Crowned In Blood

Chapter 6

6

Catalina

Six months later

I flipped through the financial reports my assistant, Olivia, had prepared. Our numbers were impressive.

"The profits from the shipping company exceeded projections again," Olivia said with a smile. "At this rate, we'll triple our revenue from last year."

I hummed in satisfaction. "Good. What about the casino and nightclubs?"

"Also exceeding expectations. The new security measures seem to be working, and there haven't been any issues."

I leaned back in my chair, interlacing my fingers. "Excellent. Schedule a meeting with our capos to discuss expanding into new territory. I think it's time we looked into opportunities on the West Coast."

Olivia made a note on her tablet.

"What about the clinic?" I asked.

"Construction is complete. The interior designer has a meeting with Naya at the Center of Gentle Love and Hope today to go over color schemes and furniture."

I suppressed a small smile. I didn't have any friends, but I spoke with Naya often. Building the clinic for her foundation was a huge step forward in helping the women who had nowhere else to go. But she worried that I was doing far too much for the organization and could be stubborn. I was sure I'd have a voicemail about the meeting later.

Olivia's brown eyes hardened for a moment, her demeanor shifting. "Your father called again. I've taken care of it."

I clenched my fist underneath my desk. I meant it when I'd told my father the next time I saw him would be at his funeral, but he'd started calling me frequently after the news of Fernando's death. I didn't have the energy or time, and refused to spare any to deal with him.

Luckily, my efficient and take-no-bullshit assistant handled the issue for me. "Thank you."

Olivia nodded. "I've also scheduled your meeting with Ruth Aguilar today at three. Do you want me to add anything to the agenda?"

"No. I’ll be out for the rest of the day."

"Please let me know if you need anything else, Do?a."

Olivia slipped out the door and I sat back in my plush leather chair. So much had changed in the last six months.

My body no longer felt weak. Thanks to the nutritionist and personal trainer I'd worked with, I was no longer malnourished.

I'd thrown myself into kickboxing, judo, karate. Learned to become proficient with guns, archery, and throwing weapons under a Navy SEAL. I was a competent fighter who could beat most of my men in hand-to-hand combat.

I'd also legitimized myself in The Underground repairing some of the damage Fernando caused to the Salazar Familia's reputation.

There was still trouble, though. Many mafia heads believed as a woman, I couldn't lead alone and would do better married, preferably to one of them.

But I simply fielded their calls through Olivia unless they stepped out of line. Then I spoke to them in the only language they could understand—violence.

I’d castrated several men and mailed their ball sacs to their bosses with a note they’d be next. I’d even sent a mafia boss the severed fingers of six of his capos last week.

Internally, I'd had to kill a few of my own men as well, but the rest had begun to respect me. I'd fostered those relationships by investing time in getting to know their loved ones, hosting recurring meetings with wives, mothers, and whoever else they cared about until I had their trust and support.

It was a lot. I worked excessively, always stayed busy. I had to. It was the only way I could calm my mind and keep my past from overwhelming me.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

Olivia poked her head inside. "Your car is ready whenever you are."

"Thank you, Olivia. Please let Ruth know I'll be there within the hour."

Olivia nodded and closed the door behind her.

Grabbing my purse, I made my way downstairs, where my driver awaited me.

At my approach, he opened the door. "Do?a."

One day, I'll get used to people calling me that

"Thank you."

The driver gave a curt nod, and I slid into the backseat. Then I began working, skimming over emails, and scanning our surroundings every time we came to a full stop.

As the town car approached Ruth's modest single-story home, I took in the well-kept lawn and vibrant flower beds lining the walkway.

A smile tugged at my lips. Even at eighty-four years old and a grandmother to six, Ruth refused to let age slow her down.

The driver opened my door, and I made my way up the paved steps.

Before I could knock, the front door flung open. "Catalina, mi amor, it's so good to see you!" Ruth took my hands in hers, a warm smile brightening her face.

I squeezed the silver-haired woman's hands with a chuckle. "It's good to see you, too."

"Come in, come in." Ruth guided me to the kitchen and I took a seat at the table while she prepared two mugs of fresh tea.

When Ruth settled beside me, she launched into everything that had happened since my last visit a month ago—her granddaughter's first steps, a new Telenovela she'd become obsessed with, the latest neighborhood gossip, and finally, information about her son Joseph.

Joseph was one of my capos and an obedient but quiet man. He was the first to follow me and I was grateful, but still cautious. I was considering bringing him in on some of my more important dealings, but I needed to speak with Ruth first, to gain more background on him. And no one knew Joseph like his mother.

"Joseph tells me you're doing well, that this familia is better now because of you, and I agree."

Even though her words were kind, something was off. She seemed nervous, and that wasn't like Ruth.

"I have to admit, I had my doubts. In my time, a woman in your position was unheard of, and with how the men treated us here…" Ruth trailed off; she didn't need to say more.

"I understand. I remember how things were when I married Fernando. He and his men treated women like toys, and I'm certain some of them are still prejudiced. However, this organization will continue to change and get better for as long as I'm here."

Ruth scanned my face. She swallowed hard, her hands trembling around her cup as tears pooled in her eyes. "You've already made such a difference. But there are things… things you don't know, things I fear you won't be able to fix, and we'll never be whole without them."

I leaned back. Ruth always spoke her mind. She was blunt, tough, and strong . For her to hold back, or admit fear, was entirely unlike her. My questions about Joseph could wait until later—this was more important.

Reaching out, I squeezed her hand softly. "It's okay. I value your opinion, so please tell me and I'll do what I can."

Ruth took a deep breath. "Fernando was a cruel, cruel man. He had unforgivable ways of keeping us in line."

The pain etched on her face as she tried to share her past was all too familiar to me, and I gently ushered her to sip her tea.

After a few minutes, her eyes met mine. "He threatened to take our children."

Everything stopped. I couldn't hear my heartbeat or feel the sun's warmth on my skin. The words echoed endlessly in my skull until it ached. The air thickened; it was nearly impossible to breathe.

"What exactly do you mean by take , Ruth?"

"If we didn't follow orders, if we questioned him, he'd take them. At first, it was just our sons at fifteen or sixteen. He'd put them to work for him. It's what he did with Joseph. He had no use for little girls, so we thought they were safe… for a while. But then he started taking them too."

My nails dug into my palm containing the rage, the revulsion. "Do you know what he did with them?"

Ruth shook her head. "I just know they never came back. I held their mothers as they cried their hearts out. Some fought and were killed. And those that survived, died inside. That hijo de puta got whatever he wanted, no matter who we asked for help." ? *

"How old were the girls he took?"

Sadness clouded Ruth's face. "As young as three, as old as thirteen."

Fuck.

I'd uncovered a lot about my familia, but so much remained unknown. Fernando was secretive. He didn't share details even with his closest men.

There were no records of minors working for Fernando. His staff was always women over nineteen from outside the familia. Fernando was a greedy pig, so I doubted he killed the kids. But the alternative sickened me.

Trafficking was a lucrative business. There were substantial financial gains I couldn't track, hundreds of millions of dollars' worth. To my horror, it made sense they were the money's source.

I was furious. If I could, I would bring Fernando back from the dead and kill him all over again. But this time, I'd do it slowly. I'd keep him alive for as long as possible while I tortured the truth out of him.

A part of me was mad at Ruth for not telling me sooner. But deep down, I didn't blame her. I'd never said a word about my abuse, because I knew no one would ever believe me.

But for the mothers who lost their kids? They'd tried and gotten nowhere. Why would they open up to someone, especially after so long? That Ruth had said something now was a show of utmost faith and trust.

She gripped my hand tightly. "I have no right to ask, Do?a, but I believe in you and that you want what's best for us. If you can, please find out what happened to the children. Give us the peace we've never had."

"I will." I squeezed her hand just as tight. "I'll give this familia the answers it deserves. I won't rest until I do."

My hands gripped the steering wheel tight as I stopped at the electronic gate of Fernando's mansion. I took a deep breath as I entered the code, trying to settle my nerves.

I hadn't set foot in this house since the day he died. Everything about this place filled me with dread and nightmares.

He's dead. He can't hurt you. You're strong. You beat him , I told myself, but the words of encouragement didn't make me feel better.

I entered Fernando's office on trembling legs, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. My familia was counting on me to find answers, to locate any records of the children stolen from them. I couldn't do that if I had a mental breakdown.

He's dead. He can't hurt you. He's dead. He can't hurt you.

I repeated the words over and over until I believed them and began systematically searching his office. I pulled out every drawer, even searched within the furniture for hidden compartments. I moved the heavy pieces to check for loose floorboards, and hidden safes behind the walls. I pulled the frames off paintings, checking to see if paperwork had been hidden beneath them, and turned books inside out.

Fernando had a habit of hiding things in odd places. It was the only reason I hadn't sold the mansion, or several other houses and buildings he owned. He kept records behind glass photos, USBs in vases. It was random, but it made sense in this line of work.

He had to have records somewhere. But the truth was it could take months, even years, to find a single piece of evidence tying him to human trafficking, much less find the girls he'd taken.

This wouldn't be easy. I had no point of reference. Alfonso and Benito had been Fernando's right-hand men, so when I'd killed them, I'd killed anyone who could tell me his secrets.

After several hours of searching and finding nothing, I hurled the book I was searching through, yelling in frustration.

The book crashed into a stack I'd looked through and discarded, but the loud, chaotic bomb of noise catapulted me back in time.

Suddenly, Fernando was there, his ugly, depraved face with a wide, cruel smile as he pinned me down. His heavy weight pushed me to the ground, leaving me unable to move. His fat fingers twisted in my hair, lifting my head, slamming it down, triumph shining in his eyes.

I panicked, unable to breathe. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The world tilted as I crashed to the floor, gasping for air. I was stuck living out this nightmare until he was unconscious, then I could finally pull myself free.

When I came to, tears poured down my face. The room spun as I crawled under the safety of the large wooden desk. I wrapped my arms around my knees, curling into a ball.

"He's dead," I whispered, trying to pull in air, trying to calm myself down. "He's dead. He's dead. He's dead !"

I screamed the words over and over until I finally stopped shaking. Then I wiped my eyes and bit my lip in anger over being so weak.

Why? Why after everything that I'd gone through, after all the trauma I'd endured, did I keep having these flashbacks? Why hadn't they gone away? It had been six months. I'd achieved so much, so why couldn't I let that go? Why was I stuck reliving that nightmare?

I gripped the edge of the desk, using it to help me as I slowly stood. The answers to those questions didn't matter now. I had to shove them back, into the deepest parts of my mind. People were counting on me.

I won't fail them.

In the end, I was the victor here. I was in control. I had escaped my father, survived Fernando, and I'd built a new life. Like a phoenix, I'd risen from the ashes, and I refused to let anyone hold me down, including myself .

Taking a deep breath, I looked around the office. I'd need to come back to continue the search. But that was enough for today.

I'd go home, recollect myself and think things over. Maybe there was a simpler way, a connection somewhere that could lead me to the information, or perhaps I could make a new connection myself.

I'd need to see what other mafia familias had ties at the borders and overseas, but the important thing was I would succeed. No matter how long it took, I would find them, whatever the cost.

* ? That son of a bitch, got whatever he wanted, no matter who we asked for help.