“Perfect. I can’t believe that woman out there is my wife.” His smile widens.
When he returns his focus to me, he places an envelope on the table, instantly piquing my interest. I rivet my gaze to it wanting to rip it open, but I control myself.
“Love is a blessing few have. Savor it,” I tell him.
He gives me a thoughtful stare then nods with appreciation.
I look back at the envelope. He does, too, the mood suddenly shifting. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I got for you.”
My heart dips at the declaration, but I watch eagerly as he opens the
envelope and pulls out a little plastic bag containing a ring.
Everything inside me freezes when I get a good look at the ring and take in the platinum band with the insignia engraved in the center. It’s my family’s insignia of a griffin in front of the fleur de lis.
The ring is the same as the one I’m wearing. It was given to me by my grandfather on the day he handed me the cartel.
“Where did you find that?”
“I thought you would recognize it.” Eric glances at my ring.
“That’s a ring worn by the men in my family. It bears our insignia. Apart from me, all the men in my family are dead. I’m supposed to be the only one left with a ring like that.”
“I found it among Robert’s things that were sent over from Monaco. I remembered seeing yours. People I’ve spoken to said our El Diablo was wearing a ring like this. They never see his face, but they’ve seen his hand with this ring on it. I don’t know why Robert had it.”
Fucking hell. What does this mean?
Robert was Eric’s ex-best friend, and another asshole who was working for Micah. He was the tech prick who hacked the security system at Eduardo’s house. The motherfucker met his end the same night Micah did but was also one of El Diablo’s middlemen.
As I try to process the bomb Eric just dropped on me, I remember the warning I was given that El Diablo knew things and still knows things.
That warning stayed with me because it felt personal. Like it was someone I fucking knew. I would know someone who was wearing a family ring because that would make them family.
“This just gets stranger by the minute. You’re telling me we’re dealing with a ghost?” I raise my brows.
“Yes, or someone who wants you to believe that.”
I clench my hand into a tight fist. This situation is the first thing I’ve ever come across that I haven’t managed to deal with or resolve. My fucking head is a minefield of exploding thoughts and fears colliding in a cacophony of turmoil. I’m not sure which is worse: thinking of El Diablo as an outside enemy or as a relative who has come back from the dead.
And what about this new ring? Who the fuck was that for?
“I don’t know where to begin tracking a ghost.” I sigh with frustration.
“That’s why I’m going to keep looking,” Eric promises. Gratitude along with relief fills me.
“Gracias, amigo.” I tend to speak Spanish with him in moments of gratefulness.
“De nada.” He clasps his hands together and regards me with keen eyes. “I’m going to start by investigating your family. Can you think of anyone it could be?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Even if I could think of anyone, the way my family members died left little room for survival. With the exception of my grandfather, who died of natural causes, everyone else died a gruesome death. My father and eldest uncle died with my mother in a gas explosion at one of the company plants, then my four remaining uncles were killed in a car crash. On top of that, their bodies were all cremated. I was at their funerals.
“If you can think of anything, let me know. Anything at all will be helpful. Here, you should keep this.” He hands me the bag with the ring. “What’s your take on it?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. But it’s going to mean something to someone.” It will, or it wouldn’t exist.
“Maybe it’s for your traitor,” Eric suggests.