Page 45 of When Sinners Dare

Elias, now Mother.

He was taken from us too soon, and we still have the shadow of vengeance hanging over our heads. It’s been months. At least Abel’s preoccupied with it now. But once again, it all comes down to him. Dante was ready to tear this place down at Elias’ funeral. Now, he’s controlled more than ever by the leash Abel’s tied around his neck. No doubt, helped by falling for Wren.

I head downstairs where we’re all meant to be gathered.

A family affair. That’s it, according to Abel. Nobody really questioned him before Mother’s death, and his grip on the family has only grown stronger since. The funeral arrangements were all him – no input or joint choices or discussions – as if we wouldn’t want a say.

Shaw’s drinking when I go into the main room. Despite us being twins, we’re not close. In fact, I resent what he has in this family considering he’s not cut out for it. We all know I’m the stronger one of us, but nobody says that out loud.

“A little early, Shaw.” I look at the bottle in his hand.

“Not today, Mariana. And who the fuck are you to tell me if I can drink before my mother’s funeral or not.”

“Easy. Drink if you want.” I leave him and try to remember that he’s a shit at the best of times, let alone today.

We’re not waiting long before Knox shows up. He’s been quiet and distant since the fight with Abel, and I wonder if that’s still to be resolved. He nods at me and, uncharacteristically, pulls me into a hug. Not usual Cortez behaviour, but it feels good – like he’s absolved me of some of the guilt that won’t leave and festers inside of me.

The door opening breaks the connection, and Abel walks in. “We’re ready.” His eyes glance at each of us before he leaves.

There are no further words. No family toast, no cheap tequila to fortify our resolve. Mother would have hated it, and maybe that’s why Abel’s doing it. Although I always thought they were close and considering Dante’s words about him hurting, I expected more somehow.

Two cars take us to the cemetery, where we stand and watch as she’s lowered into the ground and the pastor speaks words I doubt any of us are listening to. Standing amongst my brothers – amongst my family – I feel more alone than ever. Only a few months ago I’d have slotted my arm through Dante’s and been grateful for his strength. But Wren is there now. And Lexi stands next to Abel, her beautiful face painted to perfection and looking every inch the Queen I know she believes she is. She came to me looking for an ally, and now I doubt she’d offer me the same courtesy. Why does she need one when she’s the head of her family and married to ours? And with her at the top, where does that leave me? An outcast daughter with no place to stand on her own? The guilty party?

If there was something that Mother and I did share in common, it’s that our family is at our heart. All my life I’ve wanted to be seen as one of my brothers. Looked up and idolised them, and still, after everything, I’m standing on the outskirts.

My gaze drifts to the plaque in the ground next to the open grave site.

Elias.

This family has always been about strength. About control. To the outside, we’re stronger than ever with the Ortega name behind us. Yet internally, I feel the fractures and weakness that were never there before. Revenge is at the heart of that.

Jackson Reed needs to be put in the ground, and our property needs delivering back to us.

The funeral ends, and we travel in relative silence back to the house. There are no celebrations waiting, so we all begin to disband, but Abel stops us. “I said it once, I’ll say it again. Our legacy and name will not diminish. We will be stronger, I promise each of you that, but only if we all get our shit together. No more tantrums, no more questions, and no more fucking arguments. Salud.”

Typical Abel.

He leaves as if today was just another day and not the one where we buried our mother.

~

I’ve got a busy couple of days.

My tattoo looks good. No more itching and it’s not scabbed.

I don’t know why I keep sending him messages, but I do. And it’s fucking annoying. Luckily, the last-minute arrangements for Apartment B keep me occupied. It didn’t stop me from sending Kai an invitation to the opening, though. If he’s a no-show, I’ll delete his number. I’ll move on because I hate feeling fucking weak because of a man.

My dress is flawless, my heels match, and I take the elevator up to survey the preparations before guests arrive. We’ve had a few clients in to sample the girls over the last week or so. Call it a soft launch because nothing can go wrong tonight. This is the first project I’ve been in charge of, and it will go perfectly.

My brother gave me this to keep me busy; well, screw him because this will be a crown jewel in the Cortez family business. And it’s down to me. Only me. Even Abel couldn’t hide that when he visited.

The bar is stocked, and the girls working are all dressed in the specific outfits I curated for the night. As it’s the opening, I want all the dresses to look like they could be unwrapped – and some of them can. It also works if the clients are into bondage, so a hidden bonus.

Lauren is on shift and has a lot to prove. She’s obvious and abrupt and not what I’d have chosen, but she came from Carmen, so she should know her place.

Carmen’s not delivered any other girls, so I’m guessing she doesn’t have what I need, after all. If Lauren can sell herself as well as she claims, she’ll stay. Otherwise…

The music is full of bass and louder in the main area, with individual sound systems in each of the private rooms. They are set up for whatever comfort or proclivity the clients may want, within reason. The boys run the auctions and trafficking; this project is straight-up money for sex. A lot of money.

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