Page 185 of Plunge into Obsession

My attention moved to the Santa Muerte doll, not dissimilar to the tattoo I had on my biceps.

The Catholic church rejected Santa Muerte, but that didn’t lessen her popularity or the number of her followers.

I grew up in a Catholic home.

A fucking irony, considering our family business. But I remembered dressing up every Sunday and attending church with my family as if it wasn’t sacrilegious for us to do so.

I didn’t learn about Santa Muerte in the church but instead from the men under my father. She was considered too grotesque… too satanic.

Perhaps so.

A personification of death herself.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“What if we’re looking at this wrong?” I said.

“What do you mean?” Raphael asked.

I reached over and grabbed the doll by its arm, holding it up and taking in the skeletal face. The doll was smiling.

“The Grim Reaper is depicted as male only in a couple of cultures. But in Mexico?” I held up the doll higher. “Santa Muerte is our Grim Reaper, is she not?”

Raphael didn’t say anything for a moment. “Are you seriously suggesting that—”

I nodded. “Yes.”

I had no evidence to go on. Call it a gut feeling, but something told me I was right about this.

Still, I stopped myself from getting ahead. I took in Raphael calmly. “The Grim Reaper, Ivan Antonov’s supplier, could be a woman.”

* * *

I rubbedmy eyes and looked at the clock.

It was a little after noon, and there was still so much shit that needed to be done.

The morning had consisted of getting in contact with the East Coast Bratva and putting together a plan.

I’d told Bianca I would be home soon, but fuck—when was soon?

All I wanted to do was get home and lose myself inside her.

Raphael was talking to Bianchi on the phone when my phone beeped with a notification.

I took it out and looked at the screen, my brow furrowing.

What the fuck was happening?

The safe I had in my office was set to notify me when it was opened, and the only person who knew the code to get in was Bianca.

I had told her the money in there was for her to take should something happen and she needed to make a quick escape, so unless something was going on at my home, there wasn’t a reason she should be in the safe.

Unless she was trying to run away from me.

My grip tightened on my phone at the thought and I pulled up the camera feed in my office.

I could see my wife, but she wasn’t alone.

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