Page 47 of Violent Attraction

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It took a handful of years for me to realize just how much my father dictated what I did with my life.

I guess that’s what happens when you are no longer under his bubble twenty-four-seven, but even then, he still calls the shots.

For all intents and purposes, I know for a fact that I don’t live or have the perfect life. I also know that the life I live is not a life that I would wish upon my greatest enemy.

There was a point in my life I thought that the world that was handed to us by my father, was something that I would be forever grateful for. Forever cherish and hold near and dear to my heart. Then I learned the truth on how and why we had the things that we did.

There wasn’t anything that me and my sister couldn’t ask for during our teenage years.

Clothes.

Cars.

Jewelry.

Money.

Whatever request that came out of our mouths, our father gave us. Even Leo stepped in, especially when I moved to Austin and needed a car and my own place to live.

Those men have handed us almost everything, Leo being the one to put up more of a fight, but nothing compared to the leniency of my father.

At an early age, around the time of my mother’s death, I realized that the life that surrounded me, was one filled with not only death but with blood as well. Add the drugs, the weapons that my family moved around, and the drug money associated with it, and it would feel like a prison at times.

Especially these last four years, when I got a much deeper look into the business that my father has perfected.

It’s a dark one and makes me look at my father differently.

I’m not going to lie, there have been times in my life where I wanted to escape, I couldn't. Because no matter how hard I try, I will forever be tied to my family’s name.

Not even as I draw one of my designs on paper, do I see the day when I will be able to go against my father’s word and live the life that I want to live, with the person I want to live it with.

There will always be an obstacle in the way and the obstacle is my father and this cartel.

I shake my head and go back to concentrating on the design in front of me.

It’s been a month since Santiago came to me and told me that he wanted to call a meeting with my father.

A month since he told me that he wanted to propose.

I was happy.

I was so freaking ecstatic that my dream of spending the rest of my life with this man was going to come true.

Then my mind reminded me that there was a reason why I was holding out on telling my father about my relationship.

Throughout the years, the jokes of him being killed and castrated were just that, jokes. A part of me though, a very big part, knew that it could happen. My father could kill him or have him killed and I wasn’t going to let that happen.

So, I kept it a secret.

If I could keep it from my father forever, I would but it was the look of disappointment in Santiago’s eyes and the anger that radiated off his body that convinced me not to.

I guess I should hate my father even more because he’s dictating this too.

Because we’re going to tell my father, I thought that it would be best for me to come to San Pedro and make it seem like I was here to spend time with him. To lessen the blow, in a way.

I asked the boutique if it was possible for me to work from home, and they agreed. So here I am in San Pedro, trying to come up with new designs and patiently wait for the day that Santos finally speaks to Ronaldo.

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