Page 79 of To Have and To Hold

With her lips pressed together, she shook her head. “No, he was killed, but not in service to the cartel.”

I reached out to her raised, sheet-covered knees. “Killed? The Russians? The other cartel?”

“Herrera? No, I believe he was killed byel Patr?nhimself.”

What?

My thoughts went to Mia’s husband. “Why would Aléjandro kill your husband?”

Her voice was monotone, almost robotic. “Not Aléjandro. Jorge, his father. My husband betrayed the Roríguez cartel.”

I couldn’t comprehend.

She turned to me. “You say you want more time with Em. Are you praying for him?”

I nodded.

“I used to pray.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I thought God was punishing me—for what, I didn’t know.” She took a ragged breath. “I prayed every day forno más tiempo—no more time—with Gerardo.” Her timbre changed, becoming stronger. “Every morning, he’d swim laps in our pool. I’d slip into the shower, get down on my knees, and pray that he’d be stricken down. A heart attack or drowning—I didn’t care. I even considered poisoning him.” Her lips curled upward. “Did you know you can make poison out of crushed cherry pits?”

I shook my head.

She went on. “I didn’t know that he was betraying the Roríguez cartel. When Valentina came to tell me that he was gone, I felt the greatest sense of relief. Not Sofia. She cried.” Liliana shook her head. “I never shed a tear.”

I rubbed her knee with my hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“El Patr?nhimself questioned me. I truly didn’t know what Gerardo was doing. He let me live.” She took a breath. “I enjoy working with the tenants because while I never worked at a place like Wanderland, my parents sold me into hell—a slave to Gerardo’s sick, abusive…” She shook her head and took a breath. “My parents didn’t think twice, all becauseel Patr?ntold them to do it.” She feigned a smile. “The funny thing is that I’ve never told any of the tenants that story. And yet, it is as if they know we share an understanding.”

“You’re amazing with them. I told Mia that the first day I worked.”

She lifted her brow. “You told her that?”

“I did. I meant it.” I inhaled. “I’m sorry for…”

Liliana shook her head. “Because of Mia, I wasn’t made to remarry right away. Allowing me to live alone was unheard of. My parents think I should be back with them or remarried.” She turned her attention to the door. “I’m praying too, Izzy. Aléjandro and Mia are good for the cartel. If we loseel Patr?n, I don’t know what will happen to us.” She shrugged. “We could go to Herrera. And then what?”

We reached for each other’s hand.

I closed my eyes. The words weren’t audible, yet they came from my heart. “Please watch over Emiliano, Aléjandro, and everyone who was with them.” I remembered what Horace said about casualties. “Please don’t let anyone suffer. Bring Emiliano back to me so I can spend the rest of my life showing him how wrong I was before. And please, let Liliana find happiness.”

I opened my eyes at the knock and opening of Liliana’s door. I sprang to my feet at the sight of Horace. “Have you heard?”

“Sí.”

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Emiliano

Earlier: 7:56 pm

The sound of voices was nonexistent, intensifying the rumble of the engine and hum of tires on the streets. Tension permeated from every occupant in the panel van. No doubt, everyone was deep in thought as we traveled toward The Legend. We’d planned our operation down to the second, aiming to get in and out in under seven minutes. That would be a minute faster than the eight Rei gave us. I gritted my teeth as I maneuvered the vehicle through San Diego traffic. Since I’d lived here all my life, Nick or I would be the most experienced drivers. This wasn’t the time to be pulled over for some stupid move.

Nick was in the back, his mind set on protectingel Patr?n. Piero was at my side, riding shotgun. The other seven occupants were in the back, weapons, vests, and helmets in place. While we would all be armed with multiple guns, knives were our weapon of choice—less noise.

Back in Midtown, Sebastián was able to communicate with us through earpieces, but his only visual was through deviated security. In a matter of four minutes, the security guard at the front desk would see earlier recorded video, not what was happening in real time. As soon as we were out of the building, Sebastián would delete any footage of us, replacing it with what the security guard viewed—if he was paying attention at all. The San Diego Chargers were playing their final preseason game against the Saints. Kickoff was at eight p.m. Surely that was more exciting than a luxury building’s hallways and doors.

Neither of the security guards in the front of the building should be an issue. If things went as planned, they’d both live to see another day.

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