Page 35 of Bound By A Promise
The sting was back to behind my eyes. “You’ve done your job well, Miguel. My parents can’t blame you. Fate put us together on different occasions.”
He lifted his brow. “Such as Catalina’s wedding?”
The tips of my lips curled. “That was the first time.” My pulse sped up as I thought about Dante. “The arrangements you heard about, were they with Dante Luciano?”
“Is he who you think you love?”
Ithink.
I clenched my teeth together. “I know everyone believes I’m too young to know love, but I’m not. Mama married Papá when she was only seventeen years old. I’m twenty.”
“AndSeñorLuciano is thirteen years your senior.”
“El Patr?nmarried Liliana off to Uncle Gerardo, and he could have been her father.”
“That marriage worked well,” he replied sarcastically.
I pressed my lips together. “Cat. She’s eleven years younger than Dario.”
“Sometimes we must trust others, must trust that your parents have your best interests at heart. Perhaps they know something about the younger Luciano that you don’t know.”
“That he’s a murderer, a thief, a criminal? Couldn’t the same be said about Rei?”
Miguel shook his head. “I’ll bring you a plate from dinner. Promise me that you’ll stay in your room untilsu padre’sguests leave.”
I strained to hear voices, but Papá’s office was too far away. The doors were probably closed.
“I can slip down the back stairs and avoid Papá’s office.”
Miguel’s nostrils flared. “Stay, Camila. Your father’s orders.” With that, he turned on his heel, heading toward the back staircase.
Stay.
Sit.
Marry.
I wasn’t the daughter of a top lieutenant in the Roríguez cartel; I was a dog, someone who was expected to obey each command. It may be expected, but I hadn’t promised. I’d stayed silent.
My grip on the doorframe tightened as my curiosity grew about Papá’s meeting. He had meetings all the time. To stay in my room was an unusual request.
It bid the question, why?
Taking one last look down the back hallway to confirm Miguel’s descent to the lower level, I stepped from my room, my bare feet padding silently on the decorative runners. My entire life had been spent in this house, so I deftly avoided the boards in the hardwood floor that would make a sound. By the time I reached the landing, my heart was thumping in my ears.
Staying hidden behind the corner where the hallway and loft intersected, I crouched down, watching the area before Papá’s office. The doors were closed. If Sergio wasn’t standing guard, literally standing, I wouldn’t know that Papá had visitors—visitors that also included Mama. Sergio stood when guests were inside. Besides, I had no reason to doubt Miguel.
Sergio turned toward the doors, reaching for a doorknob and pushing it inward. I held my breath as Mama exited, casually looking over her shoulder. I heard a deep voice with a heavier Latino accent than my father’s. For a moment, I thought it could have been Jorge.
Aléjandro Roríguez, Jorge’s oldest son, stepped from the office, followed closely behind by another man. I saw his boot and jean-clad leg. I anticipated Rei. It would make sense that Papá didn’t want me to come out dressed as I am with my future husband here. I sucked in a breath and covered my lips with my fingers to stop myself from making a sound.
The man behind Jano wasn’t Rei; it was Dante.
My nipples beaded beneath the silk of my camisole as goose bumps scattered over my arms and legs. I couldn’t believe that he was here in my house. Without pause, I scanned from his dark boots up his long denim-covered legs. He wasn’t wearing a suit as his brother would. No, Dante was wearing a navy t-shirt over the washboard abs I’d felt the night in his apartment, his muscle-bound arms exposed. His deep tone reverberated through me, sending tingles through my circulation.
Papá was the last to exit as he offered his hand to Jano and then to Dante.
Dante hesitated. “We had an agreement.”