Page 31 of Vicious Little Liar
“What if I were in a position to make you mine?”
I ignore the spear of regret in my chest at hearing his words and open my eyes. “Dream is just another word for fairytale,” I tell him. “Neither one of them is real.”
“They could be.”
No. They can’t. I’m not playing thewhat ifgame. Not anymore. “I stopped believing in happily ever afters long ago. They’re nothing more than pause points in stories that are still being written.” Cartel daughters don’t get an HEA. For girls like us, they are never in the cards.
Forcing my feet to move, I resume my steps and follow a wordless Maria out of the room.
11
ANDRES
With my feet rooted to the floor, Leticia leaves. Nothing about tonight is going as planned. It’s like watching a car wreck in slow motion and being powerless to stop it. What the hell happened to make her this bitter?
Gritting my teeth, I drain the last of my glass, barely acknowledging the burn of alcohol as it slides down my throat. Adrian steps into the room only a moment later, with our younger brothers—Ángel and Aztlán—at his side.
Great. Just what I need. A family meeting.
Without hesitation, Adrian launches right into his lecture.
“I told you taking her would be a mistake.”
I grunt, an almost confirmation of his words, but I haven’t given up yet.
“She hates you, Andres. Don’t you see that?”
“She’s angry. It will pass.”
“She’s hot,” Aztlán adds with a shrug, claiming the seat across from me. “I say she’s worth the trouble.”
I smirk and resume my seat as well, leaving my remaining brothers to follow suit. They do, albeit begrudgingly.
Aztlán is the youngest of the three, at only eighteen years of age. If Adrian is the most calculated and critical in thinking, Aztlán is the most carefree. He does what he wants, when he wants to, with little thought of the consequences. It’s no surprise he’d find Leticia worth the trouble, seeing nothing beyond her beauty. For him, her beauty is enough.
“Cállate, por favor,” Shut up, please. Adrian mutters with clear exasperation in his tone.
“Why should he?” I ask. “You brought him into this conversation to speak his mind, did you not?”
Adrian’s jaw tightens.
“Or can our brothers only join the conversation when they agree with you?”
Aztlán snickers and throws me a wink. Adrian should have known better. Our youngest brother is always on my side. How could he not be? I damn near raised him after Papá died and I was forced to step into his shoes and pick up the pieces of our family.
“Do we have to fight?” Ángel sets his laptop on his thighs. The device is still closed, though I doubt it will remain that way for long. It’s something I rarely see Ángel without these days.
“We’re not fighting,” Adrian and I say in unison, to which both of our younger brothers roll their eyes.
“Whatever,” Ángel murmurs. “It’s late, and I have classes in the morning. Can we get on with this so I can get some sleep?” Ángel is attending PacNorth University with a double major in computer engineering and accounting. He takes paranoia to an extreme and has decided it is his duty to be educated in all areas that he believes our family has a weakness in.
I gave him a hard time about the decision in the beginning. He’s young and should focus on enjoying his youth—an opportunity I wasn’t afforded.
We have people who manage our security and accounting who’ve been successful in doing so for years. I had no reason to question their abilities. Until now. Ángel is only two years into his degree programs and already he’s uncovered deficiencies in both areas. His mind thinks in ways that our more seasoned men are incapable of. And I’ve come to realize that if my brother wants to master something, it is my job to support him.
“Get rid of her,” Adrian grunts. “You intervened. It was a mistake. Cut your losses and move on.”
“No.”
