Corrupt

by Elena M. Reyes

  He does shut up a few seconds later when Geronimo takes a seat beside him. Pussy.

  “Who gives this woman to this man?” the priest asks, nervously swallowing.

  “Her mother and brother do.” Veronica’s voice is strong, leaving no room for the questions sitting on the God-fearing man’s tongue. This isn’t a normal wedding, and its ending will never be forgotten. The three of them have made peace with what’s to come. They’ve seen the evidence I turned in to the secretary of justice early this morning. “May God always bless this union, Mija.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” They hug, wiping away the happy tears that have fallen. “I love you both so much.”

  “We know.” Nudging her chin in my direction, Veronica smiles warmly at me. “Protect each other, and never go a day without saying I love you.”

  “You have my word; she’ll always be safe with me.” Slim fingers entwine with mine as her mother and brother find their seats on my side of the aisle in the same pew as my kin.

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss each knuckle. “You ready?”

  “I’ve always been yours, Alejandro.”

  Together, we turn to face the priest. A united front.

  He begins the service by reading a passage from the Bible about love and its unselfishness. About the purity of our union, and the blessing it is to find one’s soulmate.

  And while he talks and leads us into a prayer, I nod at the man entering the room from behind the officiant. He’s tall and quiet and gives me a nod, letting me know all is in place. No one sees him walk around and then take his place off to the side, blending in with my guards and a few members of the state’s military.

  Solimar knows, though. You can see the resolve in those expressive eyes and the nerves begin to take control. I mouth the word breathe and she nods, thighs slightly rubbing together.

  She has a weapon there. A wedding gift from me.

  Strapped to her thigh is an all-gold Ruger I had designed for her small hand. My first of many wedding gifts, and when I presented it to her this morning, she giggled like a little girl with excitement.

  “If anyone sees any reason why these two should not be wed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” As the priest finishes his question, Lino walks in and removes her younger brother from the scene. He’s injured. The bullet wound was thankfully a clean entry/exit, but he’s not cleared to participate past this role.

  There’s a beat of silence that follows their exit before hell descends upon the room.

  Her father and grandfather both stand, shouting to the room their hatred for me and my wife. They charge toward us while the Cortez duo sits and doesn’t move an inch—biding their time to see if an escape is possible.

  And I’ll let them. Maybe.

  “This hijueputa is a criminal and disgrace to our nation. He needs to be arrested.” That comes from her grandfather, an older-than-dirt man charging the altar with an undignified expression marring his features. And he almost makes it to the edge, just a few steps shy, when the federal employee steps forward with a signed indictment in his hand, courtesy of the vice president.

  He’ll be in charge for the next three months until election day.

  He’ll step in and then disappear without a trace to a quaint little villa in Tuscany.

  You see, no member of government is above the law, and our current president has a laundry list of infractions, from embezzling to the murder of innocent women in Thailand to sell everything from their organs to forced sexual acts while alive. Then, you have his attempt to take over my land and poppy production/sale.

  He overstepped his bounds and will now pay the price along with his father.

  The mid-morning news is already running the scandal along with the news of my marriage to Solimar Quintero.

  “Jose Quintero, you are under arrest for the death of Mr. Lucas Sr. and the false imprisonment/confiscation of all his belongings.”

  “That’s a lie! His father was a—”

  “You are also being charged with tax evasion, fraudulent activity in your offshore accounts, and the physical abuse suffered by your granddaughter recently.” The room has grown quiet, and a few have taken out their cell phones to record this humiliating moment. “Turn around, and hands behind your back.”

  He’s lucky I haven’t broken his leg in repayment for hurting Solimar—yet. I’ll wait to personally visit him once he’s inside and sleeping in a communal room.

  “Do you know who I am? I will not be treated like this by some culicagado—”

  “Hands behind your back, or we will use excessive force.”

  “You’ll pay for this.” That threat is for me, but it also sets off the shocked man beside him. Matias Quintero doesn’t disappoint and reaches for the gun on Geronimo’s holster, who just so happens to be distracted by the arrest happening near them.

  His face is red, and sweat dots his temples. His hands are shaking, and his breathing is a bit choppy while pointing the barrel at my chest. “You will never walk out of here alive.”

  A gun goes off, but it isn’t his.

  A bullet pierces flesh, but it doesn’t end his target.

  All eyes turn to Veronica and the small black handgun in her grip. Her shoulders are tense and eyes hard. “You’ll never hurt my family again. You’ll never threaten to take them from me.”

  Her husband’s shocked expression becomes vacant a few minutes later as blood continues to pour from the wound in his chest. The stain grows and some drops litter the floor below while his father is arrested amid cries of injustice.

  And while the commotion clears and witnesses are told to vacate the premises, two of the four have indeed escaped. Too bad for them, I like the chase. To not play by the book as I’ve done with the other two.

  They can run, but I’ll catch up. Today. Tomorrow.

  In approximately thirty-six hours…

  It doesn’t matter.

  My attention is on my new bride. The woman I married at the rise of dawn in a private ceremony this morning before God and our family.

  She’s all that matters, and while things played out in a way designed to alleviate them of any guilt, I’m at peace. Jose will rot in jail. Matias will rot beneath the earth.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, stroking a finger down her face after exiting the room. We’re in a gathering room with her family close by, the justice department head running them through what’s to come. “Tell me what you need, and it’s done.”

  “That man stopped being anything to me years ago.”

  “Being upset is normal and—”

  “I love you so much, Alejandro.” The emotion and honesty behind those three words cause my heart to thump harshly inside my chest. Makes me feel one hundred feet tall. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me, Preciosa. Your needs will always supersede mine.” I bring my lips down to hers, nipping the bottom before soothing the sting with the tip of my tongue. “My purpose in this life is to make you happy—protect you, and if I fail at either, then I don’t deserve you.”

  “You more than deserve me.” Solimar wraps her slender arms around my neck, pressing herself closer. “And if your purpose is to make me happy, then mine is to provide pleasure.”

  “Is that so, little flower? It’s a dangerous offer to make.”

  “It is.” She grips the hair at the back of my neck and pulls. The slight sting feels good. “And I have something special for you to take ownership of. A tight little hole that’s begging for her strong husband to take and—”

  Before she can finish, I have her thrown over my shoulder and I’m striding toward the exit. “Have a good day, and don’t bother knocking because we won’t answer.”

  “But we need to discuss what happened today. This is a crime scene, Mr. Lucas.”

  “Tomorrow we can discuss.” The government employee’s mouth opens, a rebuttal sitting on the tip of his tongue, but the look in my eyes ends that. “This is your only warning. Disturb me and my wife to
day, and I’ll shoot you myself.”

  EPILOGUE #1

  Thirty-six hours later…

  I GAVE THEM a head start because it amused me.

  Because while my girl will never admit it aloud, I know that the death of her father hurts. To know he’ll never repent, and that things were left unsaid, would leave a sour taste in anyone’s mouth, but my little flower is moving forward.

  They’ve gone to collect the body and buried him in a private ceremony at the family mausoleum. They cried, exchanged anecdotes of the early years where his humanity was still in place, and then she came home to me.

  I loved her slowly.

  Whispered my love.

  Promised to always be there for her.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” The two in question look up from their cement boxes, expression fearful. They’ve been begging to be released since arriving. They’ve bribed my men with wealth to give them safe passage back home.

  And yet, Cortez father and son are still here.

  Side by side and bodies covered by the concrete box they’re kneeling in, I have access to their sun-blistered faces and a hole the size of a water hose. It’s plugged tight and with no drainage. They’re each set up with a personal watering system meant to remove the skin clean off their bones.

  “How are you, Signio? Feeling better?” No answer. No eye contact. Maybe he’s lost his tongue?

  “Don Cortez, how about yourself? How’s life treating you?”

  This one has more life in him, his beady eyes narrowing to the points of slits while regarding me. “Why are you doing this? You already got the little slut…fuck!” His scream rings loud through the trees, echoing off the nearby grove and scaring away the birds relaxing at the top. They scatter as another pump of acid drains into the concrete box housing his near-naked body, falling over his flesh and melting down the skin and breaking down the muscle beneath.

  “Go ahead. Insult her again.” It’s a dare met by silence. By tearful eyes and the horrid stench of his pain.

  “Alejandro, I never wanted this. They forced me to chase and almost marry her, but my heart has always belonged to someone else.” This I know to be true, but it didn’t stop his ego from seeking revenge on a harmless woman for not being attracted to him. “Please. Please, Mr. Lucas, I beg you. Let me go back to—”

  “No.” Another scream, this time from the younger, and he’s a blubbering mess by the time the three bursts of acid finished their initial harm. Signio is almost incoherent, and the area just below his jaw is raw from his struggles—the sharp cement rubbing and tearing at the base of his neck. “Again.”

  Both this time. Acid pours nonstop into their forever home, and the smell of decomposing human anatomy is sour. A rancid scent that one never forgets, and more so as those pitiful eyes stare at you and beg for mercy.

  From the pain. From my wrath.

  “No mas.” Signio has the nerve to say no more, and I laugh. Geronimo and a recuperating Lino laugh.

  It’s hilarious how someone could beg for the mercy they never had when the shoe was on the other foot. The problem for them, I have no mercy. No remorse.

  The only part of me that’s still inherently good is waiting for me with my guests back at the main house. She is light and love and innocence. She’s sweet temptation and heavenly touches.

  Solimar is my salvation and demise all in the same breath. Moreover, I gladly give her that power.

  “Patron, Miss Quintero requested we come back at noon, and it’s fifteen till,” Lino says, holding out his cell phone where my sister sent him a reminder text. They’ve become good friends since the night he rescued Lourdes, becoming a positive influence on her. He doesn’t judge past mistakes. He supports and listens.

  If anything, I see a little hope bloom in her spirit, and I’m keeping an eye just close enough to make sure neither gets hurt. The kid is one of the good ones, and I plan to keep him as my personal driver while Geronimo steps into his new role as my right-hand.

  “Thank you.” Turning to take a closer inspection of my guests, I catch the look they give each other and click my fingers. This time, the flow won’t stop until the barrels feeding the line are depleted and they’re left to soak in the poisonous substance.

  It fills to the brim, a little spilling over the neck opening, and it’s tinged with red. Heavy amounts of red.

  Much better.

  Leaning over so I’m at eye level with the side-by-side screaming men, I sigh. “I gave you a chance. I warned you to stay away, and yet you ignored me.” Lino steps up and shoves a thick piece of wood into each of their mouths. Both men bite down, gnawing their teeth back and forth to the point lips are torn open and one loses a tooth. Slowly, they are dying as the acid eats away who they are and will leave behind a mess not worth horse shit behind. “This is what happens to those who stand against me, gentlemen. May the good Lord have more mercy than I did.”

  With that I turn around and walk away, leaving them to die alone and suffocating in their pain.

  The ride back to the house is fast and bumpy with my cutting it so close, but the annoyed expression melts off my Preciosa’s face when I walk in with ten seconds to spare. It’s a pretty full house today as we entertain business associates: old and new. As a certain buyer comes with an offer I’m intrigued by.

  Malcolm Asher sits in my outdoor terrace nursing a gin and tonic while his wife London, Mariah his cousin, and my Solimar discuss decorating the interiors for the upcoming holiday season. And while they go on and on about color schemes and what’s popular, I focus on the man my cousin calls his Boss.

  “My apologies for the small delay. I had something important that required my immediate attention.”

  Malcolm stands from his seat with an outstretched hand, smirking at me. “Those things tend to happen from time to time. No apologies needed.”

  Turning from him to Javier, I pull him in for a hug. “It’s been a long time, cousin. Everything okay?”

  “It is.”

  “She said?”

  “Not yet,” he hisses, looking over at the women who are too engrossed to care about what we do. “Soon, parce. Soon.”

  “Good.” Sol hands me a drink and I look up in time to catch the question in her eyes. I nod, letting her know it’s done. She gives me a minute head movement and retakes her seat, leaving me with two at-ease men with a file in front of them. “So, what brings you here today? How can I be of service?”

  “I’ve purchased three of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the US within the last six months, Mr. Lucas. All will be run solely by me without a board of members, and I’m in search of top-quality product.” He sits forward and pushes the envelope toward me. “In there is my proposal for your product and legal documentation showing that you are its owner and I’m merely a vendor. Look at it and discuss it with your wife. I’m more than open to negotiations and lenient on certain clauses.”

  “And what’s in it for you?” I’m not going to waste my time reading this. Javier knows better than to waste my time and that this is not Chicago where Mr. Asher rules. “Give me your number?”

  “Seventy-five/twenty-five, and you keep the higher percentage. And two, global dominion in its entirety. Everything people eat, drink, use, or simply indulge in will go through us.”

  “Us who?”

  “The Imperium.”

  “I’ll agree with one adjustment—”

  “You want a cut of the bigger pie.”

  “Always.”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that, Mr. Lucas. We accept.”

  EPILOGUE #2

  Fifteen months later…

  “FUCK, I LOVE YOU,” I murmur against her lips, hips pumping in and out of her slowly. We’re riding the high of our release, pulling from each other every last shiver while the water inside the tub splashes and drips over the rim.

  It’s a beautiful mess in this bathroom.

  The result of holiday planning and hosting.

  We’re lost i
n each other while outside our bedroom door, our families are having dinner together downstairs. It’s the day before Christmas Eve, our first shared holiday after I kept her to myself last year, and I’m tired of sharing her. Of someone needing her opinion on dishes and the spices used and what napkin to use with what ring.

  At this point, we could eat empanadas using paper plates while sipping Postobon and I wouldn’t care.

  Is it rude of me? Yes.

  Do I care? Fuck and no.

  Not when my beautiful, pregnant wife goes out of her way to seduce me with every breath and batting of her eyes. With the way she bites her lips and finds every excuse possible to touch me.

  My arm.

  My back.

  My cock when no one is looking.

  There’s nothing more decadent than making the sweet and innocent—hungrily corrupt.

  Her innocence drew me in, but the promise of wickedness behind those grey eyes controls me.

  “God, I needed that,” Solimar moans, stretching her arms high and putting those perky tits at eye level, almost skimming my lips.

  “Always so needy,” I murmur against a stiff peak before taking it between my teeth, biting down hard enough to sting. She loves that, though. The taste of pain and pleasure. “Was this morning not enough?”

  “That was an appetizer and you know it, Mr. Lucas.” Solimar is looking at me from beneath long lashes, eyes hooded and hungry. She swivels those sensuous hips, and my cock responds by thickening inside her.

  I’m always ready for her. No matter how many times.

  “Kick them out and we can spend the next three days in bed.” I release her and flick the tight tip. “There’s still your dance studio to christen along with the downstairs media room. There are cameras to test and soundproofing to rate.”

  “And you say I’m the needy one.” Her voice is breathy, body shivering at the thought of filming and watching in real-time. “Christ. Is that why you added the one bar against the mirrors even though ballet isn’t my specialty?”