“Lauren and I will see you at your apartment in two hours to discuss the offer that Elektra sent,” Lucia breaks the silence while giving me a serious expression. Her long brown hair cascades down her front as she looks at me with her soft brown eyes.
“Okay, make sure to bring donuts, red bulls, coffee, and tacos. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night,” I respond with a quick nod, giving Lauren and Lucia a smirk. They simply nod in response and walk across the ashen street quickly hopping into their cars. Driving off with a clear friction in their tires, they slowly merge onto the enclosed highway.
“What about me,princesa?” I turn around to see my brother looking at me with his classic eyebrow raise.
I totally forgot about him. Oops.
“¡Muchísimas gracias, hermano!”I pull León into my arms, squeezing him as tightly as possible. He changed his clothes while we were on the flight.
It isn’t that big of an outfit change: the suit has gone from a gray tone to his signature all black. His reputation precedes him in every way. Ways that I don’t even want to mention, but he is calledEl Rey Del Hampa deMéxicofor a reason.
“It’s nothing. Now go and make those negotiators your bitch.” He smirks.
“Tú sabes.”I give him a wink before walking away.
I finally reach my apartment complex in Polanco. The black reflective mirrors on the exterior of the building shine brightly. Holding up my card to the monitor, it flashes a purple and blue light over the barcode. The garage door opens, signifying the card’s authenticity.
Inside, I’m met with the view of my own personal garage. Grabbing my phone, I press the open button and the shiny black titanium door opens, revealing my collection of cars. The black and white marble walls can be seen through the windows of all the vehicles.
Parking my motorcycle inside, I quickly pass by all my babies, briefly glancing at my favorite. My custom 2021 McLaren 720s with a matte black exterior and red leather interior.
My other two cars pale in comparison. To the left, my black jeep with a custom gray interior and to the right is my black Buick Enclave with an orange interior. My cars are sexy, and I love them.
After reminiscing over my beautiful automobiles, I turn away and tuck a curl behind my ear while walking towards the elevator. Pressing the button it lights up with a faint purple glow and a ding sounds. The doors separate pushing a cool breeze onto my face. I press the only button available on the panel and the elevator passes multiple floors until the view of the city is visible.
The elevator is encased by four rectangular panels of glass forming the space’s capacity. Looking out, white lights adorn every building in sight. Looking down, multiple restaurants are sitting in a straight line, filled with crowds of people talking and laughing, Polanco’s lifestyle shining.
Lost in thought, I barely hear the elevator ding signifying my arrival. Snapping out of it, I step into my apartment and the smell of L’homme from Prada is revealed to my senses.
I smile. I’m home.
Walking onto my smokey gray wood floors, I’m met with my living room. Bending down I take off my sneakers before I walk into my primary living space. From the high ceilings to the multi-level floor leading to my spacious black couch. My feet are met by my traditional hand woven black and gray carpet. Looking up, the view of the city is right in front of me.
Moving my toes back and forth against the carpet, I finally fall back onto my couch. Sinking into its consuming warmth. I’m greeted with the sight of the TV plastered against a gray concrete wall. Staring into nothing, I come to my senses and notice my housekeeper, Nieves.
She’s fifty-six years old and still looking like she’s in her forties. She greets me with her adorable smile. Her stick straight long black hair flows beautifully around her five-foot one body.
“¿Hola señorita, quieres algo?”She motions towards the kitchen as she talks.
“Pues... voy a tener visitas como en una hora. Si puedes preparar agua de Jamaica y unos platos listos para tacos, porfa?”I smile at her lazily. She smiles and nods walking towards the kitchen.
I quickly stand, making my way through the main spaces of my house. I walk up my spiral staircase and my eyes are met with the first two bedrooms, taking a right I’m able to see my bedroom just hidden slightly in the corner of the hall.
Striding towards my space, I rub my eyes.
Damn I’m tired.
Opening my black steel door, I walk into my bedroom. The black curtains are closed, and my nightstand light is shining brightly. I turn towards my closet, walking in and stripping off my clothes, tossing them in the hamper. I walk to the other side of my bathroom and turn on my gray and black tiled waterfall shower.
After I get the shower started, I step back and pick my clothing of choice. I land on a black sweatshirt that says “fuck off” across the chest, some black leggings, and my grey fuzzy socks.
I walk into the shower, cleaning myself of a championship race and an eighteen-hour flight.
Drifting out of sleep, I hear my ringtone go off. I slap my hand over my phone and groan in the process as I hit the answer button.
“Hello?” I say groggily as I rub my eyes.
“We’re on our way towards your apartment,” Lauren says. I hear a plastic bag rustling in the background, which I assume is food. My stomach growls at the sound, I can almost smell the Al Pastor from here.