7
Rafael
"Perez was happy with the shipment?" I asked, staring at Braxton Knight where he sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. The arms dealer was as ruthless as they came, often working as the middleman and walking into tense negotiations without fear. To harm him would put us all at a disadvantage. There was a reason the man was my sole contact when I needed weaponry.
"Yes. He was satisfied, as I'm sure you can see." He smirked, nodding to the briefcase filled with cash that rested on my desk.
"Good. My wife and I will be going to Chicago shortly, but while we're gone I need you to coordinate with Alejandro. I want all the ammunition stocked, make sure every last gun is working properly, and stock up on your extra toys. Show me what you've done when I get back, and you know I'll make sure you're paid well," I said, standing from the desk. I handed the briefcase off to Alejandro where he hovered at the edge of the room. With a nod, he took it and left to go make arrangements for the cash to be distributed among my accounts.
"Ohh,wife," Braxton teased. "That sounds positively domestic."
"Don't start with me," I warned, but my lips twitched in amusement. There weren't many men who could draw a laugh from me, but Braxton somehow made me chuckle when we invaded the homes of my enemies and were covered in their blood.
The man had a gift.
The door pushed open without warning, and both Braxton and I bolted to our feet with our hands on our guns. Regina stood there, her face strained as her lungs heaved with exertion. "What the fuck?" I asked, moving toward her.
"Mi hijo," she said, leaning forward with a hand pressed to her heart. "You must come.Now."
"Coordinate with Alejandro," I barked out the order to Braxton before I followed Regina out of my office. My heart was in my throat as we made our way down the short hall and through the kitchen. "What's wrong?" I asked, following as she hurried through the maze of hallways. She passed the bedroom I shared with Isa, making her way to the only room that could have elicited such a response from Regina.
But where was Isa?
If she'd wandered inside the tomb I'd created of my father's belongings after his death, there was no telling what she might have seen. His crimes against humanity were extensive, and all the hope fled that she might have been able to see beyond his involvement in her drowning one day. If she knew how much worse he was capable of, how could she ever stand to look at me again?
Isa stood behind the desk in the center of the room, staring down into a box that rested on top of it. When I entered the room, the breath left me in a rush.
The woman standing before me held no traces ofmi princesa,the innocence gone from every line of her face as she turned blazing green eyes up to me. "Mi reina?"I asked.
She grasped the edges of the box in her hands, lifting it and turning it until the contents spilled over the desk. Photo after photo fluttered to the surface, Isa's face staring up from each and every one of them.
I stepped forward, running calloused fingers over them as I looked at the sheer number of them in shock.
Isa's face as a child was as familiar to me as the woman who stared back at me now with her jaw clenched tight in fury.
"I can't believe I didn't see it. Her eyes should have been a dead giveaway, but there were so many children with heterochromia...." Regina trailed off.
"These were taken after the river," Isa murmured, her eyes darting from one photo to the other.
"How can you be certain?" Regina asked.
"I just am. Look at this one," she said, picking up one of the photos. "This is me, and that's Odina glaring at me in the corner. Before the accident, she would have been right by my side, but never after." She set the photo down, picking up another. "My grandmother bought me this dress for my eighth birthday," she said. I watched on with mounting dread as Isa ruffled through the photos on the desk.
The sheer number of them...she was different from the others.
"Are there any that might have been taken before that day?" I asked, stepping around the desk to wrap an arm around her shoulders as she studied them. I didn't know why, but it felt like that was important. Like it marked a significant change.
"I don't think so," she whispered. "These all feel like they were taken after. I don't know how to explain it. Why would he stalk meafterhe tried to kill me? Doesn't the reverse usually happen?" she asked, turning her eyes up to mine. Uncertainty crept in past her fury, her cheeks turning pink as her panic settled in. All her life, she'd been watched.
First by my father and then by me. I really was no different from the man who raised me.
"What age did the photos stop?" Regina asked her. "Miguel didn't die until five years ago."
"I think they stopped before then. If that’s the case I would have been thirteen when he died," Isa said. "But I don't think I see photos of me after I turned ten if I'm honest. It's hard to say, but that's my feeling." She reached forward, brushing her hand through the pile of photos and giving them one last look over.
Calculating the math in my head, I knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Miguel may not have died when Isa was younger, but someone had. "My father wasn't the one taking these of you, though I don't doubt it was done at his request."
"Who?" Isa asked.