Page 18 of Trapped

“You can stay with us,” Adrian offers. I shake my head and stand to my full height. I roll my shoulders back and channelLa Viuda,my alter ego, who isn’t afraid of shit. The same one who came to me that day years ago when I had no other option but to be strong and place my baby in another woman’s arms.

“No. I am Thalia Consuelo, and I can take care of myself.”

I look back down at the picture, and my heart breaks at the evidence that these threats are now direct attacks. I will do whatever I need to do to make sure my daughter is safe.

My heart breaks at the smile on her face. Would she ever accept me as her mother? Would she understand that everything I had done was to protect her? My whole life is dedicated to that sole mission. On the outside looking in, I am loyal to the Consuelo family, but I am as ruthless as my father when I need to be. If her safety is compromised, I’ll turn my back on them if I have to.

“Lucia, only a few toys,” I say as I pack a black suitcase. Trying to turn a six-year-old into a minimalist is not going well for me. When Lucia wants to be a diva, she puts the entire cast of Toddlers and Tiaras to shame. Lucia and Luca’s room consists of bunk beds and a split design. Trolls vomit across one side, and planets on the other side. This is their home. I am risking their safety in their own home.

“I want to go with Ariella!” Lucia protests. My brows arch at her demand. She turns her chin up toward me and crosses her arms. Ariella is her idol now. You paint a little girl’s nails one time, and she’ll pledge her entire allegiance to you.

“Ariella will be at Abuelo’s house.” I ignore her whines and finish packing her and Luca’s bags. Olivia is talking with thekitchen staff downstairs about her upcomingvacation. The holidays are approaching, and the kids will have a month off from school. We have time to borrow to make sure everything is safe before they return. My phone rings, and I see a message from Ricky.

Ricky: Got you a little gift.

Adrian had already identified the man in the picture. The Bandolero sneering at me from the picture went by the name Bullet. His real name, Gustavo Contreras, is my old friend Hewey’s older brother. Ricky attaches a picture of the guy tied up in the back of the van.

“Is it Prince Charming?” I look up to see Lucia staring at me with a snarky expression.

“There’s no Prince Charming, Lucia. Now finish packing. ¡Ándale!”

I gather the suitcases and set them outside the door, where Nero is waiting to follow us downstairs. When we reach the front lobby, Olivia is waiting, and Lucia rushes up and springs into her arms. I crouch down to hug Luca and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll miss you, mijo.” I know the next few days will be the most challenging for him. Kids with autism have a hard time adjusting to new surroundings, but as long as Lucia is with him, he will be okay. I help him into the back of the car and buckle him in.

Lucia refuses to look at me when I buckle her in. She blames me for having to leave behind her collection of Squishmallows. When I go to kiss her, she turns her head. I drop my hands and move back. I shut the door and wave from outside the window.

“Don’t mind her,” Olivia says from beside me. “She’s convinced you're leaving us to be with the guy from Halloween night.” Lucia had seen Prince Uncharming’s face that night. She is obsessed with him, asking questions about when he is coming back, where he lives, and what his favorite color is.

I tried to blame her obsessive questions as the reasoning for my intrusive thoughts about the masked man. I replay the night over, finding missing pieces I had initially forgotten. Like asking him to touch me and him denying me. I’ve touched myself so many times since then, envisioning the ending to the night that I wanted.

How does the devil come to you?

It was a question my father asked me once. He said that, to be a good leader, we had to think like our enemies. If we knew our own weaknesses, then no one could use them against us.

There is no doubt about it. The devil comes to me in red bottom shoes and black lipstick. While black is her preferred color, today, she is wearing a long pink bridesmaid dress. I haven’t seen the little devil in two weeks, putting distance between us while I tie up some loose ends in Arizona.

Once I received the text, I came back quicker than I had anticipated.

Nero: Jefe, we have a problem here.

Silas: What kind of problem?

Nero: I’m pretty sure Thalia just signed her death sentence.

Thalia is losing control. In the countless stories that circulate about her, she is known to be calculated when it comes to her enemies. Sending the severed head of Gustavo Contreras to his mother was more than enough to initiate an ugly war with Los Bandoleros. A war that was sure to end in a sea of blood. She had assassinated their president, and it was every man for himself, trying to claim the throne. They won’t stop until she is dead.

I don’t trust her family to protect her. Her life is now a trophy. Which is why I am seated in the back of the wedding in my red Versace suit and Joker mask while said target is standing in a line with other women as the bride has her back to them. I watch from a distant table in the back. My eyes narrow on her as she jumps up high and her hand reaches for the bouquet. I take out my phone and send her a text.

Silas: Married women shouldn’t be catching bouquets.

It takes a while before she sees the message. She has to dance with the fucker who caught the garter. Lucky for him, it’s her uncle’s fiancé. As soon as she returns to her seat, she pulls out her purse. Warmth spreads through my body at the fear plastered on her face. Her brows bunch, and she looks around as if she knows who she’s looking for.

The wedding is packed with people, due to the bride marrying into an elite Houston family. Beatriz is Thalia’s nanny’s oldest daughter. The match is no doubt an arrangement made, a way ofThalia paying her debt to Doña Clara for the years she watched over her.

The reception is the perfect place for retaliation. Thalia sits with her brother, cousin, and two friends. Nero stands behind them, dressed in a suit and dark shades. Since her bedroom cameras had been taken down, I have limited access to her through the hotel security footage. It isn’t enough.

I have been stalking.No.I have beenstudyingmy wife for the last few weeks. She’s masturbated more times than a teenage boy who just discovered his mom’s Victoria Secret catalog. Whenever she was alone in the penthouse, she would speak her perverse thoughts out loud.

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