Victoria

After a hot shower and a few shots of Remy Martin, I slept the sleep of the dead. Awaking just before nine o’clock, I’m amazed that once again, I slept in so late. I grab the phone and click to Google to see which gun shops are open. All three shops that are actually in Manhattan don’t open until ten, so that’s kind of a bummer. That’s not going to give us much time to get things worked out before Dad’s haircut. If we miss this window, I’m not sure how we will get to him before the meeting starts on Friday.

“What are all the sighs about?” Devon asks, rolling over to face me. He simply shoves his fingers through his hair and he look great. Life isn’t fair to us women.

“None of the gun shops open until ten.” I lift the covers and shimmy closer to him. “We’re not going to have much time to practice using these things. There are only three gun shops locally, so what are the odds of finding someone who has some experience with tranquilizer guns?”

“I had a tough time falling asleep, so I sent a text to my uncle back in Detroit to see if he knew anything about them.” He clicks to open his Uncle’s reply. “Use a fucking Taser. The one with the electrodes. It’s way more reliable and you’re less likely to kill someone,” he reads aloud.

“Shit, how close do we have to be for those to work?” I ask, knowing that we’re talking close-range shit.

“Fifteen feet.” The look on his face says that he agrees that it’s going to be tough to get close enough. “But my uncle is right. You need to know a lot about dosing to get tranquilizers right. Too little and it doesn’t stop them from shooting you. Too much and you can easily kill them. Even if you get it right, it can take a minute or two to take effect, and those guys can do a lot of damage in that amount of time.”

“Fifteen feet, though . . . that’s really close.” If those bodyguards attack us, that’s only five or six strides away. I like the idea of being able to take them out at twenty or thirty meters. “Maybe we could use weaker tranquilizers and have the Tasers for a backup.”

“I’d rather use the Tasers and have my trusty 357 for backup. Too bad I left it back at the club,” he says sarcastically. “I’m going to order us some breakfast, and then we’ll call all three gun shops and see where it goes. The quiche looks good. Do you want coffee or orange juice with it?”

“Juice is fine. I’ll grab a coffee on the way out,” I tell him while picking up my phone to do some basic research. I type in the words New York and Taser to begin my search while he orders our food. “The gun dealers aren’t going to be much help,” I inform him as soon as he hangs up with the concierge. “Tasers are illegal to sell to the public and illegal to possess in the state of New York.” I show him the page on my phone containing the penal code. “So, I guess we’re back to using tranquilizer guns. Worst case, I guess I could approach him while he’s in the barber chair and hit him with the poison Grandpa gave us.” I pull the vial of neurotoxin from my purse and roll it between my fingers.

“He would probably be stunned for a few seconds, since he thinks we’re dead,” Devon says, caressing the back of my neck. “We definitely have that going for us.”

“Yeah, I know Grandpa won’t let him know that we weren’t on the plane.” I think back to the long-standing feud between the two men.

“It’s hard to believe that only a few of these innocent-looking crystals can be so potent.” I rotate the vial, causing the crystals to tumble freely. “It’s too bad Dad doesn’t do coke. That would make it easy. I don’t think anyone could tell the difference.”

“Hasn’t he ever done coke?” Devon asks curiously.

“I’ve never seen him do it. But who knows back in the seventies and eighties.” I set down the vial of white powder and fish the pink one out of my purse. “I wonder if I’m overlooking a way to get close enough to Dad to safely use this stuff?” It would be sort of fun for Dad to think I poisoned him, especially after blowing up our plane. It still feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach again every time I think about it. After we gain control of The Syndicate, I certainly hope I won’t have to deal with him on a regular basis. The sickening feeling inside me continues to grow the more I think about him. He’s never been a good husband or father, but I never thought he would intentionally hurt me.

Devon slips on a bathrobe and hands the other one to me. “You should probably have something on when room service arrives.” He winks and gives me that sexy smirk of his. If anything can make me forget my problems, it’s this man.

“Every time I’m alone with you, I want to have sex,” I admit, standing up and pulling on the robe. “I feel like a teenager who can’t control my urges.”

“Well, who can blame you?” He shrugs, pulling back the lapels of his robe to flash his killer abs and chest.

“Actually, this part is the most amazing.” I grab his robe below the waistline and jerk it open, revealing the beginnings of another erection. “What did you call him again? Old Duke?” I laugh at the thought of him naming his cock after John Wayne. “You listen here, pilgrim,” I say, using my best John Wayne accent and taking Old Duke in my hand.

There’s a sudden knock on the door. “Saved by room service,” he quips, retying his robe. “Jesus, look what you did.” He looks down at the bulging appendage as he makes his way to the door. He mumbles something under his breath while unlocking the door and pulling it open.

“Back away from the door!” someone yells. It’s a voice that I would recognize anywhere as belonging to Jared, one of my dad’s long-time bodyguards. “Keep your hands up and back up against the wall,” he says as Devon comes back into view. “She’s here, Boss!” He yells over his right shoulder after we make eye contact.

“What the hell is going on?” I yell back at him. “Did Dad figure out that he didn’t kill us yesterday, so you’re all here to finish the job?” I glare at Jared, knowing that it’s useless to try to fight them at this point. I reach over to the nightstand and grab the vial of white powder. I’ll keep it as a last resort.

“You gave me a scare yesterday,” Dad says as he casually walks through the door in his black pinstriped suit and matching tie. It’s the same outfit that he’s worn for as long as I can remember. “I thought you two were dead until we got a ping off your phone out at Newark,” he adds, glancing over at Devon. “You two scared the shit out of me!”

“We scared the shit out of you?” Tears burst from my eyes as soon as we make eye contact. “You tried to kill us!” I shake my head in disbelief. How can he waltz in here and expect me to believe that he had nothing to do with it?

“He did not try to kill you!” Jared says with an incredulous gasp. “We saw that you were both checked in on that flight, so we really thought you were dead.”

“Because Dad blew up the plane!” I yell at both of them. “How would you know we were both checked in if you weren’t tracking our flights?”

“Jared, put away the gun,” Dad says, giving him a stern look. “You and the others go wait outside. Take this guy with you. I need to talk privately with my daughter.” Everyone remains silent as Jared holsters his weapon inside his jacket and exits the room with Devon and the other two bodyguards. Dad takes a few steps toward the window, shaking his head. “Why would you think I blew up that plane?”

“Because you sent me an apology,” I hiss, still feeling raw from the whole ordeal. “Just like you apologized to Mom the day before she died.” I can’t understand where all of these tears keep coming from. I grab a handful of tissues and wipe them from my face. “When I told Grandpa that you apologized, he agreed that it wasn’t a good omen.”

“Your grandfather wouldn’t recognize a good omen if it smacked him upside the head,” Dad replies, coming toward me. “He still thinks I killed your mother.”

“Stop right there,” I warn him, gripping the vial of neurotoxin between my fingers. “Just stay where you are. I don’t trust you.”

“What is that?” he asks with a disconcerted look. “Something Antonio gave you? Did he tell you that you could use it to get me to change my mind?”

“Something like that. Just stay away and I won’t open it,” I warn him again.

Dad lets out a long breath and slumps into a chair in the corner of the room. “You know that your mother and I had an arranged marriage, right?”

“Yeah, he explained it all. I was surprised that you were the one who insisted on her coming back here with you,” I blurt out, repeating what Grandpa had said. “Why would you do that if you didn’t even love her?”

Dad tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. After a long moment, he locked his eyes on mine. “Because she begged me to.”

“She what? Why?” That doesn’t make any sense.

“At that time, there were no opportunities for her in Colombia,” he explains. “Women like her were pretty much forced to live at home until they got married, and when I met her, she was desperate to get out of there.” He pauses, obviously reflecting on those times. “Since I wanted to do business with Antonio, it made sense for us to have an arranged marriage. We both agreed that it was a business arrangement, but on our wedding night, it all changed. We both got caught up in the moment, had too much champagne, and that night . . . you were conceived.” He stands up and turns, facing the window. “I couldn’t fucking believe it. I felt like your mother had trapped me.”

“Trapped you? Why would you say that?” I ask, not understanding why it would be her fault.

“Because she told me she was on birth control. That she couldn’t get pregnant,” he informs me with a wave of his hand. “I should’ve known better, but I fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Your mother was a beautiful woman and she was very persuasive, but I never loved her in that way.”

“And yet, you were stuck with her . . . as well as me.” I feel another stabbing feeling within my chest at the thought of being an unwanted child. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Actually, you were the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, turning from the window and approaching me. I know I shouldn’t trust him, but I allow him to take the vial of toxin from my fingertips and slip it into his pocket. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve just left her, but I instantly fell in love with my little girl.” He wraps his arms around me and gives me a hug. It’s something he hasn’t done since my high school graduation. “But there was so much tension between your mother and me. The day before her overdose, I apologized for being so distant and for every way in which I had wronged her.”

“Grandpa told me that she called him that day and was elated that you had apologized,” I reply, wanting him to know that I already knew his side of the story. “That’s why he never believed that she committed suicide.”

Dad swallowed hard before speaking in a softer voice. “I did feel bad for how I had treated her, and I wanted her to know that I was sorry and that I didn’t hate her. But that night, when I stopped home after work, she assumed that now, our marriage was real. That somehow, I had fallen in love with her and we could have this magical life together. Unfortunately, I had to burst her bubble. You can’t force yourself to love someone, even if it would make things easier. When I left the house that night, something told me that she was going to do something crazy, but I just couldn’t get myself to stay.” His eyes become watery, which is something I have never witnessed. “I’m sorry that you were the one who found her. That wasn’t right.”

“No,” I sigh. All the feelings of that moment came rushing back. “I was so young. I’ve never been the same after that.” More tears flood my eyes as if this gaping wound will never heal and these fucking tears will never stop. “Then you became so distant, treating me like one of your business associates or something.”

“It was out of guilt,” he whispers. “I knew how badly you had been hurt and I knew it was my fault, but I didn’t know what I could do to fix it.”

“Men can be so stupid.” I look into his eyes and see a flicker of something. It’s that look that he gets when he senses he’s winning at something. “Are you playing me right now?”

“No, I’m not playing you.” He pulls back and acts as if he’s collecting himself. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because that’s what you do, Dad. You play people all the time.” I suddenly realize that he holds all the cards. He has three armed bodyguards in the hallway and my poison in his pocket. “You said all of that just to disarm me. So now you can turn the business over to Eduardo, the one you actually love, and you can take another shot at getting rid of me.”

“Why would I want to get rid of you?” he asks, looking convincingly frustrated.

“So your only son can take over everything—that’s why,” I fire back, all of my hurt feelings coming to the surface. “Isn’t that what you want? Even though I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me?”

“You’re the only heir to the plantation, and that’s why you can’t take over my position,” he replies emphatically. “There is no way you can run a business like that in Colombia and be here running The Syndicate simultaneously.” He takes hold of my wrists and looks directly into my eyes. “I know your grandfather wants you to control everything, but it’s impossible.”

“That’s why I brought in Devon,” I counter, wanting to hear Dad’s opinion of him.

He pauses for a moment and gives me a knowing smile. “So, you would be happy if he were up here running The Syndicate while you were down there running the plantation?” He glares at me, knowing that if I give him an affirmative response, it will be a lie.

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” I sigh, not knowing what the hell is going to happen next.

“Well, I’ve given it lots of thought. I’m going to bring Devon in here so the three of us can hash this out,” he says, heading for the door. The sternness in his voice tells me that he’s tired of the bullshit and things are going to be settled before any of us can leave the room. Luckily, when he opens the door, I can smell that our breakfast has been delivered. I’m going to need some food to be able to handle all of this.

I would love to believe what he is telling me, but at the same time, I have to remember who I’m dealing with. He’s a master of deception, and he has me in a weakened state of mind. With all of the emotions that are flooding through me, I’m beginning to feel like I’m fourteen all over again.