Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

NICO

" B oss," Vlad says, "someone at one of Camila's clubs is causing trouble and asking to see you."

I flick an eyebrow up. "Asking to see me?"

"Yes, boss. Apparently, he's got some important information you'll want to hear."

"Identification?"

"All we've been able to get is that he used to work in Santiago's gang."

I'm immediately on high alert at the sound of that name.

"Let's go."

The drive from the compound to the club takes thirty minutes. When we arrive, we're shown toward the back entrance that is near the office. Camila is seated behind a table, the only woman in a room filled with men. Her husband sits to the side on a couch, relaxed as he watches the scene in front of him.

Two of my men restrain another man on his knees. This is the man who used to be a part of Santiago's gang, I'm guessing. A gang I personally disbanded and wiped out two months ago. The tension in the room goes up a notch I step inside. Camila gets to her feet and offers me a respectful nod before moving to sit beside her husband. I'd prefer it if they left, but by the looks on their faces, they're not going anywhere.

"What's your name?" I ask, leaning against Camila's table and looking down at the man.

"Pa-a-ulo," he replies shakily.

"Paulo, huh? They said you demanded to see me."

"Not demanded, sir. Merely asked for an audience," he says, brown eyes filled with fear.

"He kicked over two tables, breaking several bottles in the process," Camila speaks up, her eyes narrowed in his direction.

"That was my mistake," Paulo says apologetically. Any bravado he must have felt coming here disappearing under the weight of my gaze.

"I'll pay for the bottles and the damage," I tell Camila.

I cross my arms over my chest as I observe the man on his knees. There's nothing outwardly special about him. He has buck teeth and matted brown hair. He looks like he hasn't had a good meal in days. Must be hard to pay the bills now that Santiago's gone.

"Tell me your important information," I prompt.

He nods, gaze drawn to the ground.

"Santi isn't dead, Mr. Ramirez," he informs me. "I was there that day. When you attacked."

The day I chose to get rid of Santiago and his cartel once and for all. It was a bloodbath. In the middle of it all, I managed to shoot Santiago. Two shots, one in the thigh and the other in the stomach. The last I saw of him, he was being rushed into a black van that drove off. I had hoped he died from the bullet wounds. But hope is a fool's notion.

"How did you survive?" I ask slowly.

Every man in the warehouse that day was killed.

"I was the one behind the wheel of the car, sir. I drove Santiago away," he states in a quiet voice.

"I see. And he survived thanks to that," I note. "Where is he now?"

"That's the thing, sir. Last I saw Santi, he was telling me that he was going to return to Mexico. He wants to go and rebuild his gang, sir. And he was promising that once he returns, he'll kill you. He's gone crazy, boss."

"As opposed to how sane he was before?" I drawl.

Santiago's always been a psychopath.

"Even more crazy than before," Paulo assures me. "It's why I didn't go with him back home to Mexico."

"Instead, you're here, providing me with this incredibly valuable information. What do you want?"

"Some money, sir," he says, clasping his hands together. "Things have been hard for me since Santi left. I just need to take care of my little brother. He's twelve, and he doesn't have anyone else but me."

I don't immediately reply to him. I tap my fingers against the table as I consider what to do next.

"How long did you work for Santiago?" I ask.

"Ten years, sir."

"Hmm. Ten years, and yet you can kneel before me, open your mouth, and betray his whereabouts, his location, and provide me with evidence of his survival. You made a mistake coming here, Paulo."

His eyes widen with fear at that. He scrambles like he's about to run, but the men clamp down on his arm, keeping him in place. I get to my feet, smoothing out the cuffs of my shirt.

"I value loyalty above all else. If I ever died, or if something happened to me and I had to leave my men behind, I'd expect them to continue to uphold that sense of loyalty, even years after I'm deep in the grave," I state.

"I told you!" Paulo yells. "He's insane."

"And you're a dead man. Take him away. Torture him until he confesses his brother's location and then kill him," I order.

They drag him out immediately, and the room falls still. Camila speaks up once they're gone.

"What are you going to do to his brother?" she asks.

I shrug. "Take him in. The kid won't have anyone. Might as well take care of him."

"Aww, you're such a big softie, Ramirez."

"Don't tell anybody," I say dryly. "I'm leaving. There's a meeting tonight, and I don't want to be late."

"Good luck," she tells me, knowing full well what the agenda of the meeting is.

"You and I both know I don't need luck. I'll see you later," I tell her. "Lukas," I say in acknowledgment.

The blonde man simply grunts in reply. After several days of research, I've decided to trust them. I searched for any traces of foul play and found none.

When I arrive back at the mansion, Adrian and Marco's cars are already parked outside, their men milling about. Instead of heading straight for the meeting room, I ask Vlad to inform Sebastian that I'd like to speak to him privately.

The old man arrives a few minutes later, anger in his eyes at being summoned.

"Is this a last-minute surrender?" he asks.

"Yes. Yours," I answer simply. His eyes narrow. "Do you really think I don't know that you promised to give Adrian control over the organization's accounts if he voted for you in the meeting? I mean, the asshole likes money, but he apparently likes me more for some reason."

Sebastian's fists clench. But I'm not done.

"And Marco? What did you promise him? You and I both know he's a slimy eel. He'll vote last and will be on the side of the majority, regardless of any deal you two might have. I'm sure you're also hoping the Shadow will send a message that he's on your side. But unfortunately, that's not going to happen either. In case it isn't clear, Seb. You're going to lose," I state.

His jaw tightens. "I still need to agree for the outfit to accept your position. All four of us need to come to a unanimous decision. Do you really think I'm going to vote for you in that meeting? Your delusion knows no bounds, Ramirez," he says with a scoff.

"Of course I think you're going to vote for me. You want to know why?"

"Why?" he grits out.

"Because I know your secret. Twenty-five years ago, you got a woman pregnant. That woman then had a daughter. Your daughter. Instead of claiming them and taking care of them, you abandoned them, turned your back on them. Do you even know where she is right now?"

Sebastian's eyes widen.

"How do you know all that?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters now is what I plan to do with that information. Do you think your daughter will be happy to know who you are? Maybe I'll pay her a visit."

"No! She has no reason to be a part of this life. Leave her the fuck alone!" he snaps.

"If you want me to, you know what you have to do, Seb," I tell him.

His expression twists into one of rage. "You'll pay for this, Ramirez. I promise you."

"That was the last time you will ever open your mouth to threaten me. After the meeting tonight, I'll be Don, and you'll respect me."

"Burn in hell," he spits.

"You know I always draw a lot of consolation from the fact that even if I do end up in hell, I certainly won't be lonely. Bastards like you will be right next to me. Let's go. The table awaits."

Later that night, when I step out of the meeting room, it's with a new title and the realization that I have finally succeeded in getting what I want. Oddly enough, she's the first person I want to talk to. Adrian tries to speak to me once we leave the room, but I ignore him in favor of getting to Aurora.

She's in one of the several offices in this house, writing something in a notebook. The door is open, so I simply walk in. She looks up at me when I do, golden brown eyes gliding over my frame. She doesn't speak for a couple of moments and neither do I. We simply observe each other until I break the silence.

"What are you up to?" I question.

She shrugs. "Just drawing out some plans."

I step forward until I'm standing in front of the chair she's in. "Can I see?"

She hesitates for only a second before handing me the notebook. I flip through the designs. Room layouts, furniture placements. It's all incredibly vibrant and realistic.

"You didn't go to art school," I state, the thought suddenly crossing my mind.

Her lips thin. "No, Nico, I didn't study art. It was always just a hobby, not something I was planning on doing seriously with my life."

"But you considered it. So why didn't you go through with it?" I prompt. "Come on, Aurora. You can tell me."

She looks away, running a hand through her hair. "Because it wasn't feasible or realistic. When we left, it was just Lucia and I. I had no idea what the future held, and I wasn't sure art was the right way to go in order for me to become successful. I chose a clearer path, and it paid off."

There's probably something else that she's not telling me, but I'm not in the position to push.

"I get that," I tell her gently. "You did your best, mi vida ."

I'm genuinely proud of the choices she made to get to where she is today. Maybe one day I'll tell her that. She relaxes slightly, looking back into my eyes.

"I'm guessing you're Don now," she states when I don't speak again. "How does it feel?"

I think about that for a moment before shrugging.

"How do you think it feels?"

"I hope it makes you happy. Especially considering how much you sacrificed to get to this point," she says softly.

Her words have the intended effect. They feel like a punch to my gut. I hate it when she says shit like that, clearly meant to hurt me. It makes me want to hurt her in return.

"Our wedding is in two weeks," I inform her, moving on because I don't want to dwell on what she said.

She shrugs. "Okay."

"Last chance to back out."

"Why would I do that? It's not like it's going to be real. Nothing I've ever shared with you is real."

My chest tightens, and I step forward.

"Take that back." I glare at her.

She lifts her chin, expression resolute. "No. I meant what I said."

"You know, one of these days, you'll be honest with me about what you really feel."

"I doubt that."

"Make sure to pick a pretty wedding dress, Aurora. Fake or not, I'll make sure this will be your last chance to wear one."

Her eyes widen. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

I tilt my head to the side. "What do you think it means?"

Her lips part like she's about to start yelling, but I turn around and leave before she can. I can't help but wonder why I sought her out in the first place.

Despite the fact that the reason is embedded in my heart, and I know why I always come back for more.

I stand at the altar at the front of a church that is filled to the brim with men and women, the families who have sworn their allegiance to me. They all sit still, waiting for the Don to get married to the woman of his dreams.

Or my nightmares. It can always go either way. Adrian is behind me, performing his self-elected duty as the best man.

The double doors at the front of the chapel open. When Aurora appears, my breath hitches. She might drive me insane half the time, but there's no denying the fact that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She looks perfect, magnificent even, as she walks down the aisle, arm in arm with Sebastian who's the closest thing she has to a father.

Her wedding dress is a masterpiece. The bodice hugs her figure, intricate lace patterns trailing down her arms and across her chest. The skirt of her dress flows into a long train that follows her with each step she takes. The bouquet in her hands is a burst of white roses. She's not wearing a veil because Aurora Maranzano always plays by her own rules.

Her eyes meet mine, and in that moment, everything else fades away. I can almost pretend we're two people in love getting married instead of two people with a decade of hate and unspoken conversations between them.

When she reaches me, I take her hand in mine.

"You look beautiful," I say in a soft whisper.

"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself," she returns.

The chapel falls silent as we stand in front of each other. The preacher is a kind-faced, elderly man with a calm, steady voice. He's also fake, unlicensed, with zero pastoral inclinations. Danny found him and paid him a lot of money to get him to officiate the wedding.

It's a little blasphemous, considering we are still getting married in a church, but I'm sure Aurora's Father in Heaven will forgive her, since she's the one that wanted this.

The man clears his throat before starting to speak. He's a good actor who remembers every single one of his lines. He turns to look at me when it's time to say my vows.

"Nicolas, do you take Aurora to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold…" I tune the rest of it out and say the words, "I do", at the right moment.

When it's Aurora's turn, she says her vows, looking into my eyes as she speaks. I wish she hadn't, because now the weight of the vows are resting on my chest. I've never been a religious person. And I know this is all fake anyway.

But for some reason, it feels fucking real to me. She might not believe the words she's saying. I'm not sure I do either. But I do make myself a promise that one day, we'll get to the point where we're both ready to start believing in them.

It's something I've been keeping to myself all this while. The reason I'm going to all this trouble. Marrying her wasn't my only option to get to this position. But it was the path I wanted to take in order to keep her close to me.

The preacher places his hands over ours and says, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

I step closer to her and finally her expression flickers, doubt and fear intertwined in those golden-brown eyes. Words are easy, but this…this is something real. And she hates that, because it'll pierce the armor she's painstakingly put on. The world seems to hold its breath as I lean in, our faces inches apart.

"You and I both know how this ends," I whisper, right before I claim her lips with mine.

A surge of passion rushes through me. Her lips are sweet and warm, tasting faintly of lemons. I feel her breath hitch as I pull her closer, my hands gently cradling her face. The kiss deepens, our mouths moving in perfect harmony, expressing everything neither of us have been able to say from the first moment we saw each other again. She kisses me back with just as much fervor, her hands clutching my arms.

She's completely pliant in my hold. I kiss her as if I'll never be able to stop doing so, and she kisses me like she wants to break this connection but can't. The kiss is both a retribution and a promise. It awakens memories. It awakens every single thing I've tried so hard to bury. It tosses me right back into the past. Right back to that night.