Page 9 of Echoes and Oaths
He’d lived with her, staying in her home whenever work didn’t call him away.
And, of course, she’d known. Everyone in the region knew. Seventy percent of the men there worked for the cartels in some capacity. It was impossible not to.
But enforcer?
Her uncles had only told her after he’d left, or after he’d been killed. No one knew for sure.
They’d said he’d risen in the Montoya faction. That he’d been feared. That he’d had blood on his hands. That he’d been cold, calculated. Deadly.
She blinked hard, refusing to cry.
Murderer.
That word didn’t fit with the man she’d known.The man who’d whispered to her beneath the stars, who’d kissed her with reverence. She didn’t know that man they feared. She’d only known Mateo. And she’d loved him with her whole damn heart.
Then, the Montoya faction had imploded.
It had happened fast. It was violent and chaotic. Hundreds had been killed in a matter of weeks. Montoya himself had been the first to fall, gunned down in his compound, his blood painting the marble floors he’d once ruled from like a king.
The scramble for power had been ruthless. Men Eira had grown up with were buried in mass graves or had disappeared into the jungle. Former allies turned enemies, and friends had become corpses.
Eventually, the Ortega faction had emerged from the carnage with bloodied hands and ruthless efficiency. They’d taken control, and the region had settled into a tense, uneasy truce, well…less peace and more submission under new rule.
When the dust had finally settled, it was no longer about loyalty. It was about survival. But Mateo was gone. Her world had crumbled, and so had her heart. Never again would she allow herself to hurt like that. She would never let another man break her like that again.
Eira had discovered she was pregnant with Mateo’s child three months after he’d vanished.
Gone. Without a trace. No goodbye. No explanation. Just silence. She firmly believed he’d died. If he could’ve come back to her, he would have. She knew it in her heart. They were soulmates, destined to be together. She had wanted forever, a commitment and marriage, but he’d never made that promise. When she was with him, she never doubted he loved her, not once. But the commitment never came, making her wonder if she was enough for him. After he disappeared and she learned what he truly was, she understood why he couldn’t. His life was always at risk.
She looked down at the boy in her arms, her heart aching and full all at once. Teo’s soft lashes fluttered against his cheek as he slept, unaware of the legacy that stirred in the knowledge around him.
He was her only connection to the man she’d loved. The only proof Mateo had ever truly been hers. Her son would never know about the other side of his father. The whispered rumors of bloodshed, the name spoken in fear across cartel lands. No one in her family would breathe a word of it to him.
She would raise Teo on stories of kindness. Of quiet strength. Of how his father could soothe awounded animal with a touch and calm a frightened mare with nothing more than a murmur. She would protect his memory the same way she protected her son, with fierce, unrelenting devotion.
A plume of dust rose in the distance, catching her eye. It twisted up from the dry road to her farm, curling in the hot Venezuelan air like a warning.
Vehicles.
Moving fast.
She stood up, gently shifting Teo against her shoulder, and walked to the front door, her voice firm but calm as she called through the mesh screen.
“Mom, come get Teo.”
Moments later, her mother appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted towel from the kitchen.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her gaze already following Eira’s nod toward the road.
“Vehicles,” Eira said quietly. “And they’re coming fast.”
Her mother’s breath caught. “Do you have your gun?”
Eira gave a single nod. “Always.”
“Do you want me to get your Uncle Juan?”
She shook her head, eyes hard. “No. I’ll handle whatever’s coming.”
