“As much as I would have liked to have punished you, Mateo assured me you would behave while you were here, and he was right. This weekend, we will have a party for you where you will meet your potential suitors. By the end of the night, we will have chosen the best addition for this family to become your new husband, binding us to the Ortiz mafia connections acrossthe border. This will solidify our ties and ensure a prosperous business venture.”
He clasps Mateo on the shoulder and squeezes. “My son is home, and I look forward to the continuation of my legacy. Now to find my son a bride of his choosing.”
Adalia perks up at this with her delusional smile plastered to her face.
The smile Mateo gives Mr. Martinez is all white teeth and most award-winning. The happy moment between father and son is short-lived as red wine drips from my brother’s face and saturates Mr. Martinez’s white shirt. The crimson color streaks the front as it rolls down the fabric and onto the floor. I hear a gasp from Adalia, but Emma and I sit there frozen and unflinching, not wanting any attention to be distracted from the wrath that will be coming.
Mr. Martinez stands up abruptly, and his chair falls back, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Mateo grabs the cloth napkin from his lap and wipes the excess wine away from his face. He is wearing a black dress shirt, so the wine coloring isn’t visible, but I can tell most of it was meant for his face.
Mrs. Martinez must be drunk or stupid because even I know to be scared, but any common sense has left the building along with her sanity. She stands up, her finger pointing at him as she leans over the table. I don’t know if she is using her grip on the table to hold herself upright or to keep from swaying at this point as she slurs obscenities at her husband.
We watch the exchange with our heads volleying back and forth as if we are watching a tennis match where the winner is an obvious unanimous decision.
“Your son. Your son!” she screeches, and I almost go to put my hands over my ears to ease the high-pitched sound that threatens to rupture my eardrums. “Our son is dead. My son is dead. He was the rightful heir, and this bitch killed him. I wanther dead. I want them both dead.” She is looking between us and Mateo, but Mr. Martinez just laughs at her.
“Do you think I give a flying fuck about what you want?” He mocks her.“I want them dead.”He shakes his head. “Was their mother not enough for you? You’ve always been a jealous bitch and a lousy lay.” He looks over to Adalia and winks at her. Now my steak threatens to come up because I know that she is fucking him.
Mrs. Martinez takes her new glass of wine and begins to chug it.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight.” He takes her drink from her and places it away from her reach.
“Fuck you,” she spits at him, and he is so quick that I don’t hear the smack until a second after it happens.
She holds her cheek as anger radiates from her body. She stares at him defiantly, and I shift down farther into my seat, not wanting to see what will happen. “Fuck you!” she screams.
He nods. “Maybe that is what you need then.”
Her eyes widen almost as if the demon that took over her body has been exorcized, and she is just realizing what she did. Although, now, her eyes widen in fear.
“Oro!” Mr. Martinez yells, and the large tatted-up man enters the room.
“Yes, boss,” he says as he stops right in front of Mr. Martinez.
She backs up, realizing her mistake, but it is too late.
“I need you to show my wife what it means to be fucked.”
Oro chuckles. “Oh, I can certainly do that, boss.”
“No! No!” She begins to back up and looks around. If she is looking for help, she isn’t getting any from us. No one is saving her. Her cheek is bright red from the slap Mr. Martinez gave her.
Oro stalks toward her, and she attempts to kick him in the balls, but he anticipates the move. He leans in and punches her in the face, and she goes down like a ton of bricks. He picks herup as if she weighs nothing and flips her over his shoulder. One shoe falls to the floor as they turn the corner and disappear.
Emma and I stay there sitting quietly.
“Let this be a lesson to you to understand what will happen if you don’t cooperate this weekend at your party. If you step out of line, I’ll let Oro teach you some manners.” Mr. Martinez leaves the room.
We hear a door open. The sound of muffled cries echoes down the corridor before it disappears along with my dinner as I throw up the entire contents of my stomach onto the high-polished floor.
Chapter Thirty-Five
JAMESON
“Hey Man, Nice Shot” by Filter
Ihave hardly slept. Eduardo and I listened to Evie talk to us through her speaker via the microphone earrings I gifted her before she left me. My stomach twists with sickness as the small device picks up her words with almost perfect clarity—both a blessing and a torturous curse simultaneously.
We learn that she and Emma are being kept in a shared room on the second floor, and I see exactly where it is via the GPS tracking device. Emma also has hers, but Eduardo has had no relief in knowing where she is at all times. According to him, he has failed if her heart is not alongside his.
