“He’s old, and his ways show it,” Jorge snapped. “What is he going to do at his age? Step back—that is his only option, now. To step back and see my way is the better way. And if we have to tear apart the García cartel when this is all said and done to finish it, then so be it.”
“You don’t understand the issue with that at all, do you?”
“No, I don’t understand your issues.”
“They are the same things!”
Jorge’s annoyance came out in a dark grunt. The sound told Valeria that Samuel was walking a thin line with Jorge’s patience. A dangerous thing, no matter which way someone tried to spin it.
Mostly, she tried to stay out of her husband’s way when he was in this kind of mood. Come to think of it, he had been like this for the last week. Ever since they returned to the ranch from the vacation home. She had seen little of Chris throughout the week, other than his occasional walk around the property.
Here, Jorge sheltered her.
It made things hard.
“This is done,” Jorge hissed to his brother, “and nothing you say to sway my decisions will work, so quit before it becomes an annoyance I will have to deal with, Samuel. Do you hear me? Stop.”
“I’m only trying to make you look at the bigger picture. All you see is what you want, but not what will happen because of it, or who will suffer for it, Jorge.”
“I’m done discussing this. The deal with the Canadians will be completed soon. Once it is, and we have the full supply control or all of Canada, we won’t need Papá, or his fucking deal with the Garcías to merge our organizations. And with that much territory behind our name, it won’t matter what the García cartel tries to do to us—it won’t leave a dent.”
“How soon until it’s finalized?”
“Chris will leave by mid-week, or that’s what he explained,” Jorge replied, “so I assume before then.”
What?
Valeria’s heart stopped.
Chris was leaving?
That soon?
Within a couple of days?
Maybe less?
What did that mean for her? Or ... for Maria?
She didn’t give a single shit about the rest of Jorge’s plans—nothing he planned against his own father, or the rival cartel, helped her. It would not get her out of here, and would only force him to seclude her and his child further away from the public while his manufactured wars raged on.
That’s how this life worked.
The conversation continued in the kitchen with her husband and his brother unaware that the fluttering hope she had allowed herself to feel now seemed like shards of glass inside her chest. Her legs became weak, and she slipped down to sit on the step, drawing her knees to her chest as she realized this was over.
They would never get free.
How could they if he left?
Her last hope.
What was hope good for, anyway?
Nothing.
That’s what.
Hope is for the fucking weak. It’s why she had never bothered before now because it all ended the same. So, why did this hurt so much?
• • •
“What are you do—”
Valeria scooped her daughter up from the ground where she had been playing with the kitten that her father still threatened to take from her. She ignored the nanny’s shout at her back as she turned and headed toward the stables while Maria’s wild black curls flew in every direction.
“Careful, my kitty!”
“Hold him tight,” Valeria told her girl.
Maria did just that, tucking the squirming kitten into her arms, cradling it like a baby doll. Behind them, Carla shouted louder.
“You can’t just take her, Valeria!”
“She is my child. I can do whatever I want.”
“I’ll tell Jorge you said that.”
Fuck it.
“Do so,” Valeria snapped over her shoulder.
Carla’s fish-mouthed stare almost made her laugh. The bitch also wasn’t as important as she tried to seem to be, so Valeria didn’t give her another thought.
Oh, sure, she would pay for this.
Jorge would make her aware.
Valeria didn’t give a shit.
Not right now.
“Where are we going?” Maria asked.
“For a horse ride.”
Away, she wanted to say,
Just ... God, away from here, and this place, and these people. Away from pain, and fear, and the hell that would someday catch up with her. Not that it mattered. Eventually, she would have to come back, and if she didn’t, then someone would come find her.
For right now, though, she was going.
She needed to.
Once she had calmed down earlier after overhearing Jorge’s conversation with his brother, Valeria’s only wanted to get away. It screamed in her heart—to go.
Somehow.
Knowing she didn’t have much time, Valeria took the one horse that someone already tacked up. That way, she didn’t have to waste time getting their favorite riding horses ready.
She put Maria on the horse first, tucking the kitten into a rucksack for her daughter to carry close to her chest, before heaving herself onto the animal, too. They came out of the stables in a slow trot.
“Don’t look back at the house,” she told her daughter.
Maria frowned, tipping her head back to peeked up at her mom. “Why?”
“Because if they know we see them, then we can’t lie later when we come back.”
“Not supposed to lie, Mamá.”
Valeria struggled the most with these moments. She wanted her child to be a good human being—a person with values, and morals. And with one white lie came more white lies, right?
Still ...
“Sometimes, we have to lie, Maria.”
Her daughter blinked. “To Jorge?”
She didn’t miss how it wasn’t Papá when someone couldn’t hear Maria. That just proved to Valeria that her daughter understood what she said even if she wanted her mother to explain it better.
“To him, and people that help him,” she agreed.
Maria nodded. “Okay, Mamá.”
Valeria checked behind them, though she told Maria not to. No one watched them leave, and even Carla had disappeared. No one saw them take the horse out.
It didn’t matter.
Valeria pressed her heels into the sides of the horse and clicked her tongue. That slow trot became a gallop, and she continued looking over her shoulder until the ranch disappeared. Still, no one saw them go.
The ride to the cliffs went by quickly. She should have planned the ride better—attempted to grab food to take with them so that Maria could have a supper.
Her daughter didn’t seem to mind.
Maria busied herself with wildflowers and her kitten. She didn’t notice her mother sitting along the edges of the cliffs. Valeria watched the horizon, and the choppy waters down below. They stayed like that, Valeria staring, and Maria playing, and before long, she heard hooves hitting the ground in a gallop.
Approaching.
She just knew.
It wasn’t someone coming after her.
Not to take her back.
It wasn’t Jorge, or his men.
Valeria peeked over her shoulder. She could tell who it was by the way he sat atop the animal, both comfortable and confident.
She also sensed him.