Adrian shakes his head, an exasperated look on his face. “This is a mistake.”
“No. It isn’t.” The mistake was in not claiming her before when I had the chance. I allowed pride and grief, coupled with the misguided notion of doing theright thing, to get in my way.
I won’t make that same mistake again.
“I’m done talking about this.” Shoving out of my seat, I grab the suit jacket that hangs over the back of my office’s leather club chair and shrug into it. “Get on board with this, Adrian. I won’t change my mind. Not where Leticia Castro is concerned.”
His mouth tightens, dark brows furrowing as he climbs to his feet. His body is riddled with tension, as though my little brother is considering an attempt at physically stopping me.
I’d like to see him try.
“Why now?” Adrian demands, frustration clear in his voice. “Why, after five years, are you making a play for her?”
He doesn’t understand. Then again, how could he? In high school, Leticia and I kept our friendship secret. Even from those we trusted. To do anything else would have been perilous to both of our well-beings.
After Papá died, I confided in my brother and told Adrian about her.
There’d been copious amounts of alcohol involved on the night of Papá’s funeral, and it was the first time I’d been drunk. It was also the last. Intoxicated men have loose lips, a lesson I’ve never forgotten given that all these years later, my brother’s rantings where Leticia is concerned have yet to cease.
He was surprised, at first, to learn of our friendship. But his shock quickly evolved into anger. An emotion I couldn’t fault him for. I consorted with the enemy. A woman whose very family was responsible for the death of our father.
At the time, I believed I was deserving of his disgust. His rage.
And in the face of both, I made a promise I had every intention of keeping. I swore to let her go. It was the right decision, or it should have been. Leticia wanted no part in Cartel life. She’d made that abundantly clear. And who was I to force her into it?
Leti wanted a life of her own. One where she could build a family without risk of violence and bloodshed. She wanted to experience the world. To travel. To go to college. She had so many dreams in that head of hers, and I could never fulfill them.
I was groomed from an early age to take over the family business, and I wanted it. The money. The power. The risk. I knew my place in life. I was born to rule. And I would not walk away from my family or my responsibilities for a woman. Someone I assumed was an insignificant crush.
So I did what needed to be done—what my brother demanded of me.
I let her go.
It was the decision that worked best for everyone.
Everyone but me.
I’m older now. Wiser. I’ve had years to come to terms with the decisions I made, and just as long to secure a path that would rectify them.
“Is it because she’s engaged?” Adrian asks, interrupting my thoughts. “Are you so proud that you’d risk your life, your family, because your highschool sweetheart is moving on?”
I scoff. “This isn’t pride.”
“Then what is it?” he demands.
“She never wanted this life.” My voice remains even, controlled. I’ve had years of practice learning to control my emotions, but Adrian’s eyes dipping to the clenched fists at my sides tell me these past years haven’t been enough. Uncurling my fists, I flex my fingers and exhale a sigh. “Leticia would not have chosen this.” And she sure as hell wouldn’t have chosen him. Maxim Sidorov was her childhood tormentor. He’s the reason I found myself in her life to begin with. She would never marry him. Not by choice.
“Why do you care?” my brother asks. “You’re not some white knight, Andrés. You can’t ride in on a white horse and save the day. Leave her to her life while you live yours. It’s been years. It’s time you move on and remember what family it is that she belongs to.”
“I know what family she belongs to.”
Mine.
“She is your enemy.” His eyes beg me to understand. To do the right thing. But I did that once before. I made the call he wanted me to make, and I sacrificed a piece of my soul in the process.
Leticia Castro is not, nor will she ever be, my enemy. She is so much more.
“You’re wrong. She is no more my enemy than you are, brother.”
