“Caroline?” Closing my eyes, I strained for control. “I’m going to kill that psycho cunt.”
“Mark—” Mrs. Cordova never took her eyes off Selena, “Either control your tongue or you leave. This is a conversation between Ms. Murphy and myself.”
Leo joined me on my other side, putting his hand on my shoulder, “Easy. Don’t fuck this up. You need to be here. Nothing matters but Layla.”
He was right.
Shaking them off, I nodded to Mrs. Cordova. “Forgive me.”
She’d already dismissed me. Her dark eyes narrowed on Selena who glared right back.
I had no idea what their personal history might entail, but there clearly wasn’t any love lost between the two women.
Taking a step closer to the desk where Mrs. Cordova sat, Selena surprised me by not backing down. “I said I’d like to have a word with you alone, please.”
Motioning to the room, Mrs. Cordova said, “Everyone but family—out. Except you, Mark. You may stay.”
She probably only allowed me because she knew she’d have to drag me out of there.
“Why are you here?”
For the first time, Selena’s proud look fell the slightest bit. “I know where Layla is being held, and I’ll help you rescue her, but I want something in return.”
Diego and Leo maintained their grip on me, reminding me to keep my mouth shut, but it was fucking hard.
“Did Sean Murphy have anything to do with Layla’s abduction?”
At the mention of her father’s name, Selena’s expression turned stony. “He is a bastard without measure, an immoral psychopath and self-absorbed narcissist, but he didn’t have anything to do with Layla’s kidnapping. That was all Caroline. He probably still doesn’t know she has Layla stashed out at one of his secret homes. He both indulges and ignores Caroline, using her when he sees fit, but otherwise not giving a shit about anyone but himself.”
“Will she hurt Layla?”
“No, I don’t think so. She’s never gone this far before, at least that I know of. Usually, she just fixates on a guy and manipulates her way into his bed. Doesn’t matter if he’s rich, poor, married or single—if she sees someone she wants, she won’t rest until she has him. I think my father admires that, in his sick-messed up way, because he’s the same. Once he sets his sights on something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
“Perhaps I should call him,” Mrs. Cordova mused. “We’re business associates, after all. If his daughter has slipped her leash and taken Layla without his knowledge, he could get her back.”
“You don’t want to do that.”
“Why? I wouldn’t owe your father any favors. In fact, he would owe me for the insult of Caroline kidnapping one of my people.”
“Because he’s a racist, two-faced asshole whose plotting your downfall with his racist, asshole friends. You don’t want to be indebted to that man and his twisted buddies for anything.” She tilted her head slightly. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Mrs. Cordova’s brows rose, and she shrugged. “What would I owe you for helping me secure Layla? Let me guess. Money—lots and lots of money. Greed runs deep in your blood.”
“You arrogant bitch,” Selena growled, stunning everyone in the room. “I never wanted anyone’s money. My father is holding my three-year-old daughter Cameron hostage in the same place where Layla is being held. I want her back!” Her voice echoed as she screamed the last part, but then she looked up at the ceiling and visibly composed herself. “You get my daughter, and I’ll help you get Layla.”
“You have a daughter?” Diego asked in a shocked whisper. “Who’s the father?”
Once again, the imperial queen came out in Selena’s posture as she lowered her head to look at him. “Yes, I do, and who Cameron’s father is is none of your business. Now, Mrs. Cordova, do we have a deal?”
“Why would your father hold your daughter hostage?” Mrs. Cordova asked in a suspicious voice. “Every time I’ve seen you at an event together, you are the perfect, happy family. No mention of this mysterious child of yours. Didn’t I just see you in a commercial last week for your father’s upcoming campaign? And I know I’ve seen your picture on billboards posing with the happy Murphy Clan. You don’t seem very forced. From what I remember, you’re a proud woman who does what she wants.”
Selena’s eyes narrowed, but her voice was soft as she said, “I’ve discovered that I can, and will do anything to protect my child. I’ll even pretend to like my family and swallow my pride until I choke on it.”
“You expect me to believe that Sean Murphy, who is big on family and bloodlines, would ignore his own grandchild? That he’d let a possible cute baby photo-op go to waste? Surely an adorable granddaughter would be just the kind of image boost he needed.”
“My father literally cannot stand the sight of my daughter. He looks at Cameron like she’s a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe. It’s bad enough that I’m the product of an affair my father had with his family’s dark skinned Dominican maid when he was a teenager. At least I can ‘pass’ as white, with my hair and eyes.” She pulled out her phone and swiped the screen, then slowly moved in a circle, showing a picture of an adorable toddler girl with cinnamon tinted black skin, blue eyes, and curly black hair. “As you can see, my daughter’s father was dark skinned so, other than her blue eyes, Cameron takes after her Nigerian dad. You will never see my father’s racist ass acknowledge that he has a ‘half-breed’ grandchild. It would hurt him with his base, his fellow pieces of racist trash. They’d kick him out of the good old boys club.”