A redheaded woman wearing a gold wrap dress sinks down in the seat next to mine. “Don’t get up.”
“Excuse me?”
“Raul Hernandez says you look stunning in the dress he picked for you.”
My heart leaps to my throat. “What do you want?”
“I’m only a messenger. He says to get up and go to the bar. Order a drink then walk out onto the terrace that is to our left. Do you see it?”
“Why would I do anything that freak wants?”
“Because he has something that you want.”
“What’s that?”
She smiles. “Your freedom.” Before I can say anything more, she is up and moving to the exit.
I scan the room for Abel and surmise he must be speaking with Sanchez. I’m probably going to regret this, but I find my feet moving to the bar. I order a martini and take it out to the terrace just as she said. I sit my glass on the railing and look at the view of the flower garden below. The door closes behind me, and Raul Hernandez steps out of the shadow.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“My husband will be looking for me.”
“I will return you without a hair out of place that is if you want to return to him once I make you my offer.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for some time.”
“You have five minutes.”
“How you have changed since we last met.”
“Your thugs held me at gunpoint at a gas station.”
“I could have taken you then, but I would have preferred you to come to me willingly but that no longer matters. You married your outlaw and turned him into a made man, but what if I told you I can give what you want?”
“And what is it you think I want?”
“The other brother. I can get him out of jail and put you both on a plane to wherever you choose. No one will come looking for you, and the two of you can ride off into the sunset with your child. It isn’t like Abel would miss you. He has his whore on the side still, but you already knew that.”
I swallow and my hand goes to my stomach out of habit. He’s wrong about my husband. He doesn’t keep a whore. He promised. He gave me his word and it’s my legs he crawls between every night. It’s my pussy that stains his lips every morning.
“Yes, I know that you’re pregnant. Would you like to know who the father is?”
“What do you want?”
“Your territory.”
“It isn’t mine to give.”
“Ah but it is. Your stepmother may have control of some of your father’s money and properties, but the Leone Cartel is yours.”
“And what of Abel? If I were to accept your terms. What would happen to my husband?”
“Does it matter? You can’t trust him. You think you know him, but he has you fooled.”
“I guess not.”