Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Why can’t you let me live my life? Huh? Why is it so hard for you to let me have any normalcy? Why can’t you trust me to make the right decisions?”
Our father remained eerily calm, placing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He simply replied, “Trust is earned, peladita.” Calling her a little girl in Spanish only earned him a disdainful expression through the slits in her eyes. She hated being called a little girl, as much as she hated him treating her like one. She despised it more than anything, and he’d been doing it all her life.
“And what have I done not to have your trust? Huh? You barely let me out of your sight. I was homeschooled up until my sophomore year of high school, but Cruz was allowed to go to school since he could walk. How is that fair?”
Everywhere she went, I followed. Along with three armed men. The private school we once attended was funded by our father. He built the library, the cafeteria, the goddamn football field.
Money always ruled with an iron fist.
Administration let us do whatever we wanted because of the almighty dollar.
“I never said life was fair, Adriana. How many times must I remind you, everything I do is to protect you?”
“Papá—”
“Cruz,” my father interrupted her. Cocking his head to the side, he peered over at me. “You make sure she doesn’t leave your sight tonight. You’re her protection. I have business to attend to first. I’ll meet you there.”
“Oh my God! It’s a graduation party! Are you for real? What exactly do you think is going to happen? I’m going to eat cake and stumble upon a dic—”
“Protect my sister. Protect my mother. I’ve heard this my entire life,” I chimed in, unable to hold back any longer. “I already know, considering your goons have guarded us within an inch of their lives for as long as I can remember. But tell me, Padre?” I emphasized father in Spanish. “What exactly am I protecting them from?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Adriana grinning at me. Proud as fuck I was taking her side. Our mother was currently on our father’s private jet, on her way home from visiting her family in Oak Island. When she wasn’t around, his demons decided to come out and play.
“Don’t question me, Crucifixio. You do as I say.”
It was my turn to narrow my eyes at our father. Searching for the answers I desperately wanted since the moment I realized our life wasn’t normal by anyone’s standards but his. Growing up with bodyguards would do that to a child. You’ll inherently doubt everything.
The rumors.
The light whispers.
The outright obedience our father commanded any time he walked into a room, wasn’t something we could ever overlook. It was blatantly displayed right in front of our eyes. Although no one ever told us why…
We always knew.
We’d seen the evidence with our own two eyes. The internet was a powerful tool we had at our disposal. Photos of the people who crossed him and didn’t live to tell about it were merely a click away on the world wide web. Though I had yet to meet this man people used to call The Devil. We’d see glimpses of him, mostly in battles like these.
Never once had he admitted who he truly was.
Is.
I felt it in the deepest part of my bones. In the center of my being. The truth hidden in plain sight. The devil I was born to be, reflected in his daunting, seedy eyes. The fire, the darkness, the soulless glare stared back at me every time he barked an order.
He knew it too.
He felt what I saw.
Now don’t get me wrong, he was an amazing father. We loved him as much as he loved us. But when it came to his family, El Diablo arose from the depths of the hell he buried himself in. Faking his own death. His enemies might have thought he was dead, though his demons…
The ones he fought with and tried to hide from everyone, were still thriving and breathing all around us. It was Luciferian, his eternal flames scorching us alive.
“Where are you going?”
“Where I go is none of your concern, and quite frankly, Cruz, it’s none of your business.”
Except, it wasn’t just him they were clawing for. They laid in wait, preying on what they really thirsted for…
Me.
“What if I’m making it my business?”
Chapter 2
—Cruz—
He didn’t move, he didn’t make a sound. If our father was amused or taken back with what I challenged, he didn’t show it for one second. No matter the situations or the circumstances, Alejandro Martinez was always in control of his emotions. You never knew what the man was thinking or feeling, or what punishment he’d deem fit once he decided the argument was over.