“You know I will, but before we can decide anything, we need to know more.”
Joaquin places his hand on my other shoulder and pats it as he speaks. “I’ll start looking up information as soon as we get to your parents’ house.”
Joaquin has one of his computers with him. He’s rarely without one in reach in case there are moments like this where he must do research, so we can make educated decisions before we act. We’re a few miles from my parents’ house when Alejandro lets us knowTíaElle,TíaCatalina, andTíaLuciana are already there withMamáand Flora. We’re almost to my parents’ neighborhood when my phone rings. I recognize my father’s number. I answer and put it on speaker.
“Papá, I’m here with Alejandro andTres J’s. We’re almost at your house.”
“Good. Both of yourtíosare on the line as well.”
This must be serious ifTíoMatáis has joined the call.Papá’sin Peru right now, so it makes me wonder why he’s the onecalling. I’m usually happy to hear from him, but it gives me a sinking feeling. It’sTíoEnrique who speaks up.
“What have you learned so far? Florencia told yourmamáyou had some meeting to go to with a man she spoke to on the phone, but she knew nothing more than that.”
“It was Mason Harrison. He said we should look at your oldest rival. We suspect he means Salvatore.”
The three men on the other ends of the call release a slew of curses in Spanish. There’re so many that come out so fast I can’t tell who says what. When they finally stop, it’sPapáwho speaks up.
“That tracks with what I just learned. Apparently, somegringo’sbeen down here poking around.”
We knew something was up in Lima, but we didn’t know what. My father went down to visit some associates who clued inTíoEnrique that someone outside of Latin America’s been sniffing around.
“What did you find out,Papá?”
“The locals say this man is as handsome as Cortés supposedly was, except rather than golden hair, he has brown. He doesn’t speak Spanish, but he practically looks like he could be Latino. Apparently, he was there to set up labs in the Andes.”
Papá’sreferring to the debunked legend. The one about how Montezuma and the Mexica—the Aztecs—thought Hernán Cortés was Quetzalcoatl. He was the ancient serpent god known for his striking good looks and golden blond hair. Apparently, the Conquistador resembled the mythical god.
“He told one of our rivals he has something no one else does. I assume that’s Florencia’s formula. At least this man acted as though he already had it.”
I’m silently fuming as I listen toPapá. I know which motherfucker it is. Handsome, like, a god. That’s what he believes he is.
Motherfucking Lorenzo Mancinelli.
Chapter Thirty
Flora
It surprises me how comfortable I am with Pablo’s mother andtías. All four women have been exceedingly sweet to me, and it makes all of what’s happened in the past day easier to manage while Pablo’s gone. I was hesitant at first because being around such a loving family is new to me.
Really, it’s only beenMamáand me for most of my life. I havetíasandtíoson both sides of the family, but we’ve never been that close to them. Not the way the Diaz family is with each other. It’s extraordinary to see the women move around Margherita’s house as though it’s their home as well. It’s clear they spend plenty of time together. Even Elle, who’s new to the family, fits in as though she’s been a Diaz for decades, not just a few months.
My mind still dwells on how Luciana in particular can overlook my family’s past, especially now that her sons are on a mission and in danger because of me.
“Florencia, I can tell you’re still apprehensive around me. That’s the last thing I want.”
I guess the entire family are mind readers, not just Pablo, because Luciana says what I was just feeling.
“It’s not anything you’ve done. You’ve made me feel extremely welcome. You spent most of your day showing me around apartments and helping me plan my résumé. I just don’t understand how you can be so accepting of me when I’m surely a constant reminder of what happened between my father and you. I know I resemble him more than I do my mother.”
“That’s true. But like I said at dinner, we don’t choose the families we’re born into. If we could, no one would choose to be part of a cartel. There’s more pain and anguish that comes with that than most people would choose. You didn’t ask to be caught in the middle of this, but you were. And that’s something I will never blame you for.”
“Mamáwon’t tell me much about how things were when my father was still alive. She generally refuses to talk about him unless it’s singing his praises. I know most of what she says is exaggeration or time softening hard memories. I don’t want to open old wounds, but I wish I knew more of the truth.”
“Florencia, that’s completely fair. There’s your family’s version, and my family’s version, and somewhere in between is the absolute truth. I can only share with you how things were from our perspective. Yourabuelowas determined to take over parts of Bogotá. He figured he could inch his way into more wealth and more power without mypapánoticing before it was too late. However, that wasn’t the case.”
“That sounds entirely likeAbuelo.”
“Papánoticed immediately. Rather than back down and save everybody time, money, and lives, Ernesto kept pushing until my father had no choice but to strike back. It was something he disliked because he knew it was inevitable good men would die on both sides when they could’ve avoided that. There was no wayPapáwould back down from his position since he wasjefe dejefes. So, he offered a compromise. Domingo’s sisters were far too young for Enrique. Luis was already married, and Catalina and Matáis had been together for years and already engaged. It fell to Domingo and me to be the sacrificial lambs.”
