Page 62 of She's My Queen

“The hotel deed is missing. It’s in the house somewhere. You need to find the deed before we can legitimize all these businesses.”

“If it’s here, I’ll find it. But if he sold it to someone…”

“He better have not.” Corrado clears his throat. “You could ask his widow.”

I grit my teeth. “She’s not his widow.”

Corrado strokes his jaw. “Gordon told me he tattooed a red serpent on her.”

“I was feeling territorial. Sue me.”

“That’s the issue, brother. Usually, you are not a territorial creature.”

22

SAY YOU’RE SORRY

SEVERIO

Corrado and I spend the morning on the phone switching between several different secured lines so as not to have our entire conversation in once place. As we comb through the assets and the ledger, it becomes clear Gio’s gotten himself involved with traffickers more than I originally suspected.

If he sold the hotel along with the restaurant Cristina works at to any of the traffickers, the island itself will become a turf war hotspot. As it stands now, they’ll soon find out I took everything, and since they’ll report to the head of their South American organization, who is in an Order of his own, this could escalate into a major conflict. Their Order and ours don’t do business with each other, and we stay out of each other’s way.

Gio knew this. He broke the rules. Created the potential for a dangerous conflict. I intended for every business on the island to become entirely legitimate. We needed a prominent front like this one, especially the hotel. I’d like to bring in a few cruise ships with casinos too.

But running legitimate business requires playing by the rules, which means I must produce deeds. Clean paper trails. The moment we forge something that we claimed waslegitimate, we disrupt the bureaucracy, taint the business, and endanger our wealth. Since our currency is wealth and power, the Order branches remain separated.

I’m adamant about keeping the businesses I chose as fronts for our laundering operations legitimate. Sounds like an oxymoron, but it’s not. Gio knew this. It’s one of the points of disagreement between him and me. Gio’s plans for the Serpentine Order could’ve made them all richer, that’s true. But my way would make us both safe and rich.

A trade-off most powerful people understand.

Cristina’s dad’s detailed bookkeeping showed me that he and Gio muddied nearly every legitimate business they established. It was careless and stupid, and if he wasn’t dead already, I’d have to end him now, if only to stop him from recklessly endangering us all.

It’s almost noon when I hang up with my brother.

I searched the office while on the phone with him, and I wasn’t able to locate the deed to the hotel. Without it, the businesses in the resort are as useless to me as they were to Gio. I’m thinking now that he broke apart the entire resort after selling the hotel. And I have no idea to whom he sold it. There’s no trace of the sale anywhere.

Regardless, we have our best people on it, so if there’s something to be had, they’ll find it.

The antique wall clock chimes at noon, followed by the church bells. I stand from the office chair and stretch before walking to the window and parting the blinds.

I observe the heavy traffic, families moving to and from the beach, a dad with two kids loading groceries in the car he parked in front of my house. A few minutes later, he pulls out, leaving the parking space empty. I wonder how long before another person slides in, thinking they can get away with parking in a spot clearly labeled as private.

I don’t have a car, and even if I did, I have better things to do than argue with random birds over parking spaces.

My leg starts to hurt, and I rub the back of my thigh where the wound is, feeling the dent in the skin. From my pocket, I grab a few over-the-counter pain meds and pop two with a glass of water.

Two people pedaling a tandem bicycle park in front of the house. Cristina is in the front; Drago’s in the back. He’s wearing a pair of plastic sunglasses and a gray sun hat and is holding three paper bags full of groceries. Green kale leaves stick out from one of the bags and block half his face.

I step outside, hands on my hips.

In front of the bicycle, Cristina sits with her dress riding up to the tops of her thighs. She swings her leg off the bicycle, flashing me her panties. They’re baby blue. I grind my teeth at the sight of them. It could’ve been anyone she’s flashing.

That damn dress.

“Aww, let me help you with that.” She grabs a bag from Drago. He’s still sitting on the bike, keeping it in place.

Cristina enters the gate, walks down the path, and climbs the steps, and when I see she’s marching along and not acknowledging me, I reach behind myself and open the door for her.

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