Leadership.

The ability of an individual or a group of individuals to influence and instruct followers or other members of an organization. All my life, I've been a follower. I was never a person who spoke up in classes. No, I stayed on the sidelines, observing the world spin on its axis without engaging with it.

People like my brother, Luka, and papa were born to be leaders.

They went after what they wanted with no remorse. Leaders don't wait for orders — they create them. They won't let a single individual question their leadership without putting them into place. If they cannot submit, they're cut from the group. But what if a leader can be sympathetic? Forgiving?

Is that where I come in?

Is this my chance to flip everything on its axis and be the leader with a legacy left once I'm gone?

Mateo ties the binds around the fucker's wrist, cutting the circulation from how tight it is. He screams into the rag in his mouth, fighting against the resistance on his body. The rest of his busy bee friends are on the floor, stained with bullet wounds in their skulls. I don't bother looking.

But I can't forget how haunted their dead eyes look.

It's horrifying, like waking up from a veritable nightmare.

"You can't steal from the Morterero familia and get the fuck away from it," Mateo screams, smashing his fist into his chin, sending him flying back to the ground.

Limon and Julian grab the fucker and stand him back up in the chair. A harsh breath leaves his nostrils as his horror-filled irises flutter over all of us. Julian rubs his hands together, flashing the slightest smirk as he gestures for Limon to give him the plastic bag. The fucker's eyes widen, halting in his movement as the silence grows eerie. Before the fucker had a chance to think, Julian stuffed his face in the bag and yanks on it, slashing his connection to oxygen.

"Do it!" Mateo orders, flashing his sinister eyes towards the dying man like he's hungry for his blood.

My throat clogs up.

Can I do this again? He was stealing from you. He thinks you're weak. Everyone thinks you're weak. Show them what the real Asiel Morterero is made of. I shake my head, silencing the voices. They can't control me. I have to learn how to conquer my demons. And become the man I want to be. The man that Mika deserves-- the man that can dominate the world without tainting the virtue.

With trembling hands, I unclip the safety clip on the gun and align the gun to his forehead. Mateo glides his tongue over his teeth as if he's feasting for this moment. He's a criminal, a sinner, a person that deserves this. My heart pumps against my chest, banging against every fragment of my body. There are no takebacks. I pull the trigger, watching the bullet strike his forehead.

Blood spatters on the bag, and his movements cease to exist as his head loops to the side. Julian forms a knot on the back of the plastic bag and grabs his gun, firing five shots for extra insurance.

Limon pats my back. "Good job, Jefe. You get more badass every day."

"Right." Mateo drags his finger below his bottom lip. "Now, we can go enjoy Asiel's bachelor's party with a couple of strippers."

My face sours at the mention of strippers. "I didn't know that's what you're planning. I rather head home to my girl."

Limon clicks his tongue with annoyance. "Primo, she has you wrapped around her little finger. She has you pussy whipped."

"True. Mika does." I reply with amusement lingering in my tone. "Jealous?"

Mateo swats the back of Limon's hair, causing a pained groan to drop from his lips. "Let lover boy be! The strippers are for us because we all know, Asiel wouldn't cheat on his fiance, right?"

"Never ever."

"I don't want to be a part of stripper party either," Julian adds, rolling the corpse into a black plastic bag.

"Bro, then what's the point?" Limon complains, rolling his eyes. "I miss Gato. He would fuck ten bitches and then lie in bed with his wife. An inspiration."

I arch my brow at my cousin. "That's what you looked up to? Wouldn't you want to lie in bed with your true love for the rest of your life?"

Mateo and Limon sport a look of concern as they roll the other bodies into their separate black bags. Julian remains stoic. It's his signature reaction. He doesn't ever talk much or confess his intentions. I think that's why he's always been my bodyguard, because he never spoke shit about me. He was a late addition to the time, but I could trust him to put my life first. Everyone else here talked about me one way or another.

"I commend you because I couldn't fuck one girl for the rest of my life." Limon laughs like a hyena. "God didn't supply us with a thousand girls to pick only one. No, he wants us to try everything in the buffet."

Julian clears his throat. "Not everyone wants to sleep with every girl they lay eyes on."

"Okay, so you are telling me you never wanted to fuck Mika before? She's one of the hottest girls I've ever seen. Anybody would pay a dollar to tap her ass. I still don't get how she chose Jefe out of everyone," Limon rants, throwing the body bag over his shoulder.

I grit my teeth, my body shaking with the need to shoot a bullet in Limon's skull. "You should thank Mika, Limon. Because us getting married soon is the only reason why I'm not bashing your skull in right now. Think twice before you speak about my fiance. She's a person, not an object."

Julian drops the body on the pile in the middle of the room. "Maybe she chose Jefe because he treats her like a person unlike you."

Mateo pants as he drops the last body in the collection of corpses in the middle of the room. "You're the only one that wants to do that."

"No," Limon scoffs, his lips protruding to a frown. "I'm the only one that's willing to admit it."

"Shut the fuck up before Asiel shoots a bullet through your skull," Mateo says, rolling the flint until the lighter turns on and tosses the flame into the bodies. "Let's go enjoy a few drinks at the bar before it's our baby cousin's bedtime."

"I don't have a bedtime," I mutter, narrowing my eyes at Mateo's irritating comment.

The spark erupts, causing an exquisite explosion with the bodies as fuel. It's almost comically beautiful. How a few dead bodies can create such a masterpiece? It's addicting to look at, watching the sparks explode in the air and land on the floor.

Mateo harshly kneads my shoulders. "Sure you don't, lover boy."

Mateo, Limon, and I follow Julian to the truck and hop in, observing the rustic roads morph into the busy city lights. The bright LED lights are blinding me, causing me to shield my eyes and look away. People stomp in the streets, misplacing their footing and falling on their faces. A few groups sit on the sidewalk, munching on street food in their club attire.

"Which club are we heading to?" Julian asks, placing his foot on the brake as the light changes to red. "Foxy? Swings? Ba-da bing?"

"Ba-da bing!" Mateo and Limon say in unison, clapping their hands together.

"The babes are always sexy there," Limon adds, rubbing his thigh up and down in preparation.

"Calm down." Mateo elbows Limon's stomach. "We don't need you wiping out your dick right now."

Limon rolls his eyes. "You guys aren't hot enough to get his dick cooking."

I cringe. "What the fuck?"

Julian parks on the side of the club, placing a special card on the windshield in case any cops pass by. Being a part of the cartel gets you a few privileges here and there. Like no parking fines unless they want to start a war. It's something that used to piss Gato the fuck off. He initiated multiple fights in the courtroom, refusing to pay a measly two-hundred dollars.

What a cheap ass.

Limon rubs his palms together before licking one and gliding across his hair as we enter the club. It's impossible to see anything with the vigor of the fog machine in the room. Red and purple lights blast through the space, following the beat of the pounding speakers. There are multiple poles on stage, with female and male strippers performing a show. Money litters the stage floors. One male stripper with bright fiery red hair grabs onto a girl in the crowd, giving her the sloppiest kisses I've ever seen.

Limon smears his lip balm on his thin lips and points at the blonde stripper with see-through undergarment. "I'm going to go for her. She's the hottest bitch here."

My face scrunches up at his foul language when Limon refers to a woman. "Okay. Have fun. I'm going to get a drink at the bar."

"Me too," Mateo chimes in, throwing a wad of cash at Limon. "Spoil her. That's the only way she's going to fuck your ugly ass."

Limon sticks up the middle finger. "Stop riding my dick, bro! I don't shoot for guys."

Mateo flicks him off and follows behind Julian as he squeezes through the hordes of people. The floor is slippery from all the drinks, being spilled by the dancing individuals. This scenery is nothing like Diablo's Paraiso. Maybe on the first floor, but the strip is classy--a respectful franchise.

A young brunette woman, probably in her early twenties, slams into Julian's chest, spilling her alcohol over his attire. Her eyes bulge out of their sockets as she rapidly wipes the liquid off his chest and rambles to the speed of light. It's impossible to hear her over the sound of the blaring music. The woman's eyes connect with Julian's, shrinking in size as sweat rolls down her cheek.

Faintly, I hear Julian say, "It's okay. I don't mind having alcohol spilled on me. It wouldn't be a night out at the club without it."

She fans her face, unable to keep eye contact with Julian for longer than two seconds. "Sorry, again. Enjoy the rest of your night."

It takes one second for her to blend in with the horde of people roaming around the club. Mateo taps Julian's shoulder, whispering something in his chest, which Julian shrugs off. Finally, Julian wedges himself into the edge of the bar, trying to get the attention of the bartender. When the bartender comes over, we order six beers and give a three-hundred-dollar tip. 

Mateo grabs an empty top table and drags his chair over. "I have another gift for us." He pulls out two ziplock baggies of white powder from his pocket. "It's heroin. I figure if you can't fuck anyone tonight-- you might as well get high."

My stomach plummets to the wet, sloppy floor. Maybe going to this scenery as a freshly sober addict is triggering. Drinking and hanging out with guys makes me want to jump out of my comfort zone and get high. It's one of those urges that lingers in the back of my head like a ticking clock-- a constant reminder.

Julian shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer. "I don't fuck with hardcore drugs."

Mateo arches his brow. "What do you say, Jefe?"

My mouth waters, eyeing the heroin with the hunger of a vampire needing to feed on blood. "I-I don't know. Isn't it bad to mix alcohol with drugs? I can't die before my wedding day. I promised Mika."

Mateo grabs my two beer bottles and pushes them towards Julian. "Well, you haven't taken a sip yet."

My heart pounds in my ears, blurring the vibrant music. "I-I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

Mateo shrugs, forming one line on the table. "Okay. Suit yourself." He covers one nostril and inhales the heroin, and I watch the entire thing like a cat.

My eyes are sharp and focus on the white powder residue on his nose. Mateo rubs his nose up and down, shaking his head as his eyes morph into a glossy look. Temptation sneaks up on me like a mosquito--the desire lodges in my throat, unable to find its way out. It grows and grows like weeds in a garden.

I scratch the nape of my neck. "I-I guess it wouldn't hurt."

Mateo smirks, forming two new lines on the table-- one on his side and the other on mine. With adrenaline circulating through my veins, I inhale the powder and feel the world shift on its axis. Everything becomes glossy, starry, like I'm not really there. Before we know it, Mateo empties both baggies, and we inhale every last bit.

The lights flash, and I can touch them. My finger swirls around in the colorful background like a water painting, leaking into my skin. Everything is quiet. Even in the club, the only thing I can listen to is my loud breathing. Everything tingles with the soothing sensation of floating through the unknown. It's like I'm alone, wandering through the dance floor for something--nothing? Air.

"Jefe!" Mateo calls out. "Where the hell are you going?"

I shrug, laughing. "I don't know."

"Let's go to one of the private rooms," Mateo says, grabbing my triceps and placing my arms over his shoulders. "I know one of the managers, so we got it for free. Let's go relax in there."

"Where's Julian?"

"He went to the bathroom," Mateo says as the colorful fluorescent lights fade to black in the grim hallways. "I'll text him to meet us there."

My back hits the surface of the cushioned booth, flailing my arms around like I was making an angel in the snow. Mateo slumps down on the other side, causing my side of the booth to jolt into the air from his brutal force. The incredible high begins to fade away, reality slowly sinking in as I start to feel everything.

Pain.

Agony.

Misery.

Love.

Fuck.

The voices are coming back.

"Asiel," Mateo says, rubbing the bottom of his chin. "You remember when I said if I found anything out about Mika, that I would tell you?"

Confusion lingers on my face. "Yeah?"

Mateo stands up from his seat, straightening up the cuffs on his sleeves. "Lately, I've been looking into your brother's case. It took an adequate amount of digging to find the killer, but I solved it. I found Mictlantecuhtli."

My eyebrows knit together. "What does this have to do with Mika?"

Mateo sits back on the bench, gripping my hands with a dreary glimmer in his gaze. "Asiel, this might be hard to hear, but I can't keep lying to you." He takes a long breath. "This is going to fuck you up."

"Just tell me," I groan.

He drops his head, taking another deep breath. "We had everything all wrong. Mictlantecuhtli isn't a man. It's a woman. Mictlantecuhtli is Mika."

My blood seizes in my veins as all my oxygen exits my lungs. I freeze, unable to function. It's a fucking joke. He clearly didn't look right. Mika couldn't. No, she wouldn't.

"What a dumb joke," I say, my stomach swirling with nausea. "This isn't funny. Why would you say something like that?"

He raps his fingers harder, acting more nervous than I've ever seen him before. I give him a 'are you fucking kidding me' glance. Mateo pulls his cell phone from his jacket pocket and pushes it toward me with a play button on the screen.

"Play the video, Asiel," Mateo whispers, biting on his fingernail. "It will explain everything. You won't question anything after watching it."

My finger hovers over the play button as my anxiety spikes in my chest, aching like crazy. This is bullshit. It's probably a fucking joke. Whatever. The longer I wait, the more agony spreads through my veins. The video begins in a familiar room with my brother. Ander? My stomach stirs as I glance at the time stamp-- his death day.

He isn't alone.

A woman with long black hair is with him.

They're making out on the carpet. Disgust swirls in my stomach as I watch my older brother pleasuring a woman. It's sickening. Her head falls back as he assaults her neck with kisses, and I squint, unable to make why that face looks so familiar.

"What's your name?" Ander says.

An obnoxious moan blares through the speaker of the phone, and she says, "You can call me Mika."

My ears thump wildly with the drumming of my over-functioning heart. That voice. It's a voice I've come to know all too well. There was no denying it was Mika's voice in the video. It was the same voice that would fall asleep with me, the voice that whispers sweet words in my ears, who would tell me that everything is going to be okay, that nothing else mattered in the world but the two of us. The same voice that claimed to love me so much. My mind churns into a frenzy of confusion, anger, agonizing misery.

Mateo clears his throat. "It's a long video." He presses the forward button, causing the video to go at rapid speed. Before I know it, I'm watching Mika slit my brother's wrist and leave a feather-- the signature mark. "Keep swiping."

Tears brim my eyelashes as I listen to Mateo, swiping through the countless videos of Mika as Mictlantecuhtli. I hold myself together until I reach the last video-- our engagement party, when my papa died. She circles my papa with a syringe in her hand. Papa's eyes crinkle with amusement as he rolls the long sleeve up his arm and pat the blue bulging veins. Mika startles my papa by stabbing the syringe into his neck and infusing him with a substance.

"I'm sorry," Mateo whispers, his tongue darting out to dampen his lips. "I know it must be impossibly hard to hear, but all this time-- it was Mika. I think you're her next target."

He switches to a new folder on his phone, revealing a picture of Mika clutching a knife behind her back while I slept in my bed. "Mika isn't working alone. She's been meeting up with Pacho behind your back."

Photos of Mika and Pacho conversing pass by with every flick of Mateo's finger, but everything is becoming a blur.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. "No. There's no way it's Mika. She wouldn't do this to me."

Mateo moves to my side of the bench, squeezing my shoulders. "I thought that at first, but it's true. Everything between you guys has been a lie. Can't you see? She's visiting Pacho behind your back because they're together. They want to get rid of you."

"Pacho?" I say in a rasping whisper.

The binds of betrayal squeeze me tighter and tighter, almost as if a truck was pulling on the rope until I couldn't breathe anymore. My chest gets heavier and heavier as the truth slowly creeps into my barrow bones, robbing me of my ability to use any of my functions. Everything was a lie? Did she even love me at all?

My heart kicks in my chest.

"That's it, Asiel," Mateo says, rubbing my backside. "Channel all that anger and misery into revenge. Hurt her the same way she hurt you. Make her pay for fucking over a Morterero."

"Stop talking," I say through gritted teeth, feeling my throat clogging up.

"Here." Mateo hands over a fresh baggie of heroin, dangling it in my face. "This will take away the pain. You know it will. Everything will be easier. Hurting Mika will be easier if you take this."

My hands ball into my fist, piercing my skin with my nails. Betrayal courses through my bitter veins as I recall the way our relationship started. She probably planned for me to meet her that night and fall into her trap.

Why am I so easy to manipulate?

I grab the zip-lock bag from his grip. "Give me that shit. Get Julian to bring the car around. I need to go home."

What's better than drowning your sorrows in heroin?

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨The moment has come guys.... 🤭🤭 how freaking dare Mateo tell Asiel!?!?!!!

How dare Asiel believe him!!! Even with physical evidence!! He should listen to Mika's side first! Do you guys think he will?

Or do you think it's going to go down in a different way? What's your predictions? Are you nervous???

Thank you for reading Mika and giving me so much love!! I don't deserve it but I'm so grateful and I hope you enjoyed this (heartbreaking) chapter 🥹❤️❤️❤️

Love ya❤️💜🤍❤️🤍