Page 25 of Empire of Carnage
Celia
To be queen I needed more than just a throne, I needed an empire. Which meant I desperately needed people I could trust. As of right now that list was small. I required more men, my father’s men, more importantly. The ones that went into hiding when my tío betrayed my papá.
The metal chest we’d dug up in the desert contained the Ortíz ledger along with millions of dollars in gold and diamonds. Blood money certainly, but my hands were far from clean. I could play differently, but I couldn’t change the game. My skin was thick, I was primed for this.
If I had any uncertainties about it, then I should have passed the torch to Carolina.
We’d been settled into Guadalajara long enough now that I’d made contact with a damn good lawyer and paid him everything it took to get Celia Flores out of her grave and back in tip top health. Apparently not such a difficult task. I’d also found out that since I was the only living heir of the Flores and Ortíz families, that I was filthy fucking rich.
Like puta madre rich.
César didn’t want my money.
Apparently hewastoo good for my blood money. A laughable thought if you took into consideration that he ran a one percent biker gang.
Club. Whatever. Los Diablos Locos weren’t to be fucked with, and I was happy to be making allies this early in the game.
I’d procrastinated long enough. We’d been here for weeks and for the most part we had healed. It was time to see who’d stand at my side. Time to see who’d give me a chance to prove myself to be better than both the men who came before me.
The Ortíz ledger was thicker than my thighs. An old leather cover sealed the documents, but the binding was four metal rings, allowing the holder to add to it over time. This is what secured the cártel for the Ortíz family long ago, and this is what my papá gained by marrying my mamá. She was an Ortíz, and everything I’d known about how the Flores family took control was a lie. She was a pawn, as women often were, moved across the board to further the interest of men.
Weak.
Diego was the oldest, but he died before I’d ever been born. Which meant there was a good chance my abuelo arranged to marry my mamá off to the Flores family as his only option for not losing everything upon the death of his line.
As if women ruling was so out of the question.
Their errors would be my gain.
Now I had all of the Ortíz money, the Flores name, and my papá’s cojones hanging from my legs. And that ledger, I had that ledger, and it was probably my most powerful weapon.
The cártel was successful because it was a well-oiled machine built on lies, secrets and the never ending struggle for control turning the gears day by day to function. Every blackmail, every dirty skeleton in a closet, every confidential piece of information that might only be privy to the military? It was in that ledger.
It was why my tío wasn’t able to make nice with the politicians down here. He had nothing on them. This ledger had generations of crimes with statute of limitations that didn’t run out. One secret outed, and that family’s name would be tarnished for good.
I had a lot of stops to make, but I was starting with papá’s arms dealer.
“Celia. This is a surprise. I had heard rumors but…”
“Yes, quite a surprise, I’m sure.” I walked right into his kitchen. It was about the size of Mateo’s closet. Tiles were missing from the floor where dirt rested in its place instead. The walls were concrete and stained, and a simple calendar was nailed to the wall above the tiny old oven. Time had not been kind to the Riveras, or maybe it was my uncle.
Dominico’s daughter, Gabriella, stood just past the hallway, she must have been in her early twenties now. I vaguely remembered her as a baby when I was just a young girl. She had blonde hair, and her eyes were blue even though both her parents had dark hair and dark eyes.
I pulled out a wooden chair and sat down, gesturing to both of them with my hand to sit. They made their way across the table from me. Dominico looked behind me, eyeing the men directly on my six, guarding my back. I chuckled. “Don’t worry Dom, they’re harmless, unless you give them a reason to shoot. Sit, let’s talk like old friends.”
“Like old friends?” He raised an eyebrow up.
They both took a seat. Gabriella looked at me from underneath her eyelashes as she kept her head tucked down. I didn’t mean to be intimidating, I just knew that acting like the biggest fish in the room was the only thing that actually made it true.
“I’m going to cut the pleasantries. I’m here to tell you I’ve come into possession of Rafa’s ledger, the Ortíz ledger. I am not here to offer you the option of death or generations of indentured servitude to me. I am not my papá. I am better than him, and I intend tobebetter than him. I will not blackmail you into my corner.”
“What is it you offer then, if not blood?” He looked into my eyes, his wrinkling hands fell heavy on the table. He must have been in his late sixties now. In his prime he was a feared and respected officer in my papá’sarmy. Not to say he couldn’t be feared now, but I’m sure he was a much easier kill these days then back then.
But he had all the knowledge and connections I lacked.
“What my papá didn’t give you, a choice.” With my words he looked to his daughter and squeezed her hand. “If you stick with me, I will provide for you better than Rafa ever could. You will feel my protection twice over and my loyalty. My papá ruled through fear, I plan to rule by earning your respect. If you decide not to back me, I won’t press you, I won’t come back for you, and I won’t kill you. I will leave you and all of your descendants to live or die in peace.” I looked at Gabriella and tilted my chin down at her in recognition.
“That simple?” He eyed me suspiciously.
