LOGINTwo years ago, a car explosion outside an expensive restaurant in Guadalajara left behind ash, and DNA evidence confirming the death of Xitllali De La Rosa. The world believed the submissive, quiet wife of the city’s most brutal mafia enforcer was gone forever. In reality, Xitllali planned her own death, and she fled into the misty highlands of Chiapas, changed her name, and started over. She opened a small floral shop and tried to build the quiet life she'd always wanted. For two years, it worked. Until the afternoon the bell above her shop door rings, and the ghost of her past steps inside. Guillermo, the husband she ran away from, came before her. She was expecting a bullet to the heart for abandoning the cartel, but she got really surprised when the most feared man in Mexico drops to one knee, slides a gun across the wooden counter, and lowers his head. He knew she faked her death. He let her run. And for twenty-four brutal months, he burned the entire underworld to the ground, slaughtering every person that wanted to hurt her. He didn't come back to kill her. He's here to ask for a second chance.
View MorePOV: Xitllali De La RosaThe opportunity I waited eighteen months for finally came when Guillermo was called away for an emergency meeting in another state. There had been a dispute near the border, and he had to take his senior enforcers with him to settle it before sunrise.He left around two in the morning. Once his convoy drove off, the estate settled into its usual night routine. Four guards stayed outside, two remained in the security room, and one guard walked down the main hallway every twenty minutes.I stayed in bed until three in the morning, listening to the clock on the wall tick by while my heart pounded in my chest.If I wanted to escape, I needed one specific thing: the master security codes inside his office safe. Without those codes, the main gates wouldn't open, and the tracking devices on the estate cars would alert his men the second I drove away. I would be caught before I even reached the highway.When I heard the hall guard's footsteps fade down the far wing, I
POV: Xitllali De La RosaAs I stared through the glass, trying to see the man that stepped out of the black SUV, my thoughts went straight back to Guadalajara. It had been two years, but I still remembered that place more clearly than I wanted to.It never smelled like flowers there. I remembered the cold marble floors, the smell of Guillermo's scotch, and the bleach they used whenever there was blood to clean.Two years ago, before I became Esperanza the florist, I was Xitllali De La Rosa, the daughter of a powerful family, sold off to stitch two rival cartel territories together. My father called it an honor. He called it a strategic alliance.But I called it a life sentence.The Tzotzil-Vargas estate was up in the hills outside Guadalajara. It was huge, with thirty-two rooms and it had more security than any house needed. There were armed guards around the property at all times, and you couldn't go anywhere without seeing one.My husband was Guillermo. To the rest of Mexico, he wa
POV: Xitllali De La Rosa (living as "Esperanza")The knock didn't come again, but I didn't move. I stood between the flower racks, staring at the back door with one hand resting on the iron shears on the counter.The alley had already gone quiet. I waited a few seconds, then picked up the shears and headed toward the back room. I wasn't taking any chances. My fingers gripped the shears tightly, ready to drive the pointed tip into whoever was waiting on the other side of that wood.When I got to the doorway, I stayed against the wall and looked through the little glass pane in the oak door. I saw a shadow shift. But it wasn't a cartel hitman, and it wasn't Guillermo.It was old Doña Teresa, her wool shawl pulled tightly against the rain, and she was holding a wooden crate of fresh marigolds. She tapped gently on the glass again."Esperanza?" her voice called out softly. "I brought the morning flowers, child."A long, silent breath rushed out of my chest. My knees almost gave out. I le
POV: Xitllali De La Rosa (living as "Esperanza")My heart was still racing after the SUV disappeared around the corner.I knelt down and started picking up the broken pieces of the pot.It was probably nothing, I told myself. It was just a passing car. Maybe some rich tourist who had taken a wrong turn. People get lost here all the time. It didn't mean anything."You're going to cut yourself if you handle the big pieces like that."The voice came from behind me. It was low and rough.I turned, and saw Xiaro.He stood in the doorway of La Calandria, one of his shoulders rested against the wooden frame. He was wearing his usual faded apron, and he had flour stains all over it.I'd known Xiaro for almost two years. He was quiet, just like me, and he never talked about where he lived before moving here.There were still things about him I am curious about.Things like the scars on his body. There were several of them. Some were faded and uneven, and they ran across his forearms. They didn
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