Chapter 5
Cinco pulled up to his father’s house, his red Lamborghini announcing his presence before he even stepped out of the car. When Sandoza had asked to see him, he hadn’t wanted to oblige the request, but refusal would reveal his hand. He couldn’t have that. His relationship with his father had been tumultuous throughout the years. Ever since Tan had met Iman years ago, Cinco felt like Sandoza had chosen water over blood. Resentment had been brewing for years. He walked into the house and wasn’t surprised to see Miguel there, sitting across from his father, both hunched over a game of chess.
Cinco waited, knowing better than to interrupt their intense concentration. Cinco smirked as he watched Sandoza move his chess pieces across the board. When Sandoza sat down at a chessboard, it was because he had an important decision to make. Finally, losing patience, Cinco said, “I don’t got all day.”
Sandoza ignored him and sat with his hands folded under his chin for another five minutes before he finally made a move. “Checkmate.”
Miguel chuckled and shook his head. “Checkmate indeed, my friend,” he said. He stood. “I’ll wait outside.” He paused and gripped Cinco firmly by the back of the neck. He had watched Cinco grow from a young boy to a reckless young man. “Learn some respect, sobrino.” He pulled him close, kissed his forehead, and then walked out, leaving the father and son to speak privately.
“What is this about?” Cinco asked.
Sandoza didn’t respond right away. Cinco knew that Sandoza’s silence was a way of forcing him to be patient. He gritted his teeth but remained silent, trying not to let his ego reveal his true intentions for his father.
“Sit down, Cinco,” Sandoza instructed.
“I’ll stand,” Cinco responded.
Sandoza chuckled. “You are so stubborn, son. I don’t know when you became this way. So angry. You could be great, Marcincio.”
“My name is Cinco.”
Sandoza shook his head. “The infamous Cinco. I liked you better when you were just my good old boy. Marcincio.”
“Yeah well he died with mi madre,” Cinco shot back.
Sandoza closed his eyes, knowing how much he had lost the day his dear wife took her last breath. The innocence of his only son had been lost with her. He hadn’t wanted this life for his children, but somehow they both were wrapped up in it. Tan had married a kingpin, and Cinco was itching to become head of the Sandoza Cartel. He couldn’t control the affairs of his daughter’s heart, but he could control whether or not Cinco reigned supreme.
“There will be some changes coming very soon. Some changes you may not like, Marcincio. I’m going to be taking a less visible role in the business. Iman will be taking my place as head of the Sandoza family.”
“That’s bullshit,” Cinco said. The monotone of his voice was simply the calm before the storm. The fire dancing in his eyes was enough indication that Cinco was in disagreement with Sandoza’s decision. “Iman ain’t family.”
“Iman is family, and he has a level head. He will need you at his side, as Miguel has been at mine all these years, but he will sit at the head of things. He will step into my shoes,” Sandoza said.
Cinco rushed towards his father. “You would choose him over your own son? Iman is family, but I’m blood.” Cinco spoke through clenched teeth as his brow dipped low in menacing disdain. He pulled up his sleeve and traced the length of his arm with his finger. “Your blood runs through my veins, and you’re bypassing me? I’m of your flesh, Papa. Your only son! You want me to play sidekick to that motherfucker and pretend like he didn’t take what was rightfully mine?!”
Sandoza pointed a finger at him, shaking it in chastisement. “This is why I can’t choose you. Look at you. You aren’t ready to sit on my throne, Marcincio.”
“It’s Cinco,” he shot back.
“A childhood nickname suits you. You’re still a boy. When you truly grow up, you will realize that my decision to put Iman in this position was made to save your life. There is more to this business than power and infamy. You make the wrong move, offend the wrong people, and you’re dead. You move recklessly now because you’re my son and my reputation forces others to think before they react to your antics. One day I won’t be here to protect you. One day, you’ll have to stand on your own name, and you’re not ready. You need Iman. He will balance out your ways. He is the brain behind your bullet.”
Cinco’s face was twisted in a scowl as his temper raged inside of him. If Sandoza had been anyone else … anyone else … he would be leaking blood by now. The sting of his father’s words seared his bitter heart. Cinco was jealous, he was insulted, he was a little boy wanting to hear the words you’re good enough from his father. It was something he had never felt, acceptance from Sandoza, and being passed over for Iman only intensified his hate. Cinco turned and stormed out the room, blowing air out his nose like a baited bull before slamming the door behind him.
As he made his way to his car he bumped into Miguel, who grabbed him sternly by the forearm.
“Cinco?” Miguel said, stopping him in his tracks.
“That motherfucker is not my father. A real father wouldn’t choose another man over his son,” Cinco stated through clenched teeth, venting.
Miguel pulled Cinco close. “You need to forget about that. You’re not supposed to know this, nobody is. Hell, he hasn’t even fully disclosed this to me, but I can put things together. Your father is sick. I don’t know exactly what is going on, but he’s been talking to doctors, he’s hiring a caregiver. She comes tomorrow to interview. Something is up. If he’s talking about letting Iman take over it’s because his health is fading. I just thought you should know. So that you have time to … make sure things are right between the two of you,” Miguel said.
Cinco snatched his arm away and started down the steps.
“Hey, Cinco,” Miguel called after him.
Cinco knew better than to ignore when Miguel beckoned. He was old-school cartel, treacherous and dangerous. Cinco turned. “There are men like Sandoza and Iman,” Miguel said, “and then there are men like you and I. Every king needs a right hand. It takes more than one man to run a kingdom.”
Cinco didn’t respond as he turned and retreated to his car, mind racing with thoughts of a takeover. Fuck being the hand; he wanted to wear the crown. Cinco wanted to be king.
Chapter 6
Cinco stormed into his home, deactivating his alarm and greeting the monstrous Rottweiler that sat loyally, waiting by the door. “Good boy, King,” Cinco said as he bent down and massaged the dog around the collar. “Take me to her, boy.” The dog took off through the house and Cinco followed until he found China huddled in a ball inside the steel dog cage.
Cinco had trained her, all right. Just like he had trained his dogs. She was now so loyal to him that she would do anything he requested of her, he was sure of it.
“Please let me out. I won’t run,” China whispered.
Cinco stood over the cage, looking down at her naked body. She had bled, peed, and defecated in the cage. He had made her sleep in it, eat in it. For so many days she had lost count. She had been inside it long enough for the bleeding welts on her back to scab over. “Please, Cinco.” Her lips quivered. Her fingers wrapped around the bars of the cage as she held her breath, hoping, praying that this time he would say yes. He said nothing, but he pulled the key to the lock out of his pocket and freed her. A tear fell from her eye, but she quickly swiped it away. Cinco reached in and gripped her by the hair, causing her to grimace as he snatched her from the cage.
King came alive, growling menacingly. “Down,” Cinco said. He was speaking to the dog, but it was China who dropped to her knees in fear. Her body trembled like a leaf. She didn’t want any problems. She just wanted out of this situation that she had gotten herself entangled in. Cinco smiled. He had her mind. Finally, she was realizing that she needed to play by his rules. This was his game of treachery and deceit. If she wanted to walk away with her life, she had to do him this one
deed. “Get up,” he said. As she stood, slowly, timidly, he nodded his head towards his master bathroom. “Go.”
She moved, as did King, and Cinco followed.
Cinco removed a 9 mm handgun from his waistband and nudged her forward, towards the shower. “Clean yourself. You try anything and I will blow your head off.”
She didn’t respond but moved into the glass-doored shower and turned on the water. She didn’t care if he watched her. She didn’t care that the killer dog was waiting to tear her to shreds. She was simply grateful for the water cascading down her body, washing away the filth.
Silent tears mixed with the water, but China didn’t let one whimper be heard. Her pretty little tears wouldn’t get her out of this. She had sold her soul to the devil. A little bit of paper had led her to a world of pain. Cinco was cashing the check that her ass had written.
To her surprise, he walked out of the bathroom and let her finish her shower alone. When she emerged, she held onto her towel for dear life, water pooling at her feet.
Cinco looked at her, ogling her frame and taking in her assets. He knew that she was forbidden fruit. Shiny on the outside but rotten on the inside. “It’s pretty bitches like you that fuck a nigga up every time,” Cinco said. “Get dressed.”
He walked out, leaving her alone and unbound, to her surprise. She looked at the blue scrubs that sat on the bed and frowned. She didn’t complain, however—at least they were clean. She hurriedly put them on—no panties, no bra, but she was just happy to be covered, shielded, unexposed.
She walked out of the bedroom to find Cinco standing in the door frame, arms stretched above him, gripping the wall as he leaned into her. Danger danced in his eyes. Greed dwelled in his heart. “This is how it’s going to work. You do what I say and I’ll let you leave here alive. I’ll even put something in it for you. I’ll give you fifty bands when you’re done.”
China didn’t flinch at the amount. She had made more money hustling bricks across the border for him, but she couldn’t complain. She would have walked away with nothing. She really just wanted her life back. She wanted to live. She didn’t want to die at the hands of Cinco. Not like Bree. She just wanted to start over.
“I’ll do anything,” she whispered.
“You have to do it right, though,” Cinco said. “Because if you get it wrong…” He let his words linger as he drew a finger across his neck. China’s hands went to her neck as her eyes bulged slightly. He would slice her from ear to ear, and she knew it. Her back was against a wall. The choices were not hers to make. There was only one thing to do: cooperate.
* * *
“You can do this, you have to do this,” China whispered, gripping the steering wheel as she approached the Sandoza estate. She gripped it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Anyone in their right mind would have just driven off. They would have used this opportunity to escape. It was the first time that she hadn’t been directly under Cinco’s watchful eye, but she couldn’t just take off. China knew that Cinco would find her, and if he couldn’t find her, then her family would pay the price. She had to end this once and for all. She had to do what she had to do to get herself out of Cinco’s clutches. Once and for all.
“Hola,” Raul said as he stepped out of the security booth and approached the car. China sat. Frozen. Eyes straight ahead. “¿Cómo se llama?”
China couldn’t even find the words to respond. She was zoned out. Freaking on the inside. This was her last chance to back out of this. All she had to do was put the car in reverse and start driving, but where would she go? Drive where? There was no distance far enough to stop Cinco from tracking her down to exact his revenge.
“Inglés? Español?” the guard asked as he leaned into the car, looking curiously and cautiously at her.
“English,” she finally said, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry. My name is Jamie. I’m here to see Mr. Sandoza.”
The guard nodded while staring at her. China felt the sweat dripping down her back. She was so nervous that her stomach churned and her hands shook, but there was no backing out now. “He’s expecting me,” she added, before swallowing the lump from her throat.
The guard opened the gate and she drove through it, sighing in relief. “My God,” she whispered, as she drove towards the massive estate. She knew Sandoza was a kingpin, but this was the type of money she read about in books. This was straight out of a gangster movie. Sandoza’s home was like a castle, and it was guarded as such. When she stepped out of the car, she was greeted by Miguel, who stood awaiting her.
“Hello, you must be Jamie,” he said.
She nodded, simply because she couldn’t find her voice.
“Lift your arms,” Miguel instructed.
“What?”
“No one walks inside without being searched. Open your bags and lift your arms,” he said.
His tone was inflexible, leaving her no choice but to comply. China lifted her arms and tensed as Miguel ran his hands down her body. He took his time, almost groping her as he searched her. Just as he was about to lift her shirt, she slapped his hands away. She wasn’t even concerned about modesty. She just didn’t want this man finding the bruises and scars Cinco had left on her body. Certainly the marks would make him suspicious of whom she really was. He smirked at her feistiness.
“Right this way,” he said, leading her inside.
She looked around in amazement at the opulence. It wasn’t until she heard the click of expensive shoes that she came down to earth. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into the eyes of the most handsome man she had ever seen. His olive skin was tanned and his physique well taken care of. He stood, not very tall, but taller than her, and dapper in Tom Ford. Dark eyes and salt-and-pepper hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail, accenting his clean-shaven face. She hoped he didn’t recognize her. This was the second time she had been in his presence. Although he had never even looked up at her when she was hanging in Cinco’s warehouse, she still felt exposed, as if he would suddenly point her out as a fraud.
“Hello Mr. Sandoza,” she said.
“Please, join me in my office. I’d like to conduct our business in private,” he said, wasting no time on introductions.
China followed, tugging at the ill-fitting nurse’s scrubs.
“You come highly recommended by Dr. Garcia,” Sandoza began. “I am looking for a nurse to take care of me as my condition worsens. I assume you have looked over my charts.”
“Umm,” China hesitated. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t a medical professional. She didn’t even know what was wrong with Sandoza, but still she nodded. “I have.”
“I will pay you exceptionally well for live-in care,” Sandoza said.
“Live-in? I … I can’t … I don’t know if…” She was stammering. Cinco hadn’t told her how to play this. Why didn’t he tell me what was wrong with his father? What am I supposed to say?
“Can I have time to consider this?” she asked, stalling because she didn’t want to respond incorrectly.
“Time is one thing I do not have, Jamie,” Sandoza said. “Perhaps this will help you come to a decision.” Sandoza went into his desk drawer and came out with two banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
China didn’t know if she should take it. Cinco had told her that everything with Sandoza would be a test. Sandoza was calculating, intelligent, and cunning. To kill a man as powerful as Sandoza without leaving behind traces of wrongdoing would not be easy. Fooling him would not be easy. First, he had to trust her.
“I can’t be bought, Mr. Sandoza. As I said before, I need to decide if I can commit to being here full time. I will go home and think it over. See if I can rearrange my other patients and find them care first. I will let you know when I decide,” she said. “Or I can recommend another nurse to you.” She didn’t know anything about health care, but she knew a lot about men. They wanted what they couldn’t have … what wasn’t easily attainable.
“I don’t want
another nurse. I hear you are the best. Top of your class at Michigan State, Johns Hopkins for three years before relocating here in Mexico. You don’t look a day over thirty, but you’ve accomplished quite a bit in your medical career. I was expecting someone very different.”
China wasn’t even twenty-one yet; she was grateful that he was buying the story.
“I will wait for your answer. I just hope it is a yes,” Sandoza pushed.
China gave him a smile and then rose to her feet. Sandoza frowned as he stood and approached her. He stood so close that China could smell the musk of man mixed with expensive cologne. She tensed, with bated breath. She could feel the power emanating off of him. He was intimidating without using malice, a technique his son had not yet learned. Sandoza didn’t need to beat his chest. He was a boss. It went without saying.
He touched the V-neck of her scrubs. “You have blood on you,” he said. China’s eyes widened as she quickly replied, “Oh, I’m sorry. I had a nosebleed earlier. I thought I cleaned up.”
She backed towards the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamie,” Sandoza said.
“We’ll see, no promises,” China rebutted.
China’s feet couldn’t carry her out of there fast enough. She hopped in the car and drive away calmly, despite the fact that her heart was racing at the speed of thoroughbred horses. When she was out of Sandoza’s gates, she pressed her foot down on the gas as tears streamed down her face. She didn’t notice the car pull up behind her, keeping pace with her high speed.
HONK! HONK!
“Agh!” she screamed. She didn’t slow down as her eyes shifted to the rearview mirror. She lost control and pulled recklessly off the road, overwhelmed and scared shitless. She saw Cinco pull off behind her and hop out of his car. He pulled her door open and yanked her out.
“Where you going huh? You trying to run away? I didn’t teach you last time?”
“No! No! I’m not running! Why is there blood on these scrubs?” she asked as she snatched her arm away from him. “Your father pointed it out to me!”
Luxury and Larceny, Part 2 Page 3