Page 41 of Violent Attraction

“Keeping this from Ronaldo will be easy. Your brother on the other hand, that will be hard.”

I nod. “I know but I think we can do it.”

He stays silent for a little bit, just moving his hand up and down my hips, finally he breaks the quietness of the room.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You want to hide this?”

No, I want to scream it off the roof of this estate that this man is officially mine, but this is the best option for the both of us right now.

My father will hate it no matter when we tell him.

And given that his father only died twenty-four hours ago, he needs to be in the right mind set to have a conversation with the kingpin regarding his daughter.

I nod. “Yes, I want this. I want this with you.”

“Then you can have it.”

He seals the deal with a kiss, and before long we are getting lost in each other, but only for a few minutes.

Only enough to forget about the pain that is going to come once we leave this room.

13

One Year Before

The darkest days of my life were the days that came after my father’s murder. And I say murder because that’s what happened. He was murdered. It was an act of violence that was meant to send a message.

Well message fucking received.

The funeral was two weeks after the shooting, all because the Texas department of public safety wanted to conduct a thorough investigation. After two weeks, they concluded it was a random act of violence, and released my father’s body to my mother.

Random act, my fucking ass. There was nothing random about it.

But I didn’t question them on it.

One, because my mother was in pain and I wasn’t going to drag it out anymore for her to suffer, and two I would find the pinche pendejos myself.

So, I stood at my father’s funeral with my crying mother at my side, and acted as if I didn’t give a shit who shot her husband down.

After the funeral, the only thing holding me together was Isabella.

She was like an angel that fell from the sky at the right moment.

According to my mother, my dad had sent her because he didn’t trust anyone else to watch over us. I might have agreed with her on that statement.

From the second we left the room after deciding to keep whatever was going on with us a secret, she was by my side making sure I ate and bathed. Not only did she look after me, but she looked after my mother as well, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

As the days went by, my mom became more and more adjusted to my father’s death. She smiled more, actually ate, and was able to get out of bed. The one thing that didn’t stop was her falling asleep in his clothes. I asked her about it, and she told me that smelling his scent every single night was the one thing that kept the tears at bay, so I dropped the subject after that.

The one thing that really did surprised me about my mother was that three weeks after the shooting and a week after we laid my dad to rest, she decided to move back to Canada. The woman spent nearly twenty-eight years in Mexico all because of her husband's choice of career, and now she has nothing holding her here.

I wanted to fight her on it. I wanted to tell her that I was here, she had me, but I knew where she was coming from. So, I agreed to let her go. If she felt safer in Canada, away from the cartel, then so be it.

I’m not going to lie, having my mother in another country and my father six feet under, hurt. I wasn’t used to them not being around and even at twenty-four, as a grown adult, I admitted that I needed them more than anything.

The only thing that was holding me up at that point was Isabella. She was the only thing keeping me from stepping into a black hole.

The black hole of finding my father’s killer.

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