Valentina

"Do you like it here?" Sofia asked me, hopping a step ahead of me at the turn in the garden before looking over her shoulder.

Talking to Sofia about her reservations or her liking for Mexico was foolish from my end but it had her talking. And a talking Sofia was a happier, less brooding one.

Being a victim of kidnapping, it wasn't a normal scenario where she came to Mexico to enjoy the sun and the beaches. She was dragged out by us forcefully. There was no question about her being comfortable in this place. Yet, the chirpy girl that she was, she took all the sufferings in stride. She even questioned me back. "Tell me Val, do you like it here?"

"What's not there to like? It's where I was born. I love staying here." I answered, as we sat on the garden bench overlooking the greenery.

Cooped up in her room, I saw how much she craved for the outside world, even if it were just the gardens. She wasn't the prisoner here, she was the victim. A girl, who paid for the wrongdoings of her brother.

As much as I wanted to drive her back to Spain, I knew it would only end up with me in her situation, the second I crossed the borders. Santos was driven crazy with our little stunt. His men were spread across the entire country for any information on Sofia. We were expecting him to react.

Prepared for everything, Antonio seemed confident whenever Salazars was the topic of discussion. Yet, there was no consensus on what would happen to Sofia if Santos didn't agree with out plans. Sofia was a bargain chip for now. But what would happen to her if the deal was made?

Will he accept her sister or toss her out?

How sad must be our lives where I was scared for my ruse being uncovered and hers, where her own flesh and blood may reject her. Men in our world too everything from us. We were left with nothing more than broken skin and hearts. Atleast I was training to suffer, having learned tactics in case of a capture. But Sofia..

Patting her hand over my knee, she pulled me back from the darkened hold of my own thoughts. 

"Still, don't you want to leave all this and go somewhere?" She looked up, watching the crimson hued sky with a tinge of purple like a dead body, slowing loosing blood while accepting and embracing death as its companion. " Somewhere peaceful and quite." She finished her words with a sign.

I adored her innocence. Sofia's naïve nature was a pleasant view for the sore eyes who had seen more violence than any. Her sweet innocent filled voice was the balm that could heal even the most broken of the souls. In a way, she was a divine blessing of the heavenly entities and yet, she suffered.  

Sister of a man who practically ran the Spanish drug cartel, she was gullible in the ways of business to have hoped for peace and quiet. A part of me craved for her childlike assumptions. How great would have been her childhood for her to retain her innocence?

Mine, I remembered, was lost in training. You don't stay innocent anymore when trained to kill. Compassion and kindness was replaced with cruelty and stone cold determination and whatever feelings could be festered were quashed under a rock, placed above the heart. You shouldn't feel anything for the enemy clan. Yet I did.

I felt bad for Sophia. She was a flower who was caught up in the tornado of empire clash among two men. Two alphas. As I watched her wither away, all I could do was hold onto her in my embrace, protecting her from being torn apart by this storm which came to claim us all.

I patted Sofia's knees as she coiled then onto her chest and leaning back on the bench.

"One day, hopefully." I said. She smiled at the wind and the greyer sky, a silent prayer from her.

Hope was a dangerous thing for me but for her, I faked it. After all, I wasn't of much help. I assumed if I could convince her to remain the way she was, it might give her some respite from this mess.

But then again, hope was a dangerous thing.

"What the hell are you doing?" was the voice that led me to believe so. Our heads snapped back.

Antonio walked with long strides through the mowed grass, tossing off dirt behind in his wake. I watched the aftermath of his trail as he stood towering over me. "Who asked you to bring her out?" his eyes danced between us but his words were aimed at me.

I sprang up, squaring his face which was crimson as the sky and warm as a pool, reflecting heat. "I got her for some fresh air. She needed it and I wanted to talk to her. There is nothing wrong in that."

Antonio's eyes rolled up into his head, his palms rubbed his face and heels dug into his eyes. "Why are you doing this? Is this some sort of revenge for last time?" his asked, words falling from the gaps of his clenched teeth. I could hear it grinding to power as he moved closer.

His words rekindled the smoldering pieces of hurt inside me. He gave me the fuel to combust. "Are you kidding me? Not everything is about you, okay? Not everyone is there to play you."

Darkened, anger spewed through his eyes as he breathed over my face. Puffs of air blew my strands that clung onto the rising temperature beneath my skin. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared in sync with his heaving chest. Soft yet angry notes hit my ears.

"Get her inside." he commanded.

I tossed my hands to my sides, balling my fists. Pale suited their appearance. "No. Not today." I hissed.

"Then I will." His head snapped towards Sofia who scrambled back. Her eyes darted between me and him before her feet tripped on a vine, landing her into a bush. Tears welled up and drained over her once happy face.

"Enough boy," that command, that stern blood curdling voice was loud and clear. It stilled the earth from its rotation. Antonio was frozen in his steps as Maria walked over to us. "Do not treat her like a prisoner. She is our guest." Maria's eyes bore a hole onto Antonio's face. He looked away.

Her eyes shifted onto me. "You too. What were you thinking?"

I didn't know what Maria referred to but the wise thing to do was to stay silent. If her anger was good enough to calm Antonio, it should be valid for me too. Maria took her hand, pulling her off the bush. Her tiny arms bled through the tiny cuts. Pace skin reddened to secure her wounds to dry.

Maria ran a careful evaluation over Sofia's face. The motherly concern danced across as she whispered. "Tell me if you want anything. Anything. And you are free to roam anywhere in this place. Nobody will harm you. Nobody will escort you." Her eyes darted to me.

Ahh. Maria thought I too was caging Sofia.

"I like her company." Sofia's soft voice did its magic, convincing her protector that I was on their side.

Maria held the trembling girl closer to her, walking her back. Sofia's former hop returned to her feet as she drifted away from the mess we made.

"You think defying me would help?" Antonio's voice raged up as soon as the girls were out of my sight. His hands messed his neatly placed hair into a gelled rumple.

"I didn't defy you. I simply got her out for her happiness. Maria was right, she isn't a prisoner here."

"I would decide that." He moved a step closer, holding out his hand in a form to clutch my jaw. Something dark stirred in his eyes as he stopped, sliding it away. "Don't make me hurt you."

"I don't think you would escape after hurting me, Antonio."

His lips curled up, emitting a soft smile which might even be a smirk. I refrained from looking. My heart leapt in its place at our proximity and I wasn't ready to torture it more. I was scared of Antonio being able to hear my beats.

I was fighting attraction with the obligation. The king stood towering over his queen, oblivious to the fact that one day she would be his killer.

"Valentina," he whispered my name with air escaping from his mouth. I breathed in his minty, cigar smelling breath as waves of desire crashed inside me. "You haven't seen hurt as I have. When I say don't push me, you better listen."

We stood watching each other as his words diffused into the air. Why was it that I felt different for him when he was around? Why couldn't I hate him the away when he was away? Why was our proximity bothering me?

Why was Antonio affecting me, my senses? My heart.

Brushing past, he let out a deep sigh and walked away. I stood in the aftermath of his words when my phone rang, breaking my state of trance. Nico.

"Have you received the package?" he breathed into the phone. I walked back into the mansion, scanning the place for any package.

"What's in it?" I darted to my room. Pushing open the doors, I saw a pale mint colored package resting on my bedside. "I have it. What is it?"

"Call me after you have seen it."

After tearing through the cover, I fished out the contents. Files with photos fell on my lap as I smeared them all over my bed. There were baby photos of me, dad and mom's.

There were photos of Rodrigo, my uncle.

I tossed them aside to check the file. The bold headline, 'Post Mortem Report' report caught my attention. I lowered my gaze to the name.

Hanna Ramirez.

In my hand lay mom's post mortem report. Flashes of the day of her death ran as a loop in my head. She was travelling back from her folk's place when the Moralez decided to gun her down near to our home.

I distinctly remember the shots, there were two. Crows cawed off the nearby trees. I cheered the sound, expecting it to be crackers of some kind. Barely seven, I remembered it all. Dad got her bleeding body to the entrance. Her blood drenched the earth as he hugged onto her lifeless body. I called out to her, shaking her body, asking her to wake up.

Please don't sleep now. I said to her stiff body. The image still jolted me up at night. As a rogue tear dripped onto my dress, I reeled off the memories into reality.

My eyeballs felt strained as they reran over the words- cause of death. Asphyxia. 

Mom was chocked and killed. My thoughts ran wild like stallions let loose. I remember seeing blood, I remember dad's cried. She was shot and killed. Then who chocked her?

I was going crazy, tossing photos of me. Uncle holding me in his hands, mom's photos with dad. Me and Nicolas as kids. Look how happy they all were. Smiles pasted on a paper, a lost memory in time. I poured over all pages, trying to make sense of her report. Asphyxia.

Her killers were never found but dad knew the right people. He was sure of the information. Moralez. The Moralez broke our home. They raided on our happiness and stabbed each dream to death. Here, in their mansion, I scanned sheets which were evidence of their wrong doing.

My phone's muffled ringtone alerted me. My ears stood up, tossing and turning the bed for it to appear. Under the pillow, I felt its vibration. Sliding the screen, I answered.

"I don't understand, Nicolas," I looked over the memories and reports. Happy smiles and words of betrayal, all in front of me. "She was shot but the report-"

"She was killed when someone chocked her first, her shooting was only secondary." His breath was labored, he knew something more.

"Who did that?" Anger spread inside as I walked around the room. Hearing my own heartbeats ringing in my ears, I tried to breath slowly. It wasn't helping the boiling sensation I felt inside. Pain radiated from my chest when I breathed out. "Answer me, Nicolas."

"What's the last thing you remember about your mother?" he asked. Rage spewed out.

"Quit the puzzles and answer. TELL ME." I howled, seeing dark patches in my vision. Surely, I was going blind with rage. Quite literally.

Nico snickered, clearing his voice. A part of me wanted to bash my coiled fist into the phone and contact him on the other end. His face. How dare he laugh at my pain. Was this fun for him?

"Tell me Val, just.. Tell me."

I walked around, closing my eyes, dredging those suppressed memories. Last thing. Suddenly, my eyes popped open. Like a movie screen playing a scene, my mind protected the day. "It was a fight. Mom and dad were fighting about something. She left the house."

Nico remained silent. His rhythmic breath hit the speaker. Unable to think and relive the day, I tossed the photo on the bed, screaming into the pillow. His distance voice made me put the phone back over my warm ear.

Tell me please. I was crying on the inside. Memories make us travel back was true in my case.

I stood next to my seven year old self as she wailed over her mother's dead body. She was lost without her. I was still lost. Young Val didn't know what happened to her mother. She was smart to know of death but foolish to accept that her own mother died in front of her. 

Her older version me was foolish too for not believing Nico's words as he destroyed my already dilapidated world. 

"Your mother was killed by your father. It wasn't the Moralez, it was him. Ramon Ramirez."

~

And there it is.. The truth is out..

Valentina's sad truth about her father.

Read and find out the reason for Ramon Ramirez to kill his own wife in the next chapter. For now, a shoutout to @sanavibhore who guessed the premise correctly. It was indeed the mother's truth..

Do comment on the chapter, or in general, your thoughts on Val and Anto. The are complicated and their ways of falling for each other is different from the usual cheesy ways.

Let me know, your thoughts on them.

Happy reading

Love

S