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ENRIQUE VILLAREAL SLAMMED his palms on the mahogany desk, growling out the name of his oldest daughter, the sound bellowing throughout the downstairs of the home. He poured himself a stiff drink as he awaited her arrival, angrier than he’d been in years, failing to understand the incompetence of those who surrounded him. She had one assignment, yet what he needed, she still had failed to accomplish.
Irena arrived in their father’s study, shuddering in fear. The call to his office was one of dread which neither she nor any member of her family looked forward to experiencing. The office of the Water Cobra had become a place of punishment for those who disappointed her father. She had made his list and entered the door, shaking in terror.
Chin up, she answered, “Yes Papa, you called for me?”
“Irena, have you managed to get young Delgado into your bed?” he asked, not bothering to soften the blow of the request.
“Papa, honestly, I have tried to entice him, but he will not touch me in that way. He wishes to wait until our wedding night,” Irena said softly.
“I thought you forced his hand to remove the woman he was seeing?” Enrique said.
“Sí, Papa, I did,” she said, “I thought after several weeks of not seeing her, he would be hot and heavy for a release. Ela even tried. He must have found another.”
Enrique’s face reddened in disgust. She had the simplest portion of the plan, yet could not deliver the goods. It had taken years of manipulation and maneuverings to get Eduardo Delgado’s trust. To this day, the man still did not trust him, a matter which infuriated Enrique far more than his daughter’s lack of prowess in luring a man between her legs that he had fought to arrange an engagement to a Delgado son.
“Or you have no skills in seduction,” he said, growling at her. His eyes were red with hatred. “I worked for years to broker that contract. All you have to do is get him to consummate the relationship before the end of the 18 months, which will move the wedding date up. Once you are married, the families are united and Eduardo Delgado will have to think hard about striking against me.”
“Papa, if it is a chance for peace, can we not break it? I agreed to marry the Delgado, and he is not a bad looking sort, but I don’t think he likes me,” Irena pleaded.
Her pleas fell on deaf ears as her father removed the riding crop from his desk. She knew the drill. Irena walked to his desk, her delicate fingers gripped the edge of the wood, preparing her backside for the impact of the leather. It was his favorite means of punishment, to strike where the damage could not be seen. She closed her eyes, waiting for the blows.
“I cannot strike you and leave a mark,” Enrique said, “especially if young Delgado shall see your backside soon. It must be soon, Irena. Get him to your bed. Consummate the relationship loudly so others may hear you in the act. Can you do this, Irena?”
“Yes, Papa. I can do this,” she said, lowering her head in shame.
“Call him now and let him know to expect you at Las Tierras this week. You don’t have your womanly time yet, so make this happen, Irena,” her father commanded.
“Yes Papa. I will not fail you,” she replied, leaving his office while holding back the tears.
“See that you don’t. You know what happens to people who disappoint me,” Enrique said.
Irena left the room. She’d been in this predicament twice before when her father had tried to marry her off to men who made her skin crawl. Pain reverberated in her heart thinking of her two younger sisters who would share the same fate. At least this selection she could stomach, but her fiancé also knew there was something wicked in the pot of soup. Hearing about him hurting Tito Montoya gave her pride in the man and led to one conclusion. Yuñior Delgado wasn’t a man to cross.
She prayed her fate would not be the same as Tito’s in case she failed. “I will not fail,” she said, holding her chin up in defiance.
****
THE SOUND OF THE RINGING tones of Yuńior’s phone jolted him awake. He fumbled around on the nightstand to locate the irritating device which had pulled him from a peaceful rest, slapping at the wooden side table to retrieve the cell. He comprehended too late the phone had remained in the other room. Sitting up in the bed, he reached for the covers and realized he had slept in the nude, something which he never did which prevented his ability to rise quickly in case of emergencies.
Diadra came through the bedroom door, carrying Yuńior’s cellular. Irena’s face was on the screen. She handed the phone to him, saying nothing, her face lacking expression. She left the room to provide privacy for the call, closing the door behind her.
Yuñior slid his finger across the device to take the call. “Good morning, Irena,” he said, trying to temper his voice.
“Buen Dia, handsome,” she said. “I am missing you and desire to see you. My father said I may have the use of his plane. I shall be there by six.”
“I’m not there,” he said.
“Are you with her?”
“I’m not in Colombia,” he replied. “Lunes. I shall return on Monday.”
“Oh, pooh,” she mewled into the phone, “so I guess I have to wait until Monday, or I can join you now, wherever you are.”
“Not advisable,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Lo siento, you must be working. I’m sorry, I should have asked if this was a good time to talk. Yuñior, I’m just so overwhelmed with all of these feelings I have for you that it seems to be getting in the way of my better judgment,” she fawned into the line.
“I look forward to seeing you on Monday,” he said. “Enjoy your weekend.”
“Stay out of trouble,” Irena cautioned.
“Trouble is my middle name.”
“I thought it was Benicio,” she replied, giggling in the line.
“Good day to you, Irena,” he said, ending the call, sitting in the bed, and staring at the door. The last thing he wanted to do today was get in a fight with Diadra, having to explain the woman on the screen. He questioned how a man could have a wife and a lover and not go insane. His heart was racing, fearing Diadra may get through the weekend and tell him she never wanted to see him again, or worse, make him leave now. Sighing deeply, he located the underwear he threw to the side in his haste to have Diadra; sliding the cotton boxers onto his body while preparing to face the tongue lashing.
He found her in the living room, sitting on the couch on a call of her own. Diadra pointed at the kitchen, making him turn to see the bag of coffee he had brought in his messenger bag sitting by the pot of freshly brewed coffee. A mug sat beside a small sugar dispenser with a spoon. Yuñior poured himself a cup and joined her on the couch.
“No, I completely forgot about that, Jules, and my man is here,” Diadra said in the line, winking at Yuñior. “I don’t know if he wants to do karaoke or not. Fine. I’ll ask him.”
Diadra looked at Yuñior with wide eyes. “I forgot tonight is dinner with my friends, and we’re doing karaoke. Jules wants to know if you’re interested in joining us?”
Yuñior’s facial expression did not change when he inquired, “Is this a thing you enjoy?”
“Yeah, I can’t sing though. I just go to listen to my friends,” she said, holding the phone.
“Then we shall attend,” he said, sipping the coffee.
“We’ll see you guys there. Yes, love you too,” she replied hanging up the phone, looking at Yuñior. “You don’t have to sing or anything. Normally we order drinks, wings, and fries, and enjoy the amateur hour.”
“Sounds like fun,” he told her, knowing it would be one of those things where at the end of the night, the idea of killing someone would make him feel better.
“Oh shoot! Do you have an ID? American nightclubs card you to make sure no one under 21 enters the bar?”
“I have an ID which will get me into the club,” he said, looking at her. “Out of curiosity, do you have a passport?”
“No, I don’t. Each time I say I’m going to get one, silly stuff like my electric bill or phone bill gets in the way, but now that I have a better paying job, I can finally get one,” Diadra offered with a smile.
“How long will it take to acquire this passport?”
“Uhmm, rush jobs can be done more quickly, but usually, about 45 days or so,” she said. “Why? You whisking me off for a romantic night in Versailles?”
“A hot beach in Central America is about the best I can do,” he said. “Would that be satisfactory?”
“A beach sounds good,” she said, looking at him head-on.
He sat, waiting for the questions on the call. Diadra offered nothing, which unnerved Yuñior. Everything in him said to change the subject, but he had to conceal enough from her. He had concealed matters from Melissa, but it was wise to do so in her case. Diadra needed to have a working knowledge of the full situation.
“Her name is Irena,” he said, “and in sixteen months we are to marry.”
“You sound very excited about the future of your relationship with this Irena,” Diadra said watching his face.
“She is my duty for the future of my family. You are my choice for happiness now,” he said, sitting comfortably in the chair.
“The marriage is arranged?”
“Yes.”
“She’s pretty,” Diadra said, “and you’re not tapping that?”
“Explain this tapping.”
“You aren’t having sex with her and taking advantage of Irena wearing your ring? You know sampling the product before the wedding? If you did, she would make certain you couldn’t back out of the deal,” Diadra said.
Yuñior sat up straight in the chair. His mouth dropped open as he gawked at her with a look of amazement plastered to his face. It would explain Irena’s attempts to seduce him, which meant the tactic was a diversion. Tito was up to no good and he was here. Torn between heading home and singing in a club with Diadra, he wouldn’t make it back in time to stop something that was already in progress. He could, however, put a monkey wrench in the workings.
“Excuse me,” he said, going to collect his phone and call Andres. If Enrique Villareal wanted to test him, the man would soon find that he was far cleverer than expected. To make it even more delicious, he had a solid alibi for not being in either country when the theft took place.
Yuñior called Andres and made a simple request. His brother, laughing on the other end and glad to lend a hand in the shenanigans, ended the call in uproarious joy. Satisfied, Yuñior returned to the living room with a coy smile on his face.
“Your expression is causing me some concern,” Diadra said, “but I don’t want to know.”
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“Not being that woman,” Yuñior said.
“Why would I? You said you wanted to be here and that you chose me. I agreed, knowing the timeline. Irena? Is that her name? She’s your duty to marry in sixteen months, but I’m your calm,” Diadra said.
“You are handling this so well,” Yuñior replied, “which frightens me.”
“Does Irena know about me?”
Yuñior ran his hand through the thick black hair. “She does not know you by name or location, however, I have made her aware that you exist. I disclosed with the understanding you and I will end when I take my vows of marriage,” he said, waiting for the screaming to start.
“Ed, I don’t curse or at least try not to in most situations. This is possibly the most honest and yet fucked up thing I’ve ever gone through. Again, I’m stupid or either desperate, but you’re honest with me and that says a lot,” she told him.
“You are causing me much confusion.”
“Honey, there ain’t nothing to be confused about,” Diadra confessed. “My last boyfriend said and did all the right things and turns out he was married. The one before that got busted in the club for dealing drugs. The one before him, well that relationship never got past the second date. That idiot, Wilmer, took me to his favorite restaurant which also happened to be the favorite restaurant of his girlfriend who physically pulled down her pants and showed her ass. So this is manageable. I don’t have to see you every day or every week. I get hot sex once a month and good company, with no strings. It works for me while I build up my career.”
“For some odd reason, this confession makes me feel...how do you say, used,” Yuñior told her.
“If so, then we are using each other. You get to hide away from your world and I assume your clingy fiancée, and I get to reap the benefits of fueling you up with, did I mention hot sex, until you walk down the aisle. Hell, at the end of this, Irena may send me a thank you note on your wedding night,” Diadra said, chuckling.
Ed picked up his phone, ready to place a call.
“Who are you calling?”
“My father,” he said, “I wish to know the rules in my country of having two wives.”
Diadra laughed, holding up her hands. “Doesn’t work for me. I’m Catholic. There is no polygamy in Catholicism, but a good try,” she added. “Go get showered and dressed. Wear comfortable walking shoes. There is a street fair today, and I get to buy you lunch.”
“Lunch? What about breakfast?” he said, looking over at the clock which read a quarter until noon. “Why did you allow me to sleep so late?”
“I figured you must have needed it, so I let you rest,” she told him.
“I like you.”
“I like you too, Ed. Now go wash that sexy ass,” she said, winking at him.
“Certainly. Will you come to scrub my back?” Yuñior asked, giving a come-get-some smile. Diadra got to her feet, leading the way down the hall and knowing that after the sudsy interaction, he was simply going to get her sweaty again.
****
ANDRÉS DELGADO WAS no idiot. Far from it, in his handling men of questionable moral character who befriended him just to get an in with his father. He collected the men like trophies, keeping a database of them and where they worked and lived. Several of the men worked for Tito Montoya, doing the clean jobs—drivers, operators, and food staff.
Unlike his brother, he saw the men as workers who wanted money to support their families. More than anything, these men craved status. Working for a Delgado meant status. He punched in the number to one Hervé, who had recently suffered the wrath of disappointing Tito. The punishment, far more severe to the infraction, left good ole Hervé with a score to settle. Andres planned to help the injured man do just that. It wouldn’t take much to shore up the resolve in gaining vengeance and Yuñior’s plan would be poetic.
“Hola, Herve,” Andres said softly. “It is time to make a move.”
