Chapter 30

Isabella

Mia laid her hand on the counter. “Your father still wants to send someone to take you back. He said they would be here this Saturday.”

My eyes filled with tears. “Please, I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to go back to their rules and …” My thoughts were scattered. “Did you know that tonight with Em was the first time I can recall sitting in the front seat of a car? How fucked is that?”

Mia’s eyes opened wide. “I am a bad influence.”

“Is there anything you or el Patrȯn can do to change his mind?”

Mia pressed her lips together.

“I’m scared of things too. I’m scared of going back. I asked to go to college. I even spoke to Catalina about it. My grades were good.” I sighed. “Papà said no. The whole story about wanting me to help Mom with her philanthropic endeavors was her blowing smoke because she didn’t want to admit to Catalina that they’d denied my request. I suppose I would have helped Mom if I were back in Kansas City. But she sits on committees, drinks coffee and then wine. What you’ve done at the apartments is real help. That’s what I want to do. I want to do more than raise money and gossip. You’re changing the tenants’ lives.”

“I’ll talk to Jano. I can even call my brother. Ultimately, the decision is his.”

“Thank you.” I took a breath. “Today one of the tenants came to my office.” I smiled. “She confided in me, and it felt good and bad.”

“Why bad?”

“Because she asked me to talk to you, and I want to help her. I don’t know how.” I went on to tell Mia what Isla had confided in me about Efrain, the new guard at Wanderland. I also mentioned what she’d said about punishment from Lieutenant Nicolas Ruiz. “He holds their assignments over their heads. If they don’t do what he says, they find themselves with the less desirable clients.”

Mia nodded as she listened. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Can you help?”

“I have a thin line to walk without the soldiers believing Jano can’t control his wife.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Can he?”

She grinned. “He’ll listen to me. He’s also knowledgeable regarding the club and the workings within the cartel. I’ll ask his advice. He may choose to talk to Nicolas himself, or he could bring his son, Nick, in on it. One way or the other, it will be dealt with. I’m glad Isla told you. If you ask me, the men at the club know I’m currently on maternity leave and are trying to take advantage of my absence.” She reached out for my hand. “This is why I truly need you here.”

“I want to stay here. Maybe even longer than a month.”

“I have to ask,” Mia said softly. “Are the tenants and the apartments the only reason you want to stay in San Diego?”

Warmth filled my cheeks.

Before I could verbally reply, we turned to the sound of men’s voices and the opening of el Patrȯn’s office door. Mia’s husband was speaking to Em very loudly in Spanish. Em appeared in the arch of the hallway, visibly agitated.

“What is it?” Mia and I asked in unison.

The room became quiet, like the flipping of a switch. Em’s jaw clenched and the muscles in the side of his face pulsated. “Your parents,” Em said, looking at me. “They’re sending a bodyguard Saturday to take you back to your home.”

I stood. “Mia told me. She said she’d try to stop them.”

El Patrȯn ran his hand through his hair and made a growling noise.

Mia moved her gaze from Em to me and back. Then she turned to her husband. “Jano, has Emiliano come to you about something you haven’t mentioned?”

“I have a fucking war—”

Mia smiled. “Of course. Why didn’t I see this?” She slapped her palms against her thighs. “Well, this changes everything.”

I watched in stunned silence as Mia walked to her husband and laid her hands on his shoulders. Something Liliana said to me came back. She’d said that all Mia had to do was smile and she would get her way. The two of them spoke low in a mixture of English and Spanish. Em stood at the other end of the kitchen island, staring at me as if he wanted to take me from this house this minute.

“Faith” I mouthed.

Em swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as we both waited quietly. El Patrόn’s head shook from side to side as Mia continued speaking. She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“Fuck. I’ll make the damn call.” His voice was strong and more measured than a moment ago. He ran his hand over his hair and stared directly at me. The intensity was intimidating. “Do you want to marry Emiliano?”

“I’m afraid my papà—”

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “That was not what I asked. Do you want to marry Emiliano?”

Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I turned my gaze on Emiliano. I was young and naive, the same as Mia described; however, in the short time I’d gotten to know this man, I didn’t fear a future without choices if I became his wife. That future would come if I returned to Missouri. I stood taller as new tears streamed down my cheeks. “Yes, I want to marry Emiliano.”

“Fuck,” el Patrȯn growled. “I’ll call the capo soon.” He pointed at me and at Em. “This won’t be a repeat of Camila and Dante. You must have the consent of the famiglia and the cartel.” He exhaled. “I need you here in San Diego, Em. That’s not debatable. I give my permission. The final decision rests with Dario.”  He turned to Em. “Go. You have work to do.”

Em nodded. “Thank you, Mia.”

Her husband shook his head. “You’re not very good at knowing who you should ask or thank.”

Em’s lips curled. “Thank you, el Patrȯn.” He turned to me and winked.