Page 2 of Ruthless Rival

Señor Mora stood to the side and watched me. Luckily, he wasn’t a cruel man like my father. He was an elderly man, but he had manners and treated me well. I respected him more than my father or anyone in his cartel.

I only got to hold my babies for twenty minutes before my father and a few of his men stormed into my hospital room.

“Take them,” my father said.

It didn’t matter how much I screamed and cried. Not even Señor Mora could do anything to stop my father’s men from tearing my babies from my arms. My father probably paid off the hospital staff to turn a blind eye because no one came to my babies’ rescue.

That was the last time I saw my children…

…I shook hurtful memories away, attempting not to dwell on the past. I wasn’t that young, naïve girl anymore. I’d made something of myself by going to school for business and applying my knowledge by working for a few business organizations. I was building my own life, even if it was alone.

I strode into the house, my black heels clacking against the black and white tile floor in the foyer. A few years after my twins were taken away from me, Señor Mora passed away, leaving me free and rich. He willingly left me everything since I fulfilled my marital duties to him.

Now, that money would be going toward my plan of revenge.

Not only did I want to make my father pay for what he did, but I wanted to go after his cartel as well. Only a few people in my own family showed me any mercy after my babies were taken from me. Many of them turned their noses up at me and kicked me while I was down, while others were too scared of my father to even give me a sympathetic look.

Carlos, my abuela and a few others were the only ones who were safe from my wrath. My mother died of pneumonia years ago when Carlos and I were small. Sometimes I thought she’d gotten lucky, as she had escaped a life with a cruel husband like my father.

I walked into the vast living room and switched on the television, studying the local news in New Orleans. Violence. Death. Drugs. What a homecoming.

None of this was surprising, though. For a long time now, I had been watching the Castillos and the Mancinis, a local Italian mob family, square off with each other. Now would be the perfect time for me to infiltrate and destroy everything I hated from the inside out.

I had my cousin, Ignacio to thank for all of the information. He was my ally and I didn’t have many of those at all. So I was grateful for him and the risks he took to keep me in the loop. I frowned at the thought. It killed me that my own brother was trapped in a possibly endless sleep as a result of the war that raged between the Castillos and the Mancinis.

“Welcome back!”

I turned to see a small, round woman with short, dark hair and a vibrant smile. Mrs. Cruz, the housekeeper, approached me with open arms. She had kept me company for many years, even after my late husband passed.

“It’s nice to see you,” I greeted her kindly as I hugged her.

Mrs. Cruz patted my back in an affectionate manner before letting me go. “Are you here for business, Mrs. Mora?”

“You could say that,” I replied as a smile crossed my face. “I have a wedding to attend tomorrow.”

“How wonderful! One of your friends is getting married?” Mrs. Cruz asked.

The wedding was only one step of many to take my father and his cartel down. I had to do everything with precision. That meant turning up the charm and losing the emotion I used to let control me.

Alberto Mancini’s youngest son, Adriano, was getting married. I planned to get back at my father by aligning myself with his biggest enemy, the Mancinis. After some careful poking around, I found out that the governor, Howard Todd would be a guest at the wedding.

Lucky for me, my longtime friend, Lina, knew the governor. It had been too easy for me to charm him enough to make him ask me to be his last-minute date to the wedding. The past version of me would never use others for my own personal gain, but I had to be a little like my father to have any chance of taking him down.

“A new friend of mine,” I replied. If things went my way, I would be very close to the Mancinis soon, especially the father, Alberto Mancini. He was my primary target, the man who ran it all as I needed all the power I could get under my belt.

“I hope you have a great time, señora,” Mrs. Cruz told me sincerely.

I placed my hand on her upper arm and gave her a grateful look. She had been good to me all these years. Once I turned my father’s cartel into dust, I could live wherever I wanted and wouldn’t have any use for this house any longer. It would then belong to her.

“Thank you,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to be in my room for a little while.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Cruz replied with a nod.

I smiled at her before walking up the winding stairs and down a hallway to the master bedroom. When he was alive, Señor Mora didn’t sleep in the master bedroom with me. He slept down the hallway in another guest bedroom, giving me the privacy and comfort I didn’t expect him to give me.

The man had been strict toward others, especially when it came to business. Whenever he talked to any of the cartel members, he would be sharp and direct, so no one gave him any crap. I had to admit it had been a good cover for him, as you needed to be ruthless in this line of business. To me, he was kind and understanding. I had figured that maybe he had just felt sorry for me, so he never tried to make my life any worse.

I paused in the doorway, letting my eyes sweep over the room. The queen-sized bed with its white sheets was neatly made. The wooden dresser and entertainment center had been recently dusted. Some of my belongings ? like a phone charger, a few bobby pins, some clothes, and my journal full of forgotten sketches from when I had the motivation for my passion for art ? still remained where I had left them.

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