Café Rouge

Chapter 16: Damsel in Distress (again)

Chapter 16

Despite Lola's insistence that her father stay away, she can't help but hope every time she goes into work that he visits again. Still at the end of each shift she is deeply relieved that he doesn't. Even that one drop-in has meant she feels a lot lighter in her fate. She knows he will be safe doing what she's doing and honestly, it isn't feeling so bad now. Despite still not being able to come and go as she pleases, without a shadow, Carlos has been far more liberal. With the protection of Taylor, he allows her to go within the cities; shopping, salon visiting and even to the library. However those visits are very rare and time-constrained.

Nonetheless harmony between them is maintained, primarily due to the fact his father has not called him in for any 'nocturnal' meetings. The interactions they've had has been contained to over the phone with him updating his father on news of the Moretti's. Surprisingly they're quiet, going about their regular business and news on the grape-vine is they have no quarrel with the Castellano's.

Carlos figures the intercepting of the shipment may therefore be by an external party; a new player maybe or perhaps, just even a lone ranger thinking they can make the big leagues. Either way, he's casting his net further afield in hopes of catching the source of this fishy business.

It's as he's searching for this when there's a phone call. Expecting it to be his father, he's understandably shocked when he finds it to be his brother.

"Marco?"
"Don't sound so shocked," he replies.
"What is it?" responds Carlos, ignoring his brother's act of being offended.
"Do I need to have a reason to call you?"
"Marco," tiredly drawls Carlos, "yes, you never call me without a reason."

They are brothers and though they may act like it sometimes, it nowhere near extends towards to that amount of familiarity and intimacy. Carlos cannot call him more than a blood relation.

"Okay, so maybe I do have a reason, but it's a really good one and you should be glad I'm talking to you first and not Dad."

Carlos perks up in his chair, suddenly coming alert.

"What do you mean 'me first'? I don't have anything to hide from Dad."
"Oh really?" snorts Marco at that last sentence, "what about a certain voluptuous brunette?"
Carlos remains silent allowing Marco to continue.
"You always did have a soft spot for women, and a softer one for this one, right? She's not a girlfriend, Carlos. You remember what happened when you had one of those-"
"Are you really trying to blackmail, me?" icily questions Carlos.
"No. No, of course not, brother. Hey, I like your little play toys, though don't you think it's a little sick how you're messing with their hearts like that?"
"Just tell me whatever it is you called to," states Carlos flatly.

He knows, that perhaps he is the more sadistic of the two, because while Marco may get some twisted kick out of torturing people-it's all physical harm. Carlos on the other hand, gives hope. Not just to himself but also for the people he's involved with. Ultimately, he's failed them though. Not this time. Not with Lola.

"You're being too liberal with her, Carlos. Play 'house' all you want but make sure it's kept private, that way you can claim it as hearsay...This though, Carlos. It's out in the public, there's video evidence-"
"Of what?!" cries Carlos.

He's seen his fair share of incriminating videos from corruption, to indulgence in numerous illegal activities. All of these aren't exactly uncommon and should Carlos participate in them, the worst he'd receive from his father is a sound scolding and the order to ensure the video is not used for blackmail.

"The old man-Beaumont-it defeats the point of keeping him in emotional pain if he's being allowed to see his daughter at her higher salary job."
What? Panic rises in Carlos before the icy cold bucket of betrayal washes over him. Has she serious been seeing her father behind his back? Even after he warned her of the dangerous consequences of that. And now...look where it's getting her.