“Do you want me to get even angrier, Ale?”
“No, I don’t, but I don’t want you to feel the need to lie to me.”
“I watched when you crashed, and I was there when I saw you fall onto the ground. They had to pull me off of you so they could get into the ambulance, and even then, I had to walk back to my post like nothing happened. I had to go to post-race interviews and answer questions I didn’t even want to hear. When in reality, they didn’t know that I saw my life with you flash before my eyes.”
“Stop,” I tell him.
“No, I’m not going to stop. I may not like the fact that your family life is everything I despise.”
“What a great start,” I scoff. “Listen to me. You may not be what I expected, but you are everything I dreamed of. You could kill every person in the world, including me, and I would still love you. Because the thought of losing you is worse than living without your snarky comments and overthinking. Even your family. None of that matters when I’m with you. Because, baby, I hate everyone except you.” I look up at him in shock. His words not processing in my brain.
“Did you just say love?”
“I’m tired of living in my past life. Why should I dwell?” He tells me, referring to Adèle.
“You said you love me.” I’m absolutely paralyzed with shocked. “Yes, I did. Because I do love you.”
“I’m in the multiverse or some shit, I swear.” I sigh. “Baby, look at me.” I turn towards him again, seeing tears in his eyes. I blink like fourteen thousand times and the image is as clear as day.
Luca Donatello is crying.
“I love you,” he says again. To solidify the words coming from his mouth while they process in my brain, I pinch myself.
“Did you just pinch yourself?” He laughs, all his tears running down his face, contrasting with his smile.
“So, this is real. I’m not in a coma imagining this?” He gives me an irritated look.
“You don’t have to say it back, but don’t bl—” I cut him off and kiss the ever-living shit out of him. We part, and I whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”
His grin widens then stretches into the smile that I never thought I would ever get the privilege to see all those months ago. That all disappears. “Now you’re going to tell me about your family because I have questions.” He crosses his arms and I laugh. “You look like a ten-year-old pouting,” I point out.
“Don’t change the subject.” I turn to him and chuckle. “Okay, crack at it, big boy.”
“Have you ever killed someone?” He starts asking.
“Not purposely.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“That’s the honest answer.” I shrug. “Why does everyone think that your father and brother are the leading businessmen in Mexico?” I sigh. This is going to be a long one.
“They bought a business prototype from a guy in the Netherlands. It would be able to sell millions a year. So, my dad bought it, and it did better than expected. My father needed a cover up, and the only way to do that was by hiding in plain sight. He has a guy in the countryside of Sinaloa who everyone thinks is the real Don, but that’s not the case,” I explain to him briefly.
“Why didn’t your father just leave the cartel when he knew that the business cover up was doing so well?” I chuckle. “Because he makes more in two months than that business makes in a year.” He stiffens. “What does his job entail exactly?”
“That’s not a question for me. I knew from a young age I wanted to stay out of it. Why do you think I became an F1 driver? Had I wanted to, I could be the heir to the Castillo empire, but I gave it to my brother instead.”
“Okay, one last question: what does El Mictlan mean?” I inhale. “I don’t think you want to know.” He looks at me, trying to get answers.
I speak, it’s not like it’s gonna scare me anyway.
“My brother has many names. El Rey, el Rey del Hampa, asesino, heredero, etc. His God-given name, Mictlantecuhtli, the worst. Remember when I told you my father loved giving us mythological names?” He nods before I continue speaking. “Well, he gave me the Greek goddess of war and my brother, the Aztecan king of the underworld. You see, the Aztecans, culturally, weren’t the nicest people. They worshiped the Sun God while fearing the God of Darkness. Mictlantecuhtli was the one they answered to in order to keep them safe, so they killed people as sacrifices. Meaning that when my brother is called that name, he becomes the judge of life and death, choosing the final exit of most people’s souls.” I grab a water bottle, uncap it, and take a sip while examining Luca’s expressions.
“So, I’m guessing I shouldn’t mess with him,” he says nonchalantly.
“That would be a no.” He laughs. “The funny thing is that I always connected someone like your family to the worst parts of my life, but now it’s given me the best.” I smile. “And what would that be, Mr. Donatello?”
“You.”