Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
I felt her presence before she even sat down next to me. Amari took a deep breath, whispering, “I knew I’d find you up here.” She stared out ahead, gathering her thoughts with what she wanted to say to me. Already knowing this was going to be one of our last conversations for who knows how long. “I have loved Michael all my life. He’s the only future I ever wanted. I’ve ever needed. I’ve always known he was my way out. A baby would just seal us together, forever.”
I glanced at her, narrowing my eyes as I processed her words and what she was implying.
“Michael is a good man. Contrary to what you think, he will be an amazing husband and father. No one will take him away from me. He’s mine now.”
We locked eyes.
“I love you, Alejandro. You’ll always be my brother, no matter what. I’ll always be a Martinez, and with that name comes purgatory. I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” I simply stated, breaking my silence.
“If something were to happen to Michael and I… I need you to promise me, to swear to me on your life that you will step up and raise our child as your own.”
“Amari—”
She stopped me, putting her index finger to my mouth. “Promise me.”
“Why me? You’re running away from this life and yet you trust me with your child?”
“Michael’s parents are old, and he’s an only child. You’re the only family I have. The evil you know is better than the evil you don’t.”
I nodded, murmuring, “I promise,” as I leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. I allowed my lips to linger for a few seconds. “Nothing will ever happen to you.”
She lovingly smiled. “I have to go. Michael is waiting for me.” Getting up, she went to the stairs without a second glance.
Walking away from her past to be with her future. Vanishing right before my eyes.
I needed to get the fuck out of there. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to clear the thoughts that were pushing me deeper and deeper down the black hole of life. I grabbed my keys and wallet from the kitchen counter and headed toward the front of the house, passing my father’s office on the way out. His door was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices on the other side.
“She got what she deserved,” Dad laughed, causing me to abruptly stop.
I thought the moment my mother took her last breath would forever haunt me, an image that was carved into my mind till the day I die. But the next words out of my father’s mouth killed me completely.
“Sorry for taking so long to contact you, I had a lot of heat on my shoulders, but I just want to thank you for taking care of business. They both got what they deserved. The bitch should have known better than to betray me. She came from nothing, she had no clothes on her back, and I gave her everything she yearned for. And she paid me back by fucking her bodyguard? The puta deserved every last bullet she got,” he confessed, with nothing but amusement in his voice.
Destroying the last part of my humanity and my soul.
A lot had changed in the last few months. Amari and Michael left a few days after our altercation, leaving behind all the bad memories, including me. She left without saying goodbye. Not so much as a note to tell me where they were going. But I had my ways to keep tabs on them. They were living in Washington, playing fucking house. Amari was a housewife who devoted her hours to charity work, and Michael got a job with an import/export company. My father didn’t even bat an eye when I told him they got married at a courthouse while he was handling business in Colombia. I never spoke of the day I learned the truth. I let him go on pretending to be a grieving widower and me a devoted son. Even though I wanted nothing more than to end him.
I moved into my own penthouse in Manhattan, similar to the one my father owned. The whole top floor was mine. I wanted privacy now more than ever. It was a spacious seven-thousand-square-foot penthouse that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the east wall with French doors that opened to a private balcony. I spent most of my time sitting out there, breathing in the city that never slept.
Exactly like me.
They say your body gets used to whatever it’s given. It’s our natural form of survival. Adaptation in its truest form. I was lucky if I slept two to three hours a night, never fully reaching the deep sleep phase. The faintest sounds woke me during the night. I was always looking over my shoulder, unable to trust anyone in this life.