Page 60 of Spice and Revenge

It’s hard to believe it, but the picture of his dead body staring right at me from the screen of my phone is proof. I take in his blue T-shirt which has a large, grey patch staining his back where he was shot. There is another hole at the side of his head, and I can see that because there are several pictures of him on my phone screen, with different angles and shots taken.

All the pictures were sent to me by Uncle Pedro.

He didn’t leave any other message. But he didn’t have to because I get the message loud and clear.

This is both a punishment and a warning for trying to disobey his orders.

My hands shake as my phone clatters to the floor. A choked sob escapes my lips, and I place one hand over my mouth to contain my cries.

My best friend for the longest time has been killed. All because I couldn’t kill Leo, the man I recently just met. And while I was with Leo last night, Maximo was probably taking his last breath.

The tears flowing down my eyes are uncontrollable. I don’t try to control them anyway. I’d just retired to my room to freshen upafter making breakfast when I saw the message notification pop up on my phone.

I am a total mess, filled with different emotions swirling through my head. Pain, regret, but mostly anger.

I’m angry at myself, and I’m angry at Uncle Pedro.

I’ve always known that my uncle was a ruthless man, but I never thought he would go this far. He knows how much Maximo means to me, and that is exactly why he had Maximo killed. To get to me.

“It’s all my fault,” I say as a fresh wave of tears pours down my eyes.

Snap out of it, a harsh voice whispers in my head.

Pedro killed Maximo because that’s who he is; a manipulative bastard who derives joy in controlling everyone around him, a heartless man who only cares about himself, a desperate man who would do anything to get what he wants.

My anger rises again, and this time around, the rage is almost blinding.

When I saw the pictures, I’d sent Uncle Pedro frantic texts, begging and hoping that what I was seeing wasn’t true. He replied to none of them. I’d called him, angry and devastated, to demand an explanation. He answered none of my calls.

There is only one way to meet him, and that is by taking the nearest flight to New York.

It is a hasty, risky and rash decision, but it’s the least I can do for Maximo.

With that resolve, I quickly pack a few personal belongings that I would need into a small travel bag. Grabbing my phone, I book the nearest flight to New York, which is in about two hours. I grab my burner phone and a stack of emergency cash buried at the bottom of my suitcase. I cannot risk being caught by withdrawing from an ATM.

I go over my things to make sure I have everything I need at the moment, making a mental note of the things I will get when I arrive in New York. Like weapons.

With everything set, there’s only one issue left. I slip out of my room, hoping that Leo hasn’t left for work yet. I exhale a breath of relief when I see him walking out of the main entrance with Fabio. Without thinking, I rush after him.

“Hello, sir,” I call out, equally stepping outside the house.

They both halt in their steps and turn to watch me approach.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation,” I address the both of them before turning to look at Leo.

“I was hoping to talk to you about my leave,” I say, forcing my voice to sound casual and soft. “I have a family event that I must attend, and I was hoping to take a few days off.”

Leo has an unreadable expression on his face as he takes me in. I will myself to remain calm and impassive under his cool stare.

“Three days,” is all he says, before waving me off and turning to Fabio.

“Thank you,” I mutter before turning and practically running into the house.

On a normal day, it would sting that he just dismissed me like a regular chef after our moment last night. But I have no time to think about that now.

And today is not a normal day.

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