Page 3 of When Sinners Hate

I pick up my cutlery and take another bite, waiting for his next retort.

“Maybe I underestimated you, Alexia. If you can deliver as you say.”

“Oh, I will. You can bet your life on it. The Cortez family won’t know what’s hit them.”

I pick one of my favourite dresses – a skintight leopard print with lace bust details. It’s closer to a second skin than a dress and will help make an impression. The black Pigalle Louboutin pumps complete the outfit and give me the extra few inches. I never like it when a man can tower over me.

My footsteps punctuate the air as I glide down the staircase. I’m due at the Cortez house in a few hours, but I want to make sure I can have a little heart-to-heart with Melena before anyone else arrives.

Father is waiting at the car, but he doesn’t have an invitation, and I certainly don’t want him there, especially as I want to be on the right side of Melena Cortez. After our conversation last night, I’m hopeful he might actually start seeing the potential in all of this. Time will tell, although there’s a nagging at the back of my mind.

He opens the car door for me. “I’ll ride with you.” I stop and look at him, taking in the father figure he’s been to me all these years.

“No, you won’t. This is on me.” I slide into the car and pull the door shut, ending any further line of questions. “Go!” I summon the driver, and he pulls off down the drive.

The Cortez house certainly is a spectacle. A mansion with white pillars holding century at the front. It’s glorious and puts Nicolas’ house to shame. Security is tight, and we go through two checkpoints before I’m greeted by some staff member. They dismiss my driver, and it’s then that I realise just how far into the lion’s den I’ve strayed.

Oh well.

I take a breath and check my hair.

Better get this show started.

The buttoned-up help leads me through the house and out into the gardens. An older woman smoking a cigarette is sipping a tall glass of something in the shade. She looks smaller than I thought – dainty, perhaps? Her reputation reminds me that I shouldn’t judge her by her looks.

“And you must be Alexia Ortega.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her accent is thick, but as I meet her eyes, I see there’s nothing frail or dainty about her.

“You’d make us a lot of money,” she drawls. Her comment doesn’t strike me as a compliment, but I take it as such and nod my approval. “I’m pleased you chose to come here early. Come.” She beckons me with her hand, waving her polished red nails towards me.

I approach and perch on the seat at the edge of the shade, placing my purse on the wrought iron table.

“Yes, you’ll do. Of course, they’ll break you in. I’ve taught them well, my boys.” She smiles as she takes a drag on her cigarette and blows a stream of smoke towards me.

It’s all a game. A power play. And one that is easy to play. Because her threats and words of warning can’t harm me, nobody can.

“And which of your boys will I be marrying, Melena? Or should I call you Mother?”

She stands and grabs my chin with her hand so fast I’m helpless against her assault. Her bony fingers squeeze against my jaw, and I can feel the throb of pain begin to pulse.

“You’ll watch your mouth with me, girl. Do you hear? You put a foot out of place, and we’ll be more than happy to introduce you to your brother.” She elongates the word, pulling out each syllable.

I grab her wrist with my hand and bend it back, forcing her to free her hold. “I understand. I know my job. Can you say the same about your boys?”

Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think I might be able to understand where she’s coming from. Protecting her family – protecting her business. She’s right to threaten me.

She backs off and goes back to her seat. “We have a family meeting in the lounge. They will all be here, and I’d like you to wait before we introduce you. They know what they are here to do.”

“Wonderful. If you can look to get me a glass of iced tea, maybe, I’ll wait here.” I take my compact out of my purse and check my lipstick and make sure my jaw isn’t bruised from her little stunt.

“Very well.” She gives a little clap, and someone approaches. “Give Miss Ortega anything she wishes. And bring her into the lounge when I give the signal.”

The waitstaff doesn’t say anything, just nods and looks to me.

“Oh, iced tea.” I smile.

Both Melena and the waitstaff disappear, and I shift to sit in the full shade. The heat is so dry it feels like it will burn my throat as I breathe it in.

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