In reality, Flora’s last name is Aguilar Bautista since the mother’s last name comes last in Spanish-speaking cultures. However, her connection to the Aguilar family will always stand out among our men. I’m certain those who know she and I are together doubt my decisions. They know the open hostility between them and us. With time, I’m also certain they’ll realize Flora is nothing like her father’s side of the family.
“Do you know when he will land?”
“In an hour or two. He left a little before you.”
“You’re certain he doesn’t know we came back to Bogotá to pack up theseñorita’sapartment?”
“No,El Tigre, I’m positive he would’ve stormed over there if he’d known. Instead, he purchased a one-way first-class ticket to JFK.”
It’s not like my family never flies commercial. We do sometimes, but it’s hardly our only option with two private planes at our disposal. Ernesto has no private plane. And while it could sound snooty of me to think it, it just shows heisn’t playing in the same league as my family. Though very few are. The only true rivals to our wealth are the Kutsenkos, Mancinellis, and O’Rourkes.
That last set of fuckers wish they had as much as the rest of us. They trail behind. Sure, some of them have finally made it to billionaire status, but not all six of the men in that ruling family are there. They’re barely more than knuckle-draggers. The Kutsenkos are vodka-swilling meatheads. They’re the biggest of all of us, but not by much. And the Mancinellis spend far too much time eating pasta than hitting the gym. They believe their history as Italian Mafia still holds sway in New York City. They wouldn’t have to strike the other families so often and so hard if they truly mattered.
It’s my family that has a dynasty running an entire hemisphere. Nothing happens in the Western one without our knowing about it. That’s how we’re aware Ernesto’s on his way.
“Marcos, keep me informed about what’s going on. I want to know when he lands and where he goes, who he sees, and what he talks about. Please contactTíoEnrique and let him know what’s happening.”
“El Tigre, I already calledel jefe. I know this is about you, but I still figured I should go to him first.”
“You made the right choice. Keep us posted.”
I hang up with one of our senior leaders and look atPapáand Alejandro. I had the call on speaker, so they heard the same thing I did. I shift my focus to the closed door, where Flora sleeps on the other side.
“I don’t know whether I should tell her yet. I don’t want to keep unnecessary secrets from her. I know she’d believe me if I said I kept it from her because it’s Cartel business as much as it’s about her, but she wouldn’t appreciate it.Papá, what do you think? Is it even safe for her to know?”
“I think it’s safe, but what will it gain you if you can’t answer all the questions she’ll have?”
Alejandro shakes his head. “It’ll piss her off if you tell her later you knew all along that Ernesto got to New York ahead of us.”
“It probably will, but will that upset her more than me not having answers to her questions? I’d rather her angry at me than scared about him.”
I look between my father and cousin, and they both shrug and nod. Our family traits are so deeply ingrained into our DNA that it’s almost eerie. The Diaz blood most certainly pumps through all of us.Papáand I are mirror images of each other. Our looks and our mannerisms. Alejandro looks the most likeTíoEnrique, who looks so much likePapá. Despite that, Alejandro sounds just like his father. He has many ofTíoMatáis’s mannerisms too.
“I think I’ll wait to say anything until I know who he’s going to for help. If I need to tell her before that, I will, but I don’t want to make her any more anxious than she already is.”
Papálooks skeptical, and Alejandro appears resigned. I don’t think I’ll win for trying on this one.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Flora
I slept harder than I expected while on the plane. It’s a lot to take in when I arrive and find Enrique waiting for us on the tarmac. As though Luis and Alejandro weren’t intimidating enough, noweljefe’sgreeting me.
Luis has been nothing but kind to me. However, he’s still my boyfriend’s father andel Espíritu Santo. Alejandro’s reserved and kind of gruff, but not unkind. It’s his size that’s overwhelming. As huge as Pablo is, Alejandro’s even broader. He’s built like a mighty oak tree.
It amazes me how much Pablo and Luis look alike. It’s a mirror into the past and window into the future. It’s easy to see what Luis must have looked like twenty-something years ago and what Pablo will look like as he ages.
Alejandro is practically a mirror of Enrique. However, Pablo explained that when I meet Alejandro’s father, Matáis, I’ll realize Alejandro is simply a younger version of his father. As a biologist, genetics fascinates me. That Alejandro can look so much like a man on one side of his family yet have thepersonality of a man on the other side intrigues me. It makes me wonder how much of the latter is nature versus nurture.
Enrique greets me with a smile. The man is pure silver fox. He has laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. There’s gray at his temples and a little shot through his hair. He’s charming, and it puts me at ease until I realize that’s probably how he is with men right before he kills them. That makes my stomach twist into a knot that sits heavily in my lower abdomen.
“Señorita, welcome.”
His accent is so familiar. I suppose I expected him to sound more like Pablo, even though Luis has the same accent as his brother. It’s obvious Enrique and Luis grew up in Colombia, whereas Pablo and Alejandro have that distinct New York Spanish accent. I know Pablo grew up in New Jersey, though. I’m familiar with the area because I did my undergrad at Rutgers.
“Thank you,jefe.”
“Please call me Enrique.”
