Page 28 of Ruthless Temptation
It would make accepting what’s to come easier.
The worst part is that, despite everything, those moments are still my favorite part of each day.
I have less than a week left on campus—six days, to be specific—when I get summoned to the attic. My fingers and toes are numb by the time I settle into the seat across from the computer. I bounce my leg underneath the desk, watching the spinning circle on the screen.
Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long before my father connects to the call.
He isn’t in his study, like he usually is. From the light hitting his face and the sliding glass doors behind him, he’s sitting on the patio upstairs. He looks distraught, and that worries me. Myheart hammers against my ribcage as I take in his messy hair, the lines by his eyes and the worrisome set of his lips.
“What’s wrong, papa?” I say urgently, my eyes already starting to burn. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news—not now. My mind starts to race with what it could be.
Is it my mother? Is it my sister? Is it him?
Oh gosh. I clutch my stomach.
My father heaves a sigh, slumping forward in his chair. He looks away from the camera, into the void beyond it. Though I can’t see it, I can picture the sweeping vistas that surround our ancestral home in Colombia. You can look over into Nico’s backyard from that patio, too.
Maybe that’s a silver lining. I’ll be trapped in the most beautiful place on earth.
“Are you doing okay,morrita?” my father asks.
I nod quickly, tired of the formalities. I wish he would just get on with it already. “Yes, I’m fine, papa.” Then I add, even though it is most certainly a lie, “I will be ready to leave school next week.”
My father doesn’t bristle at my words, and he doesn’t look as pleased as I expected him to be. “That’s what I’m calling about, actually.” My breath catches. “What will be happening when you fly back next week.”
A fresh thorn of panic lances my throat. I squeeze my fingers together underneath the desk, silently hoping this isn’t one of Nico’s special requests. It’s already crushing to give up everything I hold dear to be with him.
The thought makes me nauseous, and I bury my face in my hands.
“I guess I should just cut to the chase,” my father says, and I grit my teeth, bracing myself for whatever horrible ultimatum is about to fall from his mouth.
“Nico is dead.”
That’s not what I expected him to say. I blink slowly, confusion twisting my brows. Searching his face, I try to look for any hint that he could be joking, but my father was never the type to make cheap jokes like that. Especially on topics this serious.
“Excuse me, papa?” I ask, surprised at my voice. “I don’t think I understand.”
Even though I’m asking for clarification, the reality of what he has said is starting to settle in and my insides won’t stop thrumming.
My father lowers his eyes, kneading his forehead with two fingers.
“He’s dead. The men found his body last night.” My father grimaces, as if he saw it himself. “He was hanging from a tree, naked. Whoever it was cut out his tongue, and his fucking cock.”
I shudder, even as a tiny spark of hope flutters to life in my chest. It’s a gruesome, horrible way to go. But one befitting a man like Nico. My father rarely speaks so vulgarly in front of me, so I know this has shaken him up.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
What I really want to know is how his death will affect us, affect me. But I can’t come out and say it, since my father seems more distraught about this than I would expect him to be.
“Well, you can’t marry a dead man, can you?” he says humorlessly. “He had no children, and he’s the only child his father had.” My father heaves a sigh. “They’ve chosen me as interim leader of the outfit,morrita.”
“You?” I ask in disbelief. My father is a loyal, hardworking man and I doubt there is anyone more qualified than him. Yet, he doesn’t seem happy with his newfound fortune.
Overnight, he has become the most powerful man in Colombia.
He nods. “Yes. I was unwilling, but the men voted.”
I wrap my arms around myself, leaning back in the chair. My father regards me with an expressionless stare. There’s more he wants to say, I can tell.
