Page 77 of No Sweeter Poison

On cue, footsteps from down the hall echo into the room but the sound is too sharp and high-pitched, like a woman’s stiletto hitting concrete. At first I think it might be Lettie but she’d never sit in on one of these meetings. Not out in the open, at least. She’s supposed to be watching from behind the gilded mirror at the front of the room, gaudy and near useless because of the high angle it’s at. It’s deceptively decorative to conceal the two-way mirror on the other side.

No one expects Regina Sandoval to walk through those doors. Least of all me.

She moves through the room with confidence and authority, head held high like she cannot be bothered to make eye contact with anyone else. Almost seamlessly, she and Armando exchange seats and he takes his place at the back of the room with everyone else who doesn’t have a seat at the table. Her entrance lasts no more than a full thirty seconds and yet, the entire room is on edge. Tension leaks into the air, snuffing out all the oxygen and one too many Dons shift uncomfortably in their seat. Even they can’t hide their shock.

Regina and I haven’t seen each other in three years. Everyone knows and try as they might, there’s no avoiding the massive elephant in the room.

Diego and I exchange glances and he gives a slight nod. I’ve managed to remain apathetic in her presence, which is a feat onto itself.

Sandro that sneaky, conniving bastard, sending his sister instead hoping it’ll throw me off. God, what I wouldn’t give for one clear shot at his jaw. I’d make the punch worthwhile.

“I apologize,” she announces to the room. “There was an issue at the airport.”

Don Alfonso looks to me, hesitating at the door, wondering if he should seal the proverbial tomb. I give a slight nod of the head and he closes the door, trapping us all inside.

“Where’s your brother?” I ask.

“Which one?” she parries back.

A beat passes and I make a conscientious effort to loosen my jaw before one of my molars cracks. “The one who’s actually head of your family.”

She lights a cigarette. Her knuckles turn white. “Sandro sends his regards. He’s taken ill recently.”

“Is that so?”

She exhales deeply and nods. A cloud of smoke engulfs her features. “I’m acting capo until he recovers.”

“Not Armando?”

Her patience wanes as she snaps at me. “Why not me?”

“Aside from the fact that there isn’t a drop of Sandoval blood running through your veins, I’d have thought the answer was obvious.”

Regina simmers quietly in place. A crease forms between her brows and soft lines form around her mouth. To anyone else she appears slightly agitated but otherwise calm. Only I know that when she holds her lighter tighter, inhales deeper, she’s thinking about the two of us. Even when we were together, she was a mystery to me, her thoughts and emotions often disguised by measured indifference and cavalier charm. But her tells are still the same.

She looks at me now the way she did the day of our wedding. When she came into my room and begged me to understand, to listen.

We could leave this all behind. We could run away, we could betogether.

How? I’ll spend my life loving you with one hand and waiting to catch your dagger in my back with the other.

Not much has changed in three years. When we were younger, her hair used to be blonder, a few shades lighter than Lettie’s natural golden brown. Now it’s chestnut, falling in waves past her shoulders, the same natural color as her brows and lashes. As a child, she was a pageant princess and may have gone further if the Sandovals hadn’t put a stop to it. It’s not difficult to imagine. She’s lovely.

Heartbreakingly, almost menacingly so. No one should ever look so perfect or well-manicured, but she does. Her long face and bold features are accentuated by delicate, bronze makeup that adds color to her sandy complexion. And once she exhales and the smoke around her face clears, I see her eyes, deep and brown, just like I remember them.

“Alejandro.” My brother’s voice finds me from across the room. “I believe we’re ready to begin?”

He’s right. There’s no use wasting time in a back and forth with Regina and I don’t want Dahlia here any longer than she needs to be.

“I’ll keep this brief,” I announce to the room. “I’d like to thank everyone for making accommodations to their schedules. We know how busy you all are and I hope that a meeting between the twelve of us will allow for business to continue uninterrupted.”

A murmur of agreement echoes throughout the room. Regina attempts to meet my gaze but I make it a point not to look at her.

“As you all know, we’ve encountered numerous obstacles when attempting to redefine the division of power in Barcelona, and by extension, the rest of the region. It is with that in mind we announce our intention to cease all distributions of property, territory, businesses, and assets.”

There’s a pause and a few more murmurs but silence follows almost immediately after.

“The Narvaez family is halting all future plans for legitimization.”