by J Q Anderson
“Sebas, good to see you.” He pulled Sebastián into a hug, patting his shoulder. Then he turned to me and suddenly I couldn’t remember how to breathe. “Good to finally meet you, Camila. I’m Julián. Sebas has spoken a lot about you.”
The words were right, but his tone was chilled, laced with contempt. What the hell was his problem? I felt like the prey and he was the predator debating whether or not I was worth eating.
I tilted up my chin and gave him a polite smile. “Nice to meet you too. And happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He nodded before turning to look at Sebastián pointedly. “Your father’s been asking about you. He wants to discuss some strategies for the situation at the docks.” Something about the exchange made me feel uneasy.
“Shit,” Sebastián muttered, taking a long sip of his drink. He surveyed the crowd, then gave a slight nod at someone in the distance. I followed his gaze to a middle-aged man heading in our direction. It took me a moment to realize I was looking at Don Martín Palacios as he approached flanked by two oversized men in black suits.
How I had envisioned Don Martín fell short against the live version. He strode with the confidence of a man who owns everything that surrounds him. He was tall, somewhat thick, his shoulders wide and muscular. His raven hair was dusted with white and neatly combed back. Don Martín’s creased skin was kissed by a dark tan, his eyes, a deep hazel. He wore a crisp white shirt open at the collar and gray slacks. As he got closer, he appraised me from head to toe, and an amused smile twisted up his mouth.
“An angel has paid us a visit,” he said, slightly bowing his head to me. “And my son is the lucky one at her side.”
“Papá, it’s good to see you,” said Sebastián. “I want you to meet Camila.”
Don Martín awarded me his full attention. My pulse sprinted as he gently took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. I felt like when I was on stage, those few first seconds when everything is overwhelming.
“Exquisite,” he said, matching Sebastián’s words from earlier. “I am delighted to meet you, darling.”
I straightened my shoulders and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mr. Palacios.”
“Please, princesa. Call me Don Martín.” He gave my hand a soft squeeze before letting go and shifting his attention to Sebastián. “It’s been too long since you last visited me.” Don Martín wrapped his son in a tight embrace, then broke away and held him at arm’s length. “You look well.” He turned to Julián and gave him an affectionate pat on his arm. “You too. I miss having you both closer. As you know, we have pressing business to discuss.” Addressing Sebastián, he said, “You’ve caused quite a commotion.”
“Papá, it’s Julián and Mercedes’s party,” Sebastián said, kissing my temple. “Can it wait?”
Don Martín smiled and gave him a nod, then looked up at Julián. “And, as usual, it’s a fine party. Your sister’s skills are unmatched. Happy birthday. I will see you and Sebastián before I leave.”
“Of course,” Julián said. He glanced at me, absorbing my reaction to Sebastián’s father’s presence.
“May I have this dance, darling girl?” Don Martín once again took my hand in his, and I flinched.
“Oh, um…”
When I looked up, Sebastián gave me a wink.
Nearby, the band played “Georgia on My Mind.” Don Martín led me to an area by the pool, a few steps away, where people were dancing. He raised my hand, placing his other one on my waist. His fingers grazed my bare skin, making me regret my choice of dress.
“You’re a magnificent dancer,” he said. “But of course, you’re a professional, so I’m not surprised. I hear you are part of the Colón’s permanent company. Quite an accomplishment.”
“Thank you. You’re an excellent dancer as well.”
He took in everything around us, smiling benevolently. “My son is quite taken by you. It’s good to see him so happy. He’s always been the one who takes care of everyone else. I like seeing him smile.”
“I care about Sebastián too. Very much.”
“I can see that. You’re passionate. It’s in your eyes. Sebastián sees it as well, I can tell. His mother was like that. I’ve never loved another woman the way I loved Silvana.” He let out a faint sigh. Then his expression sharpened. “But passion can be a dangerous thing if it's not well directed.”
“What makes you believe my passion isn’t well directed? I’m passionate about my work, and so far, my career is going well.”
He chuckled. “A fair point, dear girl.” He let a moment pass before his expression grew serious. “I was referring to my son. But while we’re on the subject, may I be candid with you?” His low, raspy voice betrayed the darkness in his tone.
“Please.”
“You see…” He paused for a moment, as if to find the right words. “I have built an empire from the ground up. It’s my entire life’s dedication, and it will all belong to Sebastián one day. Maybe to you too,” he said more lightly, but his eyes told me he didn’t miss a beat. “But as a part of this family, Sebastián has a great deal of responsibility. Difficult choices at times.” He scanned the crowd over my shoulder before looking back at me. I realized he did this often. “I’m wondering, Camila, if you’re willing to accept that? The challenges that will come your way?”
I did my best to appear unfazed, though inside I was shivering. We had only met a minute ago and I already smelled fire. Sirens blasted inside my skull. Get the fuck away from all this.
“Don Martín,” I said in a steady voice. “Sebastián and I have only just met. My main aspiration is to become the best dancer I possibly can. What Sebastián decides to do with his future is his own decision.”
Don Martín’s knowing smile widened. “Of course, I’m getting ahead of myself as usual. I hope I didn’t offend you, sweet girl. I’m just very protective of my sons. If you’re important to Sebastián, then I must also be protective of you. I can’t promise it will always be easy, but being a part of this family also brings many benefits. I want you to keep that in mind.”
Was he negotiating with me? My heart raced, and I was relieved when Sebastián appeared at my side. “Papá, you’re monopolizing my girlfriend.”
Don Martín let out a throaty laugh. “Ah. I should be so lucky.” He clasped a thick hand on Sebastián’s nape. His smile for his son was dashing. “It brings me joy to see you happy, son. Don’t forget to come see me before you leave tonight.”
“I’ll stop by before we leave.”
“She’s one in a million,” Don Martín said warmly at the two of us. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Camila. Don’t be a stranger.” He winked, then walked away shadowed by his bodyguards.
In that moment I knew exactly what Father JP had meant when he said Don Martín was smart about the way he lured Sebastián in. In his smooth, charming manner, he had clearly let me know he wanted me in his corner.
I rested my face on Sebastián’s shoulder. My head spun.
“Don’t let him intimidate you.”
“Hmm. Too late.”
“He has a big heart, once you get to know him.” His lips brushed my temple. “Do you want to get going?”
“Yeah.”
“Come.” Interlacing our hands, he led me in the direction of the house.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” a smooth voice called from behind us.
No, no, no. What now?
Sebastián turned around and his expression instantly lightened.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. You look striking, sweetheart. Happy birthday.” He let go of my hand to embrace a five-foot-ten supermodel in his arms, kissing her cheek.
Sweetheart? Jealousy flashed through me.
“Camila, this is Mercedes, Julián’s twin sister,” said Sebastián. He wore my favorite smile as he gazed at the ridiculously hot Barbie with a familiarity that made me clench my teeth.
“It’s a pleasure,” she said with a half smile.
“Sebas has been blabbing nonstop about you.” She glanced up at him with soft eyes. I narrowed mine. Funny how he barely talked about her and completely forgot to mention she was ridiculously hot.
“She’s gorgeous, Sebas,” she said, giving me a onceover. “You weren’t exaggerating. And a ballerina at the Colón. How peculiar.” She turned to me. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said. Peculiar?
While she chatted with Sebastián, my attention fell hostage to her imposing appearance. She was tall, gorgeous, and impeccably dressed in a silk gown that went down to her feet. Her features highly resembled Julián’s but were flawlessly drawn in sophisticated, soft lines. Silky layers of auburn hair cascaded halfway down her bare back. With eyelashes that went on forever, her green eyes bore the same feline features as Julián’s, contrasting sharply with the same olive skin tone they all shared. She had a statuesque nose and full, high cheekbones. I hated her.
“Listen to me, rambling on and on,” she said, shaking her head and smiling brightly at Sebastián. “It’s a party, Sebas. Don’t look so serious.” Leaning closer, she pinched his chin. “He loves you,” she crooned. I assumed she meant Don Martín and, for a moment, I felt as if I was intruding in a personal conversation. The familiarity between them set my teeth on edge. I wanted to strangle her.
Sebastián’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded in agreement. Jealousy flicked my ear. Mercedes seemed to have an immediate effect on him. They obviously had a deep connection. I racked my brain, trying to remember what Sebastián had said about her. Were they childhood friends? How close? I couldn’t remember, but I hoped they were close enough to make any romance between them inappropriate.
“Happy birthday, Mechi. Great party, as usual,” he said, stroking her cheek affectionately.
She looked back at him, enamored.
“Oh,” he said, spotting someone in the crowd. “I need to talk to Martín Cassas before we leave.” He turned to me. “I’ll be back in a sec, babe.” Before I could respond, he was gone.
“Great party. Thanks for having me.” I smiled at Mercedes as I nervously swirled the champagne in my glass.
“Yes, I’m happy with the turnout,” she said, looking around at the guests. “Must be a nice change of scenery. For you, I mean.”
“Pardon?”
“This party. The guests, the champagne, that dress.” She shrugged, hurrying the last of her drink. “I imagine you’re quite out of your element here. He bought you that dress, didn’t he? It’s an Inés Fernandez. I know her work. Well, enjoy it. And then go right back to whatever suburb you came from.” She looked down at me, suddenly a foot taller.
My brain stuttered and I blinked.
“He’s mine, darling.” She sneered.
“Wh—”
“Look, I get it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s just having a bit of fun. Another one of his ways to cross Don Martín, but that’s all this is, you understand? I’m doing you a favor, you know.” Her serpent glare pinned me to my spot.
My jaw dropped. This fucking party, the alcohol, this venomous bitch! I wanted to vomit.
“Excuse me,” I said, and set off toward the house.
I heard her chuckle behind me. Everything around me spun wildly, and I thought I was going to faint. I hurried through the guests. Their lively chatter now struck me as a sinister mock, reminding me I was an intruder. Finally inside the house, I leaned against a column, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply to force down the bile that rose to my throat.
“Cami, are you all right?” Sebastián gently clasped my shoulder from behind.
“Can we go?”
“Sure. Everything okay? You’re pale.”
“I’m just tired.”
“I’ll get your coat.”
Arguing voices burst from the foyer. Sebastián frowned.
“Stay here.” He took a step in the direction of the main entrance, but I clutched his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“Please wait here. Promise me.” His eyes focused on something behind me. He gave a nod, and in an instant, Rafa appeared by my side. “Stay with her,” Sebastián ordered.
“Let me see what’s going on first,” Rafa said in a strained tone.
“No. Stay with her.” He turned and stalked to the foyer. Rafa cursed under his breath. I stumbled off after Sebastián, but Rafa’s massive hand clasped my arm.
“Stay here.”
“Then you go with him,” I pleaded.
Rafa’s attention turned to the main foyer. The voices grew louder, and I looked up at him with desperation. He hesitated for a moment, then let go of my arm and took off. I gave him two seconds, then followed, everything around me spinning.
As soon as the foyer came into view, I was suddenly sober. An army of about a dozen men crowded the main entrance. I immediately recognized the two Russians. I didn’t know their names but remembered them from times when Nata and I had gone out with Sergei. They looked drunk, arguing loudly in broken English at the giant shadows of Julián’s bodyguards. Instant panic that Nata, Sergei, or even Alexei might be amongst them seized me. Two more men, each with a date, appeared at the door behind them, protesting in Russian, but there were no signs of my friend or her brother. What was this? More men in suits, all armed to the teeth, gathered at the door, surrounding the intruders. My insides twisted into a knot.
I stopped at a massive wall separating the foyer from the main room, a few feet behind Rafa. Sebastián saw me and shot Rafa a murderous glare. Realizing I was standing behind him, Rafa shook his head in frustration.
“Dammit, Camila,” Rafa said, shielding me behind his large frame.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
Julián stepped in from the periphery. His men tensed, their guns pointed at the intruders, while others searched them, though they seemed to be unarmed. They struggled, yelling threats in Russian, and the commotion grew louder.
“What the hell is this?” Julián barked.
“We want to speak to Don Martín Palacios,” one of the Russians growled. The others struggled behind him, restrained by the bodyguards. Their dates smiled and seemed unconcerned, bored even.
“Throw this garbage out. I don’t want them upsetting my guests,” said Julián with detestation. “You assholes have no boundaries. This is my fucking house. Zchestakova sent you? Is this his way of asking for business now? Give him a message from me. Tell him his imports are fucked now. For good.”
The two Russians in front wrestled under the bodyguards’ grips. One of them spat at Julián, and a massive guy backhanded him hard, smashing his knuckles into his nose. A furious stream of red gushed down the Russian’s chin and onto his shirt. Jesus. I looked away.
“Get them the fuck out and search the property,” Julián said.
Sebastián turned to me and took my hand. “Show’s over. Let’s go.” He rushed me back into the main living room. I stumbled, almost tripping on my heels. “Stay here with Rafa. I need to speak to Julián, then we can go.”
I frowned.
“I mean it, Camila. Stay with Rafa.”
“Fine.” I let out a petulant sigh and plopped on an oversized sofa. Would this night ever end? I rested my head, staring through the glass wall. Outside, the party was alive, the guests oblivious to the intrusion. After a few minutes, I stood up and Rafa mirrored me.
“I’m just going to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”
“I’ll come with you.” Rafa quickly surveyed the room.
“We really have to work this out. I’ve been going to the bathroom all by myself since I was three.”
He shrugged. “Just doing my job.”
“As you wish.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, pressing it to his ear. He listened for a brief moment and said a curt yes before hanging up.
“Sebastián needs me for a minute,” he said. “Will you please just wait for me here when you’re back? Won’t be long.”
As soon as he left, I beelined to the bathroom and stumbled into a young waiter in a crisp white coat.
“Sorry, I—”
“Miss, I was told to give you this.” He handed me a small, white, sealed envelope and turned away before I could say anything. I frowned and quickly opened it, pulling out a thick paper card. My blood froze when I recognized Nata’s handwriting.
Meet me outside in the back of the west wing by the slate fountain. Bring Sebastián and no one else. Please.
Chapter 23
The west wing, where the hell was the west wing? Dammit, Nata. I hurried down a long hallway leading to what I assumed was the right way. My head swam in alcohol and disbelief. At the end of the hall, a wood-framed glass door was ajar. I pushed through it to a small, private garden.
Sergei Zchestakova tensed when he saw me, immediately putting out his cigarette.
“Where’s Palacios?” he said in his thick Russian accent.
“Where’s Nata?”
“Not here. She just wrote the note.” He slipped another cigarette between his lips and lit it. Betrayal punched my gut. She’s in on this?
“Oh.”
“Only way.” He shrugged. “I needed to bring him out here. Where is he?”
I whipped my head around to make sure nobody had followed, then closed the door behind me.
“For fuck’s sake, Sergei. This house is a fortress, and Julián’s men are all over the property. Looking for you, probably. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Shhh. Shhh,” he admonished. “Quiet down. I really need to speak to Don Martín, but your boyfriend will do also.” He nodded dismissively.
“Absolutely not. This is crazy. You have to get out now, you hear me?”
He took a long drag from his cigarette and didn’t answer.
