Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Outside again, I cross the parking lot to meet Santiago, standing as I left him, leaning against the car with his arms crossed and an angry expression on his face. Then, I hear my name.
“Valentina Rojas!”
I turn to see a woman, clearly in law enforcement by her drab gray suit, running to meet me. I raise a hand to stop Santiago from doing something foolish and wait for the woman to catch up. “Is there another statement needed?”
“No,” she says, breathless when she stops in front of me. “I am Agent Antonia Stiles, FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”
FBI? I remember Papa’s warning. We don’t talk to law enforcement. So, I maintain my composure and shake my head. “No, you can’t. Why?”
The woman smiles. “Please, it's important.”
I scoff when I answer. “Agent Stiles, I don’t have any information that you could want.” I glance over at Santiago to see if he’s watching us. He is.
She stares at me for a long moment and nods. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk, and I’ll decide if what you know can help me?”
A part of me wants to talk to her. This woman could be my ticket away from Papa’s control, from Emiliano’s overprotective tyranny. But she could also be the person to end my family’s legacy—a legacy I'm proud of, despite the current turmoil. I want to talk to her, to spite my brother, but I won’t betray my family. Ever.
“I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me, Papa is waiting.” Without giving her a chance to regroup, I then turn to Santiago and slip inside the car door he’s holding open for me.
As we drive away from the station, I glance back at Agent Stiles. She stands there watching us, her expression unreadable. Santiago notices and narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
I can’t shake the feeling that Agent Stiles might hold the key to my future. Not that I would betray my family, but her presence reminds me that there’s a world beyond my family’s control, one where I could make my own choices without fear of retribution. But for now, I push the thought to the back of my mind, focusing on my immediate concerns.
We arrive back at the hotel, and I rush to my room, hoping for a moment of solitude. As I stand in front of the mirror, I see the reflection of the bruises on my body, reminders of my time with Dix. I smile, feeling a sense of freedom that only he has been able to give me.
Suddenly, a text message buzzes on my phone. I grab it, expecting to see Dix’s name, but my heart drops when I read the sender’s name. Agent Antonia Stiles. How did she get this number? I hesitantly open the message, my pulse racing.
Valentina, I understand you can’t talk right now, but know that if you ever need help or a way out, I’m here for you. Your safety is my priority. Agent Stiles.
My breath catches in my throat as I read her words, and I get a sense of unease. What does she know? Why is she reaching out to me? And most importantly, what does this mean for the family?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dix
Banger rubs his hands together and blows on them for warmth. “It’s cold as fuck out here, Dix. Why couldn’t this shit come in later in the day when I don’t have to leave a warm woman in bed to come here?”
I laugh because I agree with Banger. It is cold as fuck. It’s early morning, before the fucking sun is even thinking about making an entrance for the day. It’s practically the middle of the goddamn night, and we’re at the port waiting on the next shipment from Colombia. But, duty calls and I volunteered to wait it out with Banger in order to make amends.
“Arturo needs to show that he has the upper hand. That’s all this shit is.” There’s no point bitching about it since we’re already here, at least until the shipment arrives. “How’s Willow?”
Banger shakes his head before taking a break from warming up his hands. “She’s better. I mean, she’s tougher than she looks, but the nightmares are something she can’t control. Spends a lot of time at For Goodness Cakes with Maven. She helps oversee the remodel and pitches in when she can to prep for the grand re-opening.” He shrugs. “She says it’s helping, but I ain’t so sure.”
I remind him that, “Willow is new to this life. She might have dreamed about it, but I doubt she ever imagined having to kill someone herself, never mind at close range.”
Banger nods his agreement.
“It’s rough,” I say, “that first kill. And unless you’re a complete fucking sociopath, it doesn’t get easier.”
Banger’s eyes go sad on me. “Fuck man,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s some heavy shit to deal with, and when she wakes up with tears in those pretty blue eyes, I feel like a limp dick piece of shit. All I can do is hold her and let her know I’m here for her.”