He seems to suddenly find his sobriety, no doubt at the intensity of my gaze. “It’s nothing, son. I was just—”
“Or I could use every ounce of my skill and resources to dig into this new venture of yours. This time, if I find so much as an i that isn’t dotted or t crossed, I’ll expose every bit of it. You want to keep silent on this thing I have a right to know about, watch me do the exact opposite.”
“How dare you!” My mother snaps. “After everything we’ve done for you—”
“Stop, Ava,” my father says with a heavy sigh.
She looks at him like he’s slapped her. “This is all your fault. If this falls through I’ll never forgive you.”
“If what falls through?” I ask, feeling my impatience quickly begin to overshadow my anger.
“We are constructing these hotels with a loan from your father, your birth father. Richard Coleman.”
It’s akin to what I expected, but it still has my head spinning. How? Why? Most importantly, when?
Then, something else occurs to me.
“A loan?” I ask, coughing out a cynical laugh. “Is that what it is?”
“Yes,” my mother snaps, quickly enough for my suspicion to heighten.
“Let me guess, you went with the highest bidder, maybe second highest just to avoid suspicion? Paid more than a fair amount for the land and construction materials? Then, once it gets going, he’ll suggest a cleaning company, a staffing company, laundry services, food, amenities, maintenance, all being paid slightly more than the average.”
“What are you insinuating?” My father asks, seemingly truly bewildered.
I turn to my mother, and the look on her face is only slightly less perplexed, as though something she had a sneaking suspicion about is true. I always figured her as the brains in this outfit.
“Yes, that’s right. Richard Coleman is a money launderer.”
“Quiet!” My mother hisses, once again looking around.
As if I give a shit who hears.
“The only question I have is how you came to know who my biological father is in the first place?” I say, ignoring her plea to stay quiet.
The two of them look at each other, and that hollow in the pit of my stomach turns into a vacuum, sucking most of the life out of me.
“When?” I say in a tone quiet enough to be dangerous.
“It was about six months after we adopted you,” my father says, giving my mother a look that shuts down any opposition. “He told us your mother had run off with you and he had been searching for you. He didn’t want to take you from us as you had been through some traumatic episodes while under your mother’s care and he thought you would do better with a new life.”
“Did he?” I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“He just wanted us to keep him informed on what, if anything you remembered. Fortunately, you seemed to have forgotten everything and seemed perfectly settled in your new life.”
I mentally bless Sister Clara for warning me not to mention a word to anyone about what I’d seen. I doubt either I or the people standing in front of me would be alive right now if I had.
“And he was happy to pay you for your efforts? Maybe even coming through a decade later when your company was in trouble?”
Again they look at each other. My mother looks indignant. My father looks resigned.
“Yes, he did,” he says.
“And now? What did he want?” I ask, feeling the urgency settle back in again. “Tell me everything, starting with when he got in touch.”
“It was only this week. He asked about what you were up to, what you did for a living. Obviously, I couldn’t tell him much, neither your mother nor I understand—”
“Hostia puta!” I roar. Fucking Constantin must have tipped Richard off before I even met with him, despite his threat on the boat. The stupid bastard never even knew who I really was to Richard.
“Enrique!” My mother exclaims at my outburst.
“You two may have just gotten an innocent woman killed. Worst case scenario, you’ll be next.”
The looks of shock on their faces almost makes it worth it.
“Do you know what it was that traumatized me as a child? I saw my father murder a man. He also murdered my mother. He’s not some angel investor who gives a shit about your business. That’s his leverage to get to me. You two have just signed a deal with the devil.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” my mother mutters, shaking her head in denial.
“Now you know the truth, a truth which puts a death warrant on your heads. Congratulations. I hope these hotels and all that money are worth it. As far as us…you and me are done.”
“Enrique,” my father says in a pleading tone.
I have no patience for it, not anymore. That odd feeling I always had growing up, that I was nothing more than a prop in their lives, suddenly makes so much sense. All those early years convincing me to forget my old life, all the years after in which I was plied with material wants in the place of true affection. It falls perfectly into place now.
I stalk off, my only concern being Leira’s safety.
If she’s not already dead.
Chapter Fifty Leira
My head is pounding. I blink my eyes open, and the light just makes it worse.
“There’s our Sleeping Beauty,” I hear a voice say. It’s that of a man. American. “Considering the number of sedatives they had to ply you with on the plane after the chloroform just to get you to the car, I’m sure you probably aren’t feeling your best.”
Plane? Now that he’s said it, there are flashes of the luxurious interior of something that could easily be a plane. I try to think back further than that. I remember the police station in Barcelona. Saying goodbye to Enrique.
Te amo.
That pulls me further out of my current lull. From there, I remember the policeman who took me away. We were walking,
