“I won’t let you go, Amara.” I state, sticking to our conversation from before.
“I’m not a woman who will be imprisoned ever again.”
Fuck. “I’m not imprisoning you, mi reyna. I simply can’t leave here . . . and you won’t go either. You may visit, but you will not live in America. We are meant to be together.”
Amara’s mischievous grin shifts to something more tight-lipped. “I don’t know how you’re so certain of this. About me. We barely know one another.”
I scoff, “You stupid girl. One look at you and I knew you were special. I know you don’t believe you are, but you’re a gift. I will say this one more time, and only once more. I refuse to lose you when I’ve just found you.” I crush my lips down onto Amara’s, kissing her with only fire and passion. This woman must know how much I crave her. How my body, spirit, and soul yearn for her by my side.
I will never let her leave me.
Chapter Nineteen
Sometimes I feel like God. When I order someone to be killed, they die the same day
~ Pablo Escobar
Dante
“What do you think of his offer, Father?” I question, sitting beside my father at one of the most prestigious restaurants in all of Mexico City. We’re having dinner with Cesar Alonzo, the leader of the Guatemalan Cartel.
Eduardo should’ve had this meeting, yet Cesar wanted to meet with my father and I because it directly pertained to us and our familia. Cesar has just offered me a marriage proposal to his eldest daughter, Beatriz.
“Tsk. It simply cannot happen, Cesar.” My father shakes his head, dismissing it. Guatemalans are the types who enjoy to skirt the line of our world. Rumor has it, Cesar is mixed up in some shady shit.
“Why not?” Cesar, the old brute, questions from across the table. His eyebrows are as thick as the highway and his tanned skin is marked with wrinkles from his long life.
“My son is engaged to a woman already. I will not encourage him to break a union with another Cartel familia. What type of leader would I be if I allowed this sort of disrespect?” My father continues. You see, when you’re a member of a Cartel familia, you are supposed to show respect to others, even if they are your enemies.
This is one of the many traditions the movies and books don’t get right. We may have hated Rafael for what he did to our country, but we never once put anyone else who had his blood running through their veins at risk. That is the respect we offer. We simply won’t cross certain lines.
“Another . . . who?” Cesar seems upset, appearing to have figured out this marriage would’ve eliminated many of our problems.
“Amara, Rafael’s niece.” I fill him in, smirking from where I sit.
“The half-blood? You must be joking. Shit. Her father was never involved in the Cartel. He was simply a bastard. My Beatriz would be a much better fit, a regal one at that. Francisco, talk some sense into your son.” Cesar throws his hands up in the air, outraged at the news.
“I will do no such thing, Cesar. My son made his choice and I support his decision. Amara will make a perfect leader alongside my son. Do you disagree?” Ah. My father is waiting to see if he will cast disrespect our way, in which case will grant us permission to shoot him.
Cesar shakes his head and picks up the tequila in front of him, pouring himself another serving, he shoots it back. “Ah, no my friend. I simply think we could have made a great alliance here. Do you not?”
“Who says we cannot still do so? I have two more sons. Angel and Javier.” My father reminds Cesar, who smirks wildly.
“Angel, what will he do when you pass?” This is no one’s business outside of the familia.
“That is for us to know,” My father replies, smirking. “Though, if you’re asking my opinion, I believe Angel is the better choice. He has a . . . certain way with women. A kinder heart, which any father would want for his daughter, no?”
“Mmm, yes. But, I expect a man to be able to defend her as well.”
“He will have no problem doing that.” I speak up. Angel is extremely talented when it comes to shooting. He’s taken down teams of ten by himself.
“He will fit well with my Beatriz.” Cesar states, smirking widely. Beatriz is his eldest daughter, about twenty-three . . . but this will not do. We are Mexican-Catholics. He didn’t marry Beatriz’s mother. Surely father knows this information.
“No, Fatima.” My father speaks up. “Fatima is Ana’s daughter, yes?”
“Yes,” Cesar answers through clenched teeth. “Fatima is but a teenager, nineteen. Beatriz is almost twenty-three. She would be a much better fit.”
“Ah, no. This is not how this meeting will go, my friend. Fatima is your only daughter you had with your wife, therefore she will be the heir of the Guatemalan Cartel, no?”
My father is pushing Cesar into a corner. Cesar clears his throat. “I had assumed we could come here today and establish an arrangement which would benefit both parties. Beatriz was to be married off to one of your boys and Fatima would take the reins when the time comes.”
“Fatima will take the reins and be married to Angel.” Father states, now drinking his tequila.
Cesar takes in a deep breath and slowly exhales. He knows he doesn’t really have a choice to begin with. Cesar’s brother stole their entire family’s fortune except for a small bit and fled to the United States. They don’t know where Guillermo is now, though I’ve personally heard talk about Guatemalan gangs causing trouble in Los Angeles. Since Cesar’s brother has been causing problems, many smaller cartels are now deciding to cause trouble in his country. It’s simply retaliation. Though, it’s something Cesar can’t take for long.
