During the morning meal I organized several things for Violetta to experience and the very thought of watching her face light up in surprise, as well as happiness, fills me with more anticipation than before. The idea that I’m looking forward to her birthday celebration more than her is ludicrous. Yet highly likely.
Aida stops just under a large tree that shades us from the sun, still rising from its nesting place just over the distant mountain range. I assume a causal stance by leaning against the trunk of the tree, uncaring if the bark snags my clothing and ruins it. The air around me is charged with tension and most of it stems from my mother.
Intuition tells me that whatever she’s about to say is going to piss me off.
“Tristano, I know you have no lost love for me and that you’re only here for answers to your questions, not reconciliation.”
I almost laugh in her face. “You haven’t exactly shown you’re interested in making peace since you coerced me to come here.”
“My choices are for reasons you’re not aware of. Perhaps I’ll enlighten you in the future, but right now I don’t want your understanding. What I want is your money.”
My scoff is loud and full of derision. It does nothing to chip at her stony exterior. “Your negotiation skills leave much to be desired,” I say, “and your audacity is staggering. What makes you think I’ll give you a dime?”
Aida tilts her chin and somehow manages to look down her nose at me even though she’s not close to matching me in height. At least I know where my brothers and I inherited our strong will from. Holy fucking shit.
“I know you’ve been searching for me,” she says. “I’ve kept an eye on you and your brothers since I left Chicago, and there are many things I know about you, thingsyoumight not even know.”
The urge to strangle the truth from her comes over me so strongly I worry I won’t make it past noon without committing matricide.
My tone is deadened, like my feelings for her. “You have me in suspense, signora. By all means, do continue.”
She narrows her gaze, giving me a glimpse of her ire before it clears and her face reverts back to a neutral expression. “I’m willing to disclose everything in exchange for funding.”
I remain tight-lipped, not wanting her to know how eager I am to have that knowledge. She waits as well, to test me, to try and gauge how important this is to me. We are the same, both of us exchanging silent messages and thwarting the reception from our opponents.
Aida loses this round.
“I need millions of U.S. dollars,” she says. “Your answer has a time limit, which expires in two hours. I’d offer you more time to think, but you don’t really need it. We both know what you’re going to do.”
I shove my hands in my pockets to refrain from reaching for her. For her throat, to be exact. “You don’t know anything about me, because if you did, you’d know how much danger you’re in right now.”
She stiffens in fear. That could possibly be the most intelligent thing she’s done since our reunion.
“If you really knew me, you’d be aware that I won’t enter into any business agreement without knowing every single detail,” I say, “and since this concerns my money, as well as my time, you should start fucking talking.”
Aida bristles, her mouth thinning and brows snapping together. Yet she holds her composure. “El Jefe has been taken hostage, and as his second-in-command it’s my duty to secure his release.”
“He must not be very good at what he does if he’s been imprisoned.” Aida’s eye twitches once and I highly suspect I’m not the only one with murder on my mind. I redirect her attention by asking, “Who has him and why did they take El Jefe to begin with? Was it a rival?”
She turns her head to look off in the distance, keeping her silence. And she remains that way for so long I consider shaking her to break her deep concentration. Finally, Aida mutters under her breath, too indistinguishable for me to make out. When she meets my gaze, the gray of hers is churning with so many emotions I’m temporarily stunned.
“The man who’s taken my boss is someone who hates me,” she says, her tone filled with so much conviction I’m inclined to take her words as truth. “I can’t be sure if he did it because he found me or if it’s because El Jefe is growing as a narcotics supplier, which would make him a threat to the man’s business.”
Aida walks over and all but falls against the tree trunk as though she doesn’t have the strength to stand. Her sigh is heavy with so many things, things I recognize, having experienced them myself very often in the past.
A never-ending exhaustion due to the weight of responsibility crushing you.
A crippling fear when someone close to you is in danger.
A bitter rage that burns with a need to see justice prevail.
For a moment I’m able to connect with my mother, the same woman who incited all of those intense emotions, plus more that I haven’t acknowledged.
“You care for El Jefe,” I say quietly.
She nods.
“Are you involved with him?”
