Page 19 of Death

Even with the luxurious island nearby, this villa in Peru will always be my home. I turn my head and look at all the little cottages to my left. Every year, I build ten new cottages to accommodate our growing population, but at the pace I’m saving people, I’m considering constructing apartment buildings.

Currently, I have one hundred and fifty-nine people living on my property. We’ve formed our own little village, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know every single person, and once a week, I’ll walk through the village to check on everyone.

Even though it’s not something I want, they treat me like a god, thankful for everything I do for them.

Some have created jobs from hobbies and have become self-sufficient, but they don’t want to leave, and I would never ask them to. They fear life outside the walls of my compound, and I understand why.

Every person on my property was either a sex slave, forced into prostitution, used as drug mules, or someone who had organs stolen from them before being left to bleed out.

The list of vile acts is endless, and just when I think I’ve seen it all, I discover a new horrific act that leaves me stunned.

Once upon a time, I was a victim just like them.

Since the Alvarez cartel massacred my family, I made it my life’s purpose to dismantle every fucking cartel I come across. Right now, I’m focused on taking down the Rojas cartel, forcing them out of my territory.

It’s been a while since I’ve thought of my family. I was fifteen when Alvarez’s soldiers invaded our house. My father was an accountant for the cartel, but he wanted out, so they decided to silence him.

My older brother was killed first. He was the only one who had a quick death.

My mother was dragged behind a jeep until her body parts were scattered throughout the town we lived in.

I survived because I hid in a trunk where my mother kept the linen. I still have the trunk. It’s one of the few things I was able to salvage after our home was burned to the ground because the damn thing is near indestructible. It took some time, but it’s been restored to its former glory.

Years after the massacre, I tracked down a soldier of the cartel, who told me my father was tortured for months. They amputated one limb at a time and hung the severed limb where my father could see it. Apparently, he lost his mind toward the end.

I did the same thing to the soldier, and that’s where my most lethal tarot card was born. Death.

I shift in the chair and pull the pack of black and gold tarot cards from my pocket. The corners are worn from use, and I brush my thumb over the face. I have doubles of twelve cards. Each one holds a different fate. It’s my way of being fair. I allow the person to choose a card, then I carry out whatever fate it holds. Some give them a chance at freedom, but others range from a quick death to suffering for months.

My grandmother used to read tarot cards. It’s one of the good things I remember from my childhood. People respected her until she passed away from old age.

That’s where my love for tarot cards started. Sure, there are many fake fortune tellers out there, but I know one who’s been blessed with the same gift my grandmother had.

She said she saw me coming when I saved her from being killed because her brother owed the cartel money.

Lorena’s been with me for two years now. Just the other day, she said Maria, one of the other women in the village, is expecting a little girl. She hasn’t been wrong before, so Maria’s preparing for a girl.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly before I pick up the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I take a sip, my gaze returning to the horizon as the sun continues to rise on a new day.

Absentmindedly, I twirl the diamond ring on my pointer finger, and my thoughts turn to the reading Lorena gave me right after she came to stay on the compound.

She said I’m going to live a long life with a woman who’s like the rising sun.

Lately, I’ve had a nagging feeling the woman I’m destined to be with is in grave danger. I’m beginning to think she might be in one of the cartel’s clutches, and it’s made me double down on my efforts to dismantle the organizations. I’ve been playing them against each other, making each of my attacks look like they were done by another cartel. I’m hoping to start a war between them so the fuckers can wipe each other out.

“Morning.”

I glance over my shoulder and watch as Pedro, my second-in-command, walks toward me.

“Morning,” I say while he takes a seat on one of the other lounge chairs.

His eyes touch on the deck of cards in my hand, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Who do you plan on killing?”

I shove my cards into my pocket. “Whoever gets in our way. I want to take down that exclusive sex club in Bolivia this week. Just like I suspected, the shipment of girls we’ve been tracking from Europe went straight to the club.”

“When do you want to leave for Bolivia?”

“First thing tomorrow. Get the private jet, men, and weapons ready.”

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