9. Javier

Chapter 9

Javier

E verything is unraveling, and it's all on me. The ironclad resolve that has driven me for years is now weakening, all because of one woman—an untouchable woman, the daughter of my enemy. This must be divine punishment.

To add to the mix, I also discovered that I'm a coward, and this is why I've let her down for the past two days.

I played the sick card. Fuck, I'm pathetic. Leaning my head back on the sofa, I stare at the ceiling. A thirty-four-year-old man hiding because he kissed a girl he shouldn't have.

Good job, Javier. I wonder what Tiago would have to say about that.

My phone beeps with a text beside me. I glance at it but ignore it.

It beeps again. And again.

I let out a long sigh and grab the phone.

Ophelia: Are you coming today?

Ophelia: Please, just for today. I can't let down people at Hope and Harmony Day—My father's other guards won't let me go.

Ophelia: Let's pretend nothing happened. It was a huge mistake. Please, Javier, don't do this to me.

My resolve shatters once again. She did nothing wrong—my jealousy caused this mess. With a groan, I sit up, raking my hand through my hair. I can't keep avoiding her; she shouldn't suffer for my mistakes. I text back.

Me: I'll be there in thirty minutes.

I don't wait for her response. I get up, get dressed, and try to steel myself for what's to come. I need to focus on the mission, not on how she makes me feel. But the thought of seeing her again, of facing her after everything, makes my stomach twist.

When I arrive at the Bergotti estate, I'm greeted by the usual guards. They nod as I pass, and I can feel their eyes on me, judging, assessing. I brush it off and head to the main house.

Ophelia waits at the door, her face lighting up when she sees me. The sight is a punch to the chest. I force a neutral expression.

"Thank you for coming," she says, her voice soft, sincerity evident.

"I said I would." I try for detachment, but her proximity and vulnerability make it difficult.

"We should get going. The event starts soon." She turns and leads the way to the car, and I follow, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

The drive to the Hope and Harmony event is suffocatingly silent. Ophelia's glances prick at my skin, silent words hanging in the air. Eventually, she breaks the silence.

"Javier, about the other night…"

"Don't." I cut her off, my tone sharper than intended. "It was a mistake. It doesn't mean anything."

She flinches, and I immediately regret my words. But before I can apologize, we arrive at the destination, and she all but jumps out of the car.

I stay seated in the car for a few minutes, kicking myself for not knowing exactly where the event was taking place. A rookie mistake. I wince at the sight of San Miguel Church, knowing Tiago will be here and that I'll likely endure a sermon later. I glance back, but Ophelia is already out of sight.

I get out of the car and walk slowly to where I saw her disappear. If I were a religious man, I would start praying, asking for God's leniency—something that he never granted me—and allow us to go through the day without crossing Tiago's path and his all-seeing eyes. I should know better, and if I was not convinced before, I am now because if there is a God, he must truly hate me as I see her at some sort of baked goods stand with none other than the great Father Hernandez standing on the other side chatting with her.

Her gaze falls on me as I approach, and she stiffens, causing Tiago to turn around. His face is friendly enough, but his eyes are burning with his fiery judgment.

"Here we fucking go," I mutter as I stop by the table.

"Father Hernandez, let me introduce you to Javier Vargas." She beams at him. Of course she does. Everybody loves Tiago—it must have something to do with the holy habit. I almost snicker at that. I've seen Tiago's unholy side, and it could rival all the demons of hell.

"No need to make an introduction. I know Mr. Vargas quite well," Tiago says, his tone carrying some judgment.

"Yes, childhood friends and all that," I reply with a shrug, knowing our relationship is far more complicated than that.

"It's so lovely to meet you, flower girl. It's nice to put a name to a face."

"Flower girl?" I can't help but ask, and by the way her cheeks color, I want to know so much more.

"Yes, Ophelia has quite a reputation in the neighborhood for helping everyone—from the homeless to kids, not forgetting stray animals. She's really a good soul with a pure heart. You're lucky to know her."

Tiago's steady gaze pierces me, an unspoken condemnation. I try to shake it off, focusing on Ophelia instead. Her wide, innocent eyes brim with concern, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. I'm determined to keep it that way.

She waves her hand dismissively. That's what she does, dismissing all her goodness as if it means nothing instead of what it truly is… everything. "It's not much."

"It is," Tiago insists. "It's everything you have to give. It's easy for people to give money when they have so much they can't even spend it all."

I feel that one was for me, and fuck him for that! I give money to all his causes without batting an eye.

"Phee!" A young boy comes running breathlessly.

She turns toward him, and part of me mourns the loss of eye contact .

"Megan is sick, and she can't do the makeup. Can you do it?"

"Hey T, I'm sorry, but I'm hel?—"

The woman from the bakery laughs. "You go help him, it's clearly more urgent."

"So, Father Hernandez, may I interest you in a baked good?" she asks, and I watch Ophelia as she disappears into the crowd.

I take a step to follow her, but Tiago moves back a step, stopping me in my tracks. Yes, he's not done with me.

"Do you have anything with chocolate? It's my weakness," he tells the woman, still ignoring me.

"Yes." She extends him a muffin. "Peanut butter and chocolate. Let me know what you think."

He reaches into his pocket and gives her five dollars. "Keep the change."

"What about you?" Her whole demeanor changes when she looks at me. She's not a fan.

"Do you have one of the Danishes Phee loves so much?"

Tiago shoots me a sharp look, making me realize my mistake in calling her Phee publicly.

"Ah, she's got you hooked too, doesn't she?"

In more ways than one, I think, managing a nod.

She reaches under the table and gets the pastry for me, and I give her ten dollars, telling her to keep the change as well.

"Phee, huh?" Tiago starts as we make our way through the crowd.

I shrug, taking a bite.

"She's a nice girl, Javier, a real nice girl. You have to?—"

We both stop talking, stopping a few steps from the makeup stand. Ophelia is already there, her focus entirely on the man in front of her.

"Is that—" I begin, but Tiago finishes for me.

"Derek."

The jealousy I feel at the easy smile she's giving him is immediately obliterated when he starts laughing. Derek laughs. I turn to Tiago just as he turns to me, and I'm sure the incredulity on his face is a mirror of mine.

"I've never heard him laugh before," I tell Tiago. At least not a full, real belly laugh. I've heard his sadistic, sarcastic, and dark laughs, but a genuinely happy one? Not even once in the twenty-five years I've known the man.

"No, me neither." Tiago shakes his head. "She's something."

"Yes, yes, she is." We approach the stall in silence. Ophelia looks up and smiles, a small, bright spot in the mess of my emotions.

"Derek," Tiago greets, stepping closer. "Didn't peg you for a Spiderman at heart."

Derek snorts, gesturing to a skinny boy peeking shyly from the tent. "Our little guy here wasn't convinced it was cool. Just proving him wrong."

"Supercool," Ophelia confirms, winking at Derek. Once again, I feel my jaw tighten.

"Yes, that's precious," I say a little harsher than I intend to, and I can feel Tiago's eyes on me as Derek sends me a look that seems to say, "Fuck you."

"Javier, do you have a minute?" Tiago asks, his tone not leaving any room for discussion. That must be a priest thing he learned during seminary. "I just need help with some extra chairs."

"You go; I'm not going anywhere," Ophelia replies, leaning a little too close to Derek's face to draw some black lines.

"I don't think you need to lean that close to his face, Ophelia. This is for children."

She frowns, and Derek smirks. That fucking asshole.

"Just go. I'll keep her safe."

Am I the only one to hear the double entendre? Tiago nudges me, and I follow him a couple of steps behind, like a petulant child.

"What is Derek doing here? It's not his scene."

"Why do you say that? I'll have you know he comes to help at every charity event the church is involved in. You'd know that if you bothered showing up every once in a while." I look heavenward, searching for some bogus divine force.

"I send you big fat checks for every single one of them." I defend myself.

"Yes, so you can write them off on your taxes. Your presence would be appreciated every once in a while."

"Very well, Father Hernandez. I'll keep that in mind."

He throws me a look full of exasperation before shaking his head.

"You know, Javier, it's not just about the money. It's about showing up, being part of the community. Ophelia understands that. Maybe you should try to learn from her."

I grit my teeth, biting back a retort. I know he's right, but admitting that is a bitter pill to swallow. Instead, I follow him to the stack of chairs and start hauling them back to the tent. As we work, my mind keeps drifting back to Ophelia and Derek, wondering what they're talking about and what's making them laugh.

Once we're done with the chairs, I wipe my hands together and get ready to leave the tent.

"What's really happening here, Javier?"

"I'm helping you move chairs like you asked."

He gives me a knowing look. "What's happening with her ?"

My heart skips a beat. I swallow hard.

"I may be a priest, but I'm not blind. You look at her like?—"

I cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest. "It's in your head, Tiago. She's barely more than a kid. There's nothing there. We just share a common interest, nothing more. I'd never cross that line. Look at her!"

"I have, and she's pretty, clever, and unbelievably generous."

"Are you the one who needs the talk?"

He shakes his head. "Deflection won't work. You can't go down this path, Javier. It's wrong on so many levels. Under different circumstances, I'd be thrilled to see you like this, but knowing what I know, I can't condone it."

His words sting. "Since when do you get a say in my love life? How many times did you tell me to move on? Was that all a lie?"

"Not like this! She's a good person. This can only end badly. I won't let history repeat itself."

I sometimes forget how deeply Tiago shares my trauma. Shaking my head, I know this isn't the time or place for this fight, especially when everything he says is painfully true.

"I better get back to Ophelia."

Tiago sighs, his shoulders slumping. "Yes, you do that."

When I walk out and back to the makeup tent, I see Derek working on the little boy from before with the model photo in his hand.

"Where's Ophelia?" I ask, maybe a little too harshly, as the little boy flinches on his seat. I force a smile.

Derek looks up, still ridiculous with his Spiderman painting. "She had to leave and went to find you. I thought she told you. Something about an emergency. She got into an Uber like two minutes ago."

My heart stops; I hate that, and I can't help but wonder if she heard anything. I didn't incriminate myself, but what I said wasn't kind.

Me: Where are you?

Ophelia: On my way home. I couldn't find you.

I'm not sure I buy that.

Me: Couldn't it wait?

Ophelia: No, Romero is at my house and I need to to talk to him about our date before he leaves. Oh I won't need you the next few days. You can rest and relax. You did look a little pasty. I think you're still sick.

I grit my teeth, grabbing my phone so hard I'm surprised it doesn't crack.

Me: Don't do this.

And I wait, but no reply comes. I'm angry, no, I'm not angry, I'm furious. I feel betrayed, and most of all, I'm jealous to the point where I can see myself breaking every bone of that boy's body.

My fists clench, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The fury is overwhelming, a red haze clouding my vision. I need to get a grip—need to find a way to calm down before I do something I'll regret.

"Javier, you okay?" Derek's voice cuts through the fog, and I look up to see him watching me, concern etched on his face. It's almost laughable, Derek worrying about me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie, my voice tight.

He nods, but the look in his eyes tells me he doesn't believe me. "You sure? You look like you're about to tear someone apart."

I look at my watch. "I have no reason to stay here. Don't worry, I'll write Father Hernandez a fat check as usual."

As I walk away, I try to shake off the jealousy, the rage. But as I head back to my car, all I can think about is her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at Derek and worst of all, a date with Romero. It's tearing me apart, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it together.