Page 35 of Valentine's with the Cartel

I was sitting at my desk in the executive suite that had once been my father's, my eyes drifting over the various papers and reports strewn across its surface. But my mind was elsewhere, lost in the past as I reminisced about everything that had brought me to this moment. Every now and then, these thoughts resurfaced.

Seven years ago, when Anan went into labor alone at our mansion while I was out dealing with a missing fentanyl shipment... That experience changed everything for me. Watching him struggle to bring our sons into this world without any support from me—it broke something inside of me, even though I'd managed to arrive in time. I realized just how selfish and misguided I had been, always putting my own needs above his well-being.

Well, not anymore.

I couldn't allow that to happen again, ever. From that night forward, I vowed to become a better man—not just for Anan but for our boys too. And somehow, I managed to pull it off.

The cartel was no more. In its place now stood a vast network of legitimate businesses that provided honest work and security for so many who were once forced to rely on crime as their only means of survival.

From construction companies building affordable housing developments in underserved communities, to renewable energy startups ushering in a cleaner future, we were doing good for the city.

Of course, it wasn't easy at first. There was much resistance from those within my own ranks who had grown comfortable with our old ways. But in the end, they saw reason—especially after witnessing how I punished any transgressions against our new code of ethics with an iron fist. Couldn't have been any different.

By then, we had built a reputation for integrity and innovation that extended far beyond our former territory. Local politicians now lined up to court our support, knowing that by working with us, they could achieve real progress for their agenda. The police were no longer my sworn enemies—they had become my partners, helping us root out any lingering vestiges of corruption.

Who would have thought, back then, that all this would be happening now? I certainly would have laughed in the face of whoever had tried to tell me.

Anan was proud of all I accomplished, and rightly so. He had stood by my side through every step, his unwavering support and belief in me never faltering, even when I had doubted myself the most. My boys looked up to him as much as they did to me—they were growing up with the very best role model a man could ever hope for.

I picked up the framed photograph of us all together from my desk, my arm slung casually around Anan's shoulders as we beamed at the camera, our sons giggling happily in our laps. Welooked like a family from a storybook—and that was exactly what I fought so hard to build for them.

There was no one I wanted to be more like than their father—someone they could admire and respect not just for my strength, but also for my capacity for love and compassion.

And with Anan by my side, guiding me every day, I knew I would get there eventually. After all, we had all the time in the world to perfect our happy little family dynamic.

I smiled softly as I set the photo back down, turning my chair toward the window that offered a sweeping view of the glittering skyline beyond. It really was breathtaking.

The sun was setting, painting the horizon in glorious hues of orange and pink. It was one of my favorite times of day. My eyes were entranced by the change.

At the end of each day, there was nothing more important than those three beautiful souls waiting for me to share my heart with them. They were why everything I did mattered, and I'd never forget that.

I stood, gathering up the files on my desk before making my way toward the door. Tomorrow would be another busy day full of opportunities. But for now, it was time to go home and be present for the ones who loved me most.

It was time to be Dad. And that title had never felt so good as it did right then.

Anan's Epilogue

Around 21 years later…

It was a cold, overcast day as we gathered around Aunt Mara's freshly dug grave, our breaths misting before us in visible puffs. Rafael stood solid and stoic at my side, one strong arm wrapped around my waist even as he kept the boys anchored close with his other hand.

The twins—now full-grown men themselves—were a steadfast presence on either end of our little family unit. They were so much taller now, their shoulders broad and capable as they gazed down at the casket being lowered into the earth.

My heart clenched as I watched the floral tributes being piled atop it in careful layers, the riot of colors and scents a stark contrast against the bleak grey of the headstones surrounding us.

For the most part, I was confused about my own feelings and thoughts. Part of me was thinking she didn't deserve all the recognition she was getting. The other part thought the first one was being cruel.

It seemed so surreal that we were actually here, burying a woman who had once been such a huge part of my life. Even though I didn't like her, I couldn't deny that fact. She had been.

Images of Mara flooded my mind unbidden as I stared at the scene unfolding before me—Aunt Mara smiling down at me from her rocking chair as she read me bedtime stories, her wrinkled hand patting my back as she rocked me to sleep. Mara wiping away my tears with a tender finger after I scraped my knee on the pavement, her soothing voice murmuring that everything would be okay.

But those memories were overshadowed by the not-so-kind ones—Mara's sharp reprimands when I didn't eat all my vegetables at dinner, and her withering disapproval as she scrutinized my choice of clothing for the day. And then there was the manipulation...

I shuddered against Rafael's side, his grip on me tightening even though he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. He knew about Mara's cruelty—the scars it left on my psyche still visible, even after all these years.

But somehow, standing here at her final resting place, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. Everything was over. All the things she made me suffer, it was all over. It had been since marrying Rafael.

As I watched them fill in the hole around the coffin with loose dirt, I remembered, once again, that she could no longer hurt me.

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