Page 92 of The Umarova Crime Family

My father called me early this morning and said he was going to be swinging by. He’s not the type of man who simply swings by, so I know he has some sort of news. Why he can’t just tell me over the phone is something I don’t understand, considering he does it all the time.

I’m leaning over the railing of my veranda, looking down at the people on the beach. There are multiple umbrellas, lounge chairs, and even kites being flown at this time of day. Since Cancun is one of the hottest destinations in Mexico, it’s always packed around here. Most of the condominiums in my complex are a mixture of vacation homes with a few year-round residents. Some rental agencies own condos here, while others are time-share agreements. Regardless, I hate having to deal with tourists. You’d think when you purchase a condo in a complex with extreme security measures that there wouldn’t be too many tourists moving in and out of the doors. But, unfortunately, not. It appeals to the crème de la crème, or the elite.

I sip on my tequila on the rocks while I change my attention to the horizon in front of me. The sky is a mixture of light and dark purples, with bits of white and orange. The waves crash against the sound, and birds fly in the sky. Some of them even stop on the beach, praying something was left behind for them to munch on.

I already know what my father wants me to do when it comes to Eset Umarova, but it will mean I’m leaving everything behind, including this condo that I love so much. When I don’t have to be with my father, I prefer to stay here. I think the ambiance of the ocean calms me down. Growing up, I was always moving so much with my mother, and then she had me meet my father for the first time at thirteen years old. At that point, I spent the rest of my teenage years being raised by him. Every once in a while, she would come to visit, typically on my birthday or around Christmas.

Even as a child, I saw what I was to him. I had some hope that he was going to look at me like I was his pride and joy. I even thought that for a while, but I was an innocent little boy, wanting only to be accepted and loved by his father. By the time I turned seventeen, I had realized what I really was to him—an heir—after he gave me a speech about how we were destined for greatness.

I didn’t know it back then, but I’m sure he was already forming his plan to take over Alejandro’s throne. My father had a little bit of money left for him by his father when he passed, but he had to turn whatever his inheritance was into more, so that’s what he’s done for so many years. He knew having money would catapult him into being taken seriously, and while it has, it also meant he’s had to make very monstrous decisions.

I want to hope my father is a good man underneath the surface. I believe every child hopes their parent is a good person, but I know mine isn’t. When he has the option to make a good decision versus a bad one, he’s always going to choose the worse of the two. It’s in his blood, quite literally.

I hear stories about my grandfather all the time, and not one of them is good. I doubt there is one person in this world who has ever had a positive experience to tell after meeting my grandfather. Everything I know has been horrible, vile shit. Truthfully, I don’t know how he wasn’t killed before the day he was. There are even rumors about his death and the circumstances.

I believe the Romanian Clans and the Skulls Renegade MC had to work together quite a bit to get him where they wanted him. There are rumors that a woman he raped killed him, but I don’t have confirmation. I hope someone he wronged was the one to take him from this world. It might sound cold since he was my grandfather, but I think everyone gets what’s coming to them.

My doorbell rings out of nowhere, so I turn around and walk back into my condo. I walk past the dining room area and down the hall until I’m at my door. I take a peek through the peephole and see it’s my father, so I unlock the door and let him inside. “Hey.”

“Hello, son,” my father greets me as he loosens the tie around his neck. He even unbuttons a couple of buttons near the top as he walks inside. He’s frustrated, and right about now, I’m wondering why. Something must have happened.

“What’s going on?”

My father inhales deeply through his nostrils and licks his lips aggravatingly before he speaks. “You know one of my facilities was broken into not too long ago, yes?”

I nod, remembering how badly he flipped out when he was told about the break-in. “Yeah, what about it? Have you discovered who was behind it?”

He looks right up at me. “That’s where things get a bit tricky. I think the Umarovas could’ve been behind it.”

What in the world? “Why would you say that?”

“Because of this.” My father taps away on his phone and then hands it to me. I’m looking at a photograph of Lom Umarova with his girlfriend, or possibly wife, Emily. In the photograph, there’s also what appears to be a teenage girl. “That girl was at the facility before it was broken into. Now she just so happens to be with them? It’s not a coincidence, son. I know that for certain.”

I don’t believe in coincidences either, but if that girl is somehow important to the Umarova family, then I don’t blame them for taking her back. My father is despicable for dealing in child trafficking anyway.

“Am I right to assume this will put a damper on the plans we have with the Umarova family?” My father’s always been so adamant that he wants me to marry Eset purely because of her brother’s connections. Trying to figure out on my own if this means my father will want to nix the whole arranged marriage offer is confusing. I could see him going both ways, honestly.

“I won’t lie to you. I’m having a hard time trying to decide. There were fourteen girls from the block who were ten years of age.”

“It sounds premeditated like there was a reason for what they were doing. Do you know any more information?” He has to know something.

“I have some information, yes, but I need one of those. It has been a long day,” my father motions to the drink I have in my hand, and I nod, heading over to my bar area. I place my drink down on the bar while I fetch a glass for him, put in three cubes of ice, and then slowly pour some blanco tequila over the ice. I hand him his glass, and he takes it with a sigh of relief. “Ah, I needed this so badly.”

I wait for my father to at least take a couple sips of his drink before I pry again. “What do you know?”

“I know Lom Umarova is with a woman named Emily, who is Amelia’s cousin.” My father happens to be dating Amelia’s mother and has been for many, many years. I see her as nothing more than a desperate leech, searching for importance and using any situation she can to manipulate people. She’s a snake, but my father can’t seem to understand he needs to cut the head off before it bites him.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” I can hear it in his fucking voice. He knows something, and he’s refraining from saying anything. “I can’t give you my opinion if you aren’t honest with me.”

“Lu told me that when Emily was a teenager, she had a child. Emily came to her for help, to hide the pregnancy and adopt the child out to a family privately. Emily didn’t want to deal with the consequences of being a teen mother in that sort of environment. She’d grown up in a small, conservative town, and from what Lu tells me, Emily knew she wouldn’t be able to get her and her daughter out of town if she had to care for her.” My father stops abruptly, and I raise both of my brows.

“Don’t tell me she gave her own blood to your fucking trafficking ring,” I hiss. There are times when I find it difficult to bite my tongue, and right now is one of those times.

“She did, only I didn’t know it until a few months ago. She lied to me and told me the child was brought to the facility under the same false pretenses all the other children were. I had no idea, and now look at the mess it’s created.”

Lu would go around to desperate, scared mothers and tell them she’d find a good home for their baby. She’d work on getting them to trust her enough to give her their child, and instead of finding a good home, she’d take them to my father’s facility, where the children were subjected to a long list of horrors.

“What are you going to do now? Surely, Emily didn’t know what her daughter was going to be part of, which is why the Umarova family went after her.”

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