Alana
My pulse throbbedin my temples as I stood there with my mouth half open, staring at my husband. I had no idea what the hell was going on here. Alejandro Montoya was the King of L.A, and I was supposed to be his queen. I was the woman he was supposed to share everything with, even his secrets. So, what the hell was I missing here? Why had he taken such an aversion to a pregnant sixteen year old girl?
I had first met Lucy Gallagher a few months earlier at the women’s shelter I worked at. She had lied about her age to the shelter manager to get herself a bed. But when the truth had eventually come out, she had been taken into the care of the authorities. I had been the one Lucy had confided in and I felt a sense of responsibility towards her since. Alejandro had asked his lawyer to work on the case, and they had assured me that Lucy would be placed with a good, caring family. But now, she had turned up at our house - late at night and in obvious distress. So, why was my husband turning her away?
‘What is it?’ I asked him. ‘Why won’t you let Lucy in here?’
He turned to me and frowned. His tongue darted out of his mouth as he licked his lower lip before running a hand through his thick, dark hair in exasperation. ‘Because her name isn’t Lucy for a start. She is not who you think she is, Alana.’
I stared at him, blinking in shock. ‘Then who is she?’
Alejandro pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and glared at me.
My heart was hammering in my chest as the possible scenarios ran through my head. None of them good, and I felt the anxiety churning in my stomach. ‘Alejandro, who is she?’ I asked again, the tremor in my voice audible now.
He sighed loudly before looking to his driver, Jacob, who had burst in on us a few moments earlier to tell us of Lucy’s arrival. ‘Let her in then,’ Alejandro snapped before he turned back to me. ‘She can tell you herself.’
Alejandro and I stood in silence in for what felt like an eternity while we waited for Lucy to be shown into the den of our house.
I glanced over at him as a multitude of questions and assumptions raced around my head, hoping for at least some hint of what I was about to discover. He stood tall and fierce, glaring at the open doorway. With his hands still in his pockets and his feet planted wide apart, he looked as though he was preparing to go into battle and I swallowed the knot of anxiety that felt lodged in my throat.
Was he nervous? Maybe?
Angry? Most definitely. I could feel it coming from him in waves as he stood there. It was hard to believe that just a few moments earlier, I had been lying beneath him on the sofa, giggling and waiting for him to tear my panties off.
I wanted to ask him again who Lucy was. I wanted to shake him and demand answers, but he looked so intense standing there, and a part of me was too afraid to find out why a sixteen year old pregnant girl had made him react this way.
Lucy walked into the room and Alejandro sat on the sofa, his eyes remaining fixed on her. She ignored him and looked straight at me, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘Lucy! Are you okay?’ I asked as I crossed the room to her.
‘Yes,’ she said as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve.
‘Come on in. Have a seat,’ Alejandro snarled as he signaled the armchair. ‘And then you can tell us all why you’re really here, can’t you Lucia?’
As he spoke his last word, her face paled and she visibly started to tremble as she stood there looking at him. Then, in a few seconds, it was though she regained her composure and she transformed in front of my eyes, her jaw tilted in defiance as she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder.
‘So, you know who I am?’ she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Alejandro scowled at her. ‘Of course I do. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out? I take a particular interest in anyone who gets so close to my wife, and you of all people should know that.’
She glared at him.
‘What is going on? Lucy? Or is it Lucia?’ I said as I looked between the two of them.
‘Tell her,’ Alejandro snapped.
Lucy looked at me and my heart started to hammer so violently in my chest, I thought that everyone in the room must have been able to hear it too.
‘My name is Lucia Ramos. I am the only surviving member of the Ramos family.’
‘Ramos?’ I repeated. The name sounded familiar to me.
‘Yes,’ she said softly.
‘Why do I recognize that name?’ I asked.
‘Because they were one of the biggest firms in Chicago. At least until two years ago when the entire family was wiped out. All except Lucia here,’ Alejandro answered.