuine smile crosses my face. I have always had a special bond with her even though we don’t get to spend nearly as much time together as we would like.
“I’m good. You?”
My question is met with silence and I know there is something she isn’t telling me.
“We’ll talk about that later,” I say. “What are you doing?”
“Not much.” I can hear the pain in her voice. “Father has some people coming to see him later and I have to be present.”
“That’s good. Finally putting that finance degree to work.”
“Not really. I’m there to refill drinks and look pretty.”
Anger surges through me. Being a woman means that even if we are smart and capable we are often overlooked in this life. “Would you like to change that?” I ask.
There’s a beat of silence before Alejandra defeatedly replies, “This is the life we were born into. As women, we will never be more than pretty faces and baby factories.”
She sounds so dejected I wish I could wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly. “Not necessarily.”
“Willow, you’re not making any sense.”
“Things here are different…” I think carefully on my next words but decide to lay it all out. “Sebastian is dead, by my hand. I run the Hernandez family now.”
“What?” I rip the phone away from my face at the volume from hers. “When the hell did this happen, and how did I not know?”
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come down here and have a look at what I’m doing? I could use an accountant.”
“Are you serious?” she asks breathlessly.
“Yes. You could be free to make your own way,” I say, hoping she hears the earnestness in my tone. Yes, I need help. But I also know what it’s like to be trapped in a house by your own family.
A small sob escapes down the line. “I would love to join you.”
“I’ll send the plane.”
I end the conversation quickly. We will see each other soon and then we can talk about everything. For now I need to get all my other ducks in a row.
“Have you spoken to the police commissioner?” I ask Diego without looking up from the screen of my phone.
“Yes. He wasn’t interested but I convinced him.”
“Do I want to know how?” My brow is arched when I finally face him.
Diego only smiles. The bastard is way too attractive for his own good. Dark tanned skin, gray eyes, dark hair, and a set of dimples that would drive any heterosexual woman nuts.
“Fine. What’s next?”
“Willow,” he says my name and waits until I give him my full attention. His gray gaze cuts into me, searching my soul and dragging my deepest, darkest secrets into the light. “If you do this, there is no going back.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what I can or cannot do. I need you to have my back.”
“This is part of me doing that.” He rolls his eyes.
