Chapter 9

Isabella

It wasn’t until I was out on the patio in the sunshine that the time difference between San Diego and Kansas City hit me. I’d left early this morning from Missouri, and while it was now late afternoon here, if I was to make it past dinner without falling asleep, I decided I needed rest.

I met Mia at the top of the staircase. “Did you want to discuss more about the apartments?”

“It can wait for Liliana. I wanted to be sure you understood the rules around here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve lived my entire life with rules.”

“These aren’t so strict. If you want to leave the house for things other than work—well for work too—it’s not a problem. You just need to tell Horace, and he can drive you. Do you have his phone number?”

“Yes, we exchanged numbers. Right now, I think I want to lie down. Being out in the sun made me tired.”

Mia smiled and tilted her head. “Isabella, I want you to know how much I appreciate you coming out here to help. I think when you meet Liliana, you’ll understand why she’s having difficulty. Unfortunately, she has gone through a lot for someone so young.”

“She’s a widow.”

Mia nodded. “Sadly, that’s not the worst of it. I want her to be happy and find purpose. If working at the apartments isn’t what she wants to do, that’s okay too. I’ve been trying to boost her self-esteem.” She tilted her head. “While I’m asking you to take the lead and help her, to her, I’ll ask the same. Please don’t take offense. If I’d known Uncle Carmine would let you come out here, I would have had you out here a lot sooner.”

“No offense will be taken. I’ll do my best to not overstep.”

“Oh, there’s no overstepping. All you can do will be appreciated. Don’t hold back. But if in the process, you can make her feel more confident, it would be nice.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Go ahead and rest. Liliana will be here about six and dinner will be at seven.”

I nodded.

As I started to walk away, Mia turned back my direction. “I left a cover-up for you on your bed.”

“Thank you.”

The long white lacy cover-up would reach all the way to the floor and had flowing sleeves to shield me from the sun if I wanted. It was perfect. At the same time, looking at it reminded me of my encounter with el Patrόn, sending shivers and goose bumps over my skin.

For some reason my thoughts went from el Patrόn to the guards I’d recently met, Silas and Horace, to Silas’s wife, Viviana. With the exception of Mia’s husband, all the cartel members were surprisingly pleasant. My lips curled as I recalled Em coming out on the sun deck and teasing me about the punch. If I were to have the same thoughts about members of the famiglia, I could pinpoint those who are friendly and helpful and others that could be considered scary.

Before resting, I chose to take a shower and wash away the travel and sunscreen.

What was it like for Mia to marry into the cartel?

As I added conditioner to my hair, I thought about Jasmine.

How could they stand the dangerous life and dangerous men?

I mean, now that I was out here, I was curious about the dangerous men…in a way that caused my nipples to bead.

“Stop that,” I said aloud, referring to my treacherous body. “You’re not out here to further cement the alliance. These men may seem nice but remember how el Patrόn made you feel.”

Wearing panties and a loose t-shirt, I closed the blinds to the beautiful ocean and climbed between the cool sheets. Despite my concerns about sleeping with the cartel around, I drifted off without any effort and woke to the sound of the alarm I set.

It was five-thirty.

I twisted my unruly hair into a messy bun, applied some mascara and lip color. Next, I donned another sundress. This one was golden and went all the way to the floor. At the last minute, I grabbed a half cardigan to cover my arms. I wasn’t looking for another lecture about being covered up.

The delicious aroma of whatever Viviana was cooking met me before I reached the landing. As I stepped onto the first floor, I saw Mia and a young girl out by the pool. The too-thin dark-haired girl was holding Jorge and bouncing him on her hip. My first thought was that this girl couldn’t be Liliana. She looked younger than Noemi.

Maybe she was the daughter of someone Mia knew.

“Señorita Isabella,” Viviana said as I passed the kitchen area.

“Viviana, whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”

“Gracias.” She lifted her chin. “Mia and Liliana are outside. Mia wants to eat out there. It’s a beautiful evening.”

Okay then. This waif of a girl is Liliana.

I thought about Viviana’s greeting. Papà would be furious that she spoke even a little Spanish. Instead of feeling the same way, I grinned at the little knowledge I had of the language. While it wasn’t extensive. I could say please, thank you, and yes.

“Isabella,” Mia said.

Liliana turned, her large brown eyes meeting mine. My first thought was of a Margaret Keane painting, ones where the eyes were giant, often of children and women.