Page 32 of No Sweeter Poison

And then I say goodbye.

SILENCE IS A WEAPON

Three Weeks Later

Alejandro

L ettie enters the room and I hold my breath. The moment she shakes her head my entire body deflates.

“Nothing?”

“Not a bite.” She draws a silk shawl around her shoulders and makes a graceful descent onto the lounge chair by the window. “She meant it when she said she didn’t want anything from you. Can’t help but respect her for it. She certainly knows how to prove a point.”

“She’s going to kill herself.”

Lettie produces a nail file seemingly out of thin air. Eighteen years and I still haven’t figured her out completely. “Yes. She did say she’d rather let her corpse rot in this house in death than be its captive in life.”

That argument was about ten days ago. She’s fucking Latina all right, with that same streak of dramatic all little girls inherit from their beloved telenovelas.

I can’t think about that right now. If Dahlia wants to continue with her tantrum, then so be it. I have more important things to do. Like keeping her fucking safe.

Last month’s shootout was orchestrated by none other than my dear friend Sandro Sandoval who heard from Luis Alberto Torres that the land I originally offered him, and he rejected, is now being offered to the Spanish branch of the Irish O’Neil family. Sandro and Rian O’Neil hate each other with such a profound passion that I’m almost a little jealous. Unluckily enough for me, Torres instead wants the land I offered to the Muniz family and because I owe him a favor, I’m must oblige. The Muniz family is notoriously disloyal to their allies, with the exception of the Sandovals, whom they’re related to through marriage.

I’m sure Sandro was just itching for the opportunity to put out the hit and he finally found one.

The last of Sandoval’s men from the shoot-out, Nando Ibanez and Luis Montenegro, are still at large. Sandro apparently has a price on their head but that isn’t unexpected. Although I haven’t addressed it yet, he knows that in order to exonerate himself, Ibanez and Montenegro need to die.

Los muertos guardan sus secretos, as Abuelo would say.

Witnesses to his failed murder attempt would destroy the peace within this city. More than a few crime families owe their fortunes to Salazar Narvaez as well as their loyalty. They’d be honor bound to defend their ally in a crisis. Only problem here is, Sandoval has half a dozen sicarios on the street looking for my “mystery girl,” the last witness. He must figure he’ll kill two birds with one stone; kill the last witness to the massacre he provoked and piss me off in the process. It isn’t a secret that the last woman I was in a serious relationship with was his stepsister, Regina. And everyone knows how that ended.

Diego and I are especially clandestine with our romantic pursuits and almost never date women in Spain. Must’ve set off some alarm bells when Sandro heard there was a woman in the car with me. That part of our lives stays abroad, where the risk of getting attached or putting an innocent woman in danger are much, much smaller. Besides, flings aren’t worth anything in this world.

Now, a woman you bring to your family home in Vallvidrera? One that’s seen where you live, been to the lounge you own with your siblings? That’s something else entirely.

All these weeks later I still don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid, so irresponsible. How could I have fallen to temptation so easily? So quickly? If it was just me paying the consequences of my actions it would be one thing but Dahlia doesn’t deserve to suffer here.

No matter how I gild this cage it will still be a cage.

“Any news on Ibanez and Montenegro?”

Ibanez and Montenegro are the ones who fired at us. One of them zeroed in on Dahlia as she tried to escape.

Lettie takes the cue and changes the subject. “No. Last I heard, they were somewhere in Granada hiding out with the De La Vegas.”

There’s no hiding my disdain. God, I hate the De La Vegas. And so do half the other families so at least I’m not alone.

They’re pompous, obnoxious, and irresponsible which is why most people choose not to conduct business with them. Their current patriarch, Don Fulgencio, married a countess decades ago and now they like to make a show of their “noble blood”. Neither money nor pedigree was ever able to buy them an ounce of class.

From my research, Ibanez is a distant relative of the De La Vegas through his father’s side. I’m not surprised he sought refuge there with his accomplice.

In different circumstances, I’d care less whether they lived or died but they’re the last two people who know what Dahlia looks like. One day they could each put together a single brain cell and exchange that information for their lives. Sandro would let them live if they gave him what he perceives as something far more valuable.

The weapon to destroy me.

I feel responsible for Dahlia. I’m the one who dragged her into this mess which means I’m the one that has to save her from it.

“Alex!”