Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
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Lime green portière dangle over the windows. Bright yellow, red, orange flowers rest on the white podiums around the coffin. A white cushion coffin holds Abel Juarez, an associate of our family, for over a hundred years. His family handles the distribution of our narcotics, or they did. After my brother's death, more than half of our associates swerve the spotlight by shifting over to work with our enemies.
We didn't blame the families for leaving us in the dust. Everyone has the animal instincts to protect their family than their friends. Our ex-associates fates still lay open in the universe as my family and I keep disagreeing on the matter.
Abel Juarez has been butchered at the young age of thirty-two, barely stepping foot into the world. His wife weeps, gripping onto their baby girl too young to comprehend her father's death. The priest begins his exhausting monologue that could put any human being to sleep in seconds.
Mateo cranes his head, cocking it in the direction of the empty living room. I kiss my Ma on her cheek before following the group of vultures to the den. My second in command, Mateo waits, until everyone step foot into the room.
Dirty blonde ruffle coils bounce as Limon steps in through the doorway. Pancho rakes a hand through his bronze greased hair as he pokes his body into the room. Finally, Gato is the last to arrive with a tres leches cake in his hands.
"How did you get food already?" Mateo asks, his eyebrows pulling together in disgust.
"Un chico guapo siempre consigue lo que quiere," Gato replies, his mouth stuffed with cake.
(A good-looking guy always gets what he wants.)
Limon shakes his head and simpers. "Erens tan guapo como el dedo de mi padre."
(You're as handsome as my father's toe.)
Gato sneers with gritted teeth, squeezing a piece of cake in his fingertips before throwing it at Limon. "That's why my cock was so deep in your sister's pussy last night."
Limon's eyes darken with anger at the mention of his younger sister. With a deep scowl engrave on his face, he wipes the cake from his embroidered art silk tuxedo. Irritation is spewing from his body like a steamy, warm shower. If it isn't for being at a funeral, Limon would've ripped his head off for even thinking of his little sister.
Gato cracks a smile. "What? You are going to stay quiet now?"
Pacho uncuffs his sleeves, a tight-lip grin stretching across his face as he glares at Gato. To Gato's surprise, Pacho grabs him by the neck, limiting his circulation from the tight grip.
"Tener algunos modales," Pacho seethes, emphasizing his words enough to get spit on Gato's cheek. "We're at a funeral, so cut this shit out."
(Have some manners.)
Once released, Gato coughs, spitting a glob of cake from his throat onto the floor. My face scrunches up in disgust. Prison might've been the best place for him, but I needed an army. He's the ruthless motherfucker I've ever met, and on this journey, I wanted to take my family down. I would need someone like him.
