Page 24 of Dom 3
I put my hand to my mouth, pressing hard to stop the sound that almost came out. The pain crept up my throat until I could barely breathe. “Listen,” Marisol continued, sounding muchfirmer now. “You need to come home. They’re already preparing the funeral. The lawyers have been calling for you already.”
“Lawyers?” I repeated what she said wondering why any lawyers would be looking for me.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s about the inheritance. Everything he owned from the houses, the cars, the accounts, the business all of it is in your name now. He left it all to you, Victoria… every single thing.”
I froze as my mind blanked out. I gripped the counter to keep from falling. “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” she said softly. “This has always been the way since you were a baby. He said even if he disowned you, the blood still ran through you. He had no sons, no heirs. The cartel is yours now.”
My heart started pounding so fast it hurt. me “No,” I whispered. “I can’t take that. I don’t want any of it. You know what that life did to me.”
“I know,” she said gently, “but it’s yours whether you want it or not. The men are already talking, waiting for your word. You don’t have to stay, but you have to come back, pay your respects, and handle what’s yours.”
“I can’t go back there,” I quickly replied trying to control my breathing. “Not to that world and not after everything he put me through.”
“Mija,” she sighed, “he may have been many things, but he loved you. You were the only one who could stand in his shadow and not dare flinch. That’s why he left it to you. He wanted his blood to keep the crown.”
My vision started to feel blurry, and I felt panic attack threatening me as the room started spinning. “Marisol, stop! Please. I can’t…”
“Listen to me,” she interrupted, suddenly sounding firm. “If you don’t step up, someone else will and they won’t protectwhat’s left of us. You don’t have to rule it, but you have to show face. You owe him that much.”
“I don’t owe him anything,” I said through clenched teeth, with the tears falling again.
“Then do it for yourself,” she hissed. “To close it right. You can’t hide from your blood forever.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling hard and then exhaled. Every nerve in my body was on fire. I wanted to hang up, but I couldn’t move.
“Victoria?!” she said again with her voice now elevated.
“I’ll think about it,” I whispered. “That’s all I can say right now. I’ll think about it.”
There was a long pause and then she said her final words. “I’ll let you know when the funeral is. If you’re coming, I’ll send for you.”
She ended the call, and I stared at the phone in my hand until the screen went black. My anxiety was through the roof. It felt like my chest was caving in, and the walls were closing in on me. I pressed my hand over my heart, breathing deeply trying to calm down. Everything he owned, everything I tried to run from, all of it was mine now… and I didn’t know if that meant I was finally free or just trapped all over again.
The air inside my condo felt so different now, filled with the smell of wet air, and sautéed garlic that would probably sit on the stove the rest of the night along with the other food because I no longer wanted it. I was trying to ignore the burning in my throat feeling like the vomit would come up any second, I just kept pushing it back down. I’d gone from singing songs to sitting in silence with my legs folded underneath me, my notebook open on the table, and my pen between my fingers.
The TV was still black, but I didn’t need to turn it back on so it could keep telling me what I already knew. If El Blanca died in Miami, the Royals did it. If he was executed, Dom did it andthat wasn’t a rumor, that was a fact. I’d seen his kind of precision before. He was swift, strategic, and merciless. He wasn’t afraid to die and that’s what made him more dangerous. There wasn’t a man in this city with that level of control with soldiers just as ruthless.
I should’ve hated him for it. I should’ve thrown the damn glass across the room and called him screaming and cursing but I couldn’t. My heart didn’t understand the same rules my mind lived by. My heart remembered what it felt like when he saved me from my old life, or how good he tasted when his penis was in my mouth. He didn’t accept me, but he changed the dynamics.
I took another sip, slower this time. The whiskey did burn, but it wasn’t anything compared to the ache I felt in my soul. The rain finally slowed up and was landing soft against the windows. I pulled my notebook closer to my chest. It was the same black leather one I’d had since before coming to Miami, filled with everything I couldn’t say out loud. I opened to a blank page, wiped a tear before it hit the paper, and started writing.
He killed the man who raised me, and I don’t know how to feel about it.I set the pen down and just stared at the words. They looked too small for how big this situation was. I leaned back and closed my eyes causing the memories to come without warning. I thought about back home in the courtyard where my uncle used to sit in his chair with a cigar in one hand and his gold cross shining against the sun. I remembered being little and playing with marbles on the cracked concrete, with his voice in the background telling someone to “aim for the head, never the chest.” I remembered the smell of rum, the sounds of laughter, and the danger that was always around but hardly anywhere near me.
He’d taught me how to protect myself before I even learned to love myself. He’d taught me fear, but he’d also taught me loyalty. That’s what made this hurt worse that the man who’dmade me unbreakable was the man who also tried to break me and was now a body in a morgue with holes in him. While the man I loved, who didn’t love me back was the reason why. The candlelight flickered harder as thunder roared outside. I opened my eyes again blinking away tears that wouldn’t stop as my reflection stared back at me from the window. My wild eyes were red and glossy, and my face showed the kind of sadness that couldn’t be hidden in this moment even if I tried. It was too fresh, and I deserved to be able to go through and feel the emotions without suppression.
“You really did it, didn’t you?” I whispered aloud as if Dom was standing right in front of me. “You finally killed him.”
The sound of my own talking to myself caused me to laugh a deranged one before grabbing the bottle again. I didn’t bother with the glass this time. The whiskey hit hard, numbing me, causing that warmth throughout my body. At the moment it just helped to dull things. I sat back on the couch with my notebook still open in front of me. I picked the pen back up and rubbed some ink that had smeared on my thumb so I wouldn’t mess up the paper.
The words were blurry as I kept writing through tears.They’ll never understand. Not Dom, not Tone, not O’Shynn. If they see me cry for him, they’ll think I’m still one of them. They’ll question me, watch me, strip me down to nothing again. I can’t give them that.I stopped, breathing so hard and controlled it but my hand was still shaking. I pressed the pen to the paper and began writing again.But it hurts. God, it hurts.
By the time I was done, the sky was even darker, and I sat there in the half dark, drunk and trembling, staring at the city I thought had saved me. It was calm outside now because nobody wanted to be caught in the rain. Those were the best times to be put up behind closed doors relaxing, which is what I should’ve been doing.
I poured another drink and sank deeper into the couch. The liquor loosened me up but still felt tight in my chest, my heart was broken. I looked at the phone on the table, and I knew I couldn’t call Dom, at least not tonight and not like this. I knew he wouldn’t apologize. I knew if he saw me crying over El Blanca, he’d look at me differently. So, I stayed quiet. I sat there in the half-lit living room, drinking, and watching the reflection of the rain on the windows and wondering how you grieve a monster who made you one. Everyone thought I was some type of princess because I allowed them to think that, but the reality was, El Blanca taught me how to be dangerous, ruthless, and a monster… it was me who chose to live the softer way.
I whispered his name once, just to feel it. “El Blanca.” My voice cracked and then I whispered. “Dom.” I don’t know why, but probably because they were the only two men I loved.
