Page 39 of When Sinners Hate
“No. You’ve just built this family up, and now your children are taking it right out from under you.” It’s a fair assumption and one she’ll hate.
“And what would you know about our business? You’re just a pawn to us.” Her deflection is quick, but I know a woman like her must be aware of what’s happening.
“Interesting you only see that. It’s disappointing, frankly. I thought you’d understand the sacrifice I’ve made for my family. Something that your daughter might want to learn.” I push a little further and wait for her to bite, but she doesn’t, regardless of my provoking her. I need to, though; otherwise, understanding how to take this family apart from the inside is going to take a lot longer than I want. A few comments to stir the volatility will work in my favour.
“I see my son hasn’t taught you where your place is.”
“Oh, he’s been clear, and perhaps if I were just another one of your ‘merchandise’, then I’d have fallen into line like a good little girl. But, like it or not, I’m here and can be an asset. And I’m sure I’m more, should we say, dispensable than poor, young Mariana.”
I feel her presence – her scrutiny – more than anything. It’s overbearing in the small room. “Some of my children are yet to understand the meaning of the sacrifices we make for our family. That alone doesn’t offer you an advantage. But, I can see that you might be more useful than the ring on your finger has provided us.” Her eyes drop to my hand, and she does a very good job of making me feel inferior as she slides her gaze over me. “We’re done.” She pushes past me, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll make sure I let you know next time I want to use your little gym space.” I leave Melena, hopefully, with something to think about.
Coming into this house, I knew I’d have to watch for her, but I didn’t realise there could be an understanding between us, or something that could work in my favour, at least.
By the time I get back to my room, I’m exhausted and grab a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge and down it. Checking my phone, there’s a message from Abel.
Taking you to dinner. Dress up. Be ready at 7.
Plenty of time to get ready. Although I’m already mentally reviewing my wardrobe. So far, there’s nothing that’s pleased Abel, and while most of my decisions have an ulterior motive, there’s something about a man’s gaze to boost your ego that nothing else can compensate for.
I pick a skin-tight skirt and silk top that’s alluring and sexy but not in the obvious way some of my choices have been in the past. No red lipstick, but I ensure every other part of my makeup is beautiful yet understated, and then I top it all off with my favourite heels.
I’m waiting for Abel with ten minutes to spare. Even though my shoes deserve better, I pace the lobby area, waiting. If I’m honest with myself, I’m looking forward to what this evening might mean, even though I still feel in the dark as to Abel Cortez.
The door opens, and I already have a smile creeping over my face. But it’s not Abel.
“Dante? Not the brother I was expecting.”
He looks at me and gives me a wicked grin. A grin that doesn’t show any frustration or suspicion of me, and it sends ice through my veins.
“No. Don’t worry, though. You’ll see him soon enough.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ABEL
Mariana’s words cut deep the other day. She called herself a prisoner, and then called my wife one. She’s right about Alexia. She is until I can trust her. I can’t trust anyone until I know them – every inch of them. I need to know their fears, their problems, their hatred and malice. I need to know how they tick – why they tick.
I’ve deflected the only option I have to find that until now. Perhaps I've been giving myself room to breathe rather than deal with the inevitability that will cause should she find sense. But either way, I need her onside and looking at what she's got in front of her rather than what's behind, because having an enemy in my space isn't carrying on any longer.
Another round of men come past me in the dirty, old room, this time carrying a dead body wrapped up in plastic. It’ll be taken out to the desert soon and buried, perhaps to be dug up by scavengers at some point in the future. Doesn’t matter. It was just another whore from the streets, and snuff films make a lot of money. We facilitate that, whether that world around us likes it or not. It’s just business. Nothing but business.
I come here to watch, occasionally. It’s the need for something more than I’m used to, something to titillate my unresponsive detachment. But that's not why I’m here now. I’ve made a choice based on instinct because I can’t go on knowing my wife is scheming behind my back. I knew it would be part of this deal long before I agreed to it. It’s the way that family is wired – the way she’s wired. That's why I took her on myself, to shield my brothers from having to deal with it all. Add in the email from Mariana an hour ago about Alexia trying to wheedle her way in, and Mother’s spiteful tongue about her, and I’m ready to finish what I was about to start anyway.
The damp air and smell of sweat and blood drift around my senses, bringing my mood further down with every passing minute. She’ll be here soon, and then maybe after we’ve finished, she’ll start being honest with me about who she is under that life she’s lived. It’s the only version of a wife I’m interested in. And the only one that might get to meet a husband she’ll enjoy rather than hate.
“Abel.” I look at Chance Pierson, as another guy walks past him, and nod. “Good to see you.” He offers his hand and we shake. It’s not overly friendly, more business-like. We’ve made a lot of money off each other over the years, and, like or not, we’re on the same wavelength about life. He happens to be a whole lot more sadistic than me, but that’s a useful trait given his profession and this venture he runs. “Why are you here? Carmen booked the room.”
I cast my gaze at the door Dante will come through. “Training.”
“But the fact that you’re here implies you’re doing it yourself.” I chuckle at the thought. Who else trains their own wife? “I expected Carmen. I did wonder why she bothered leaving my place this morning.”
“Different kind of training.”
“Ah.” He looks at another couple of women being dragged past, and then a half-dead guy. “Well, studio four is as clean as it gets. Send me the film.”
“I didn’t come here for clean. And you can’t have this one. No filming.”