Page 36 of Cartel Rose (Jorge)

“Not ‘we,’chiquita. My men will make sure what needs doing gets done to keep it safe.”

“You won’t just throw it out, will you?”

I think I might vomit.

“No, Liesel, that isn’t what we’ll do.”

My brow furrows. “Do you need it for something? Is that why you’d preserve it?”

“For starters, that’s your father. I would never just throw him away. And I’m not sure what we may need going forward. I certainly won’t do away with anything.”

It’s only a few minutes before Jorge’s phone pings, and he looks toward the hotel room’s door. I shove my phone in my pocket, and Jorge takes long strides to the entryway table. He picks up the box and hurries to take it over to the suite’s workspace. I watch him take a place standing beside the dining room table.

I run my hands up and down my thighs, fearing they must be sweaty. I open the door just as my mom raises her fist to knock. Heidi is just behind her left shoulder, peering at mebefore shifting her gaze to the bodyguards. But mom’s focus is unwavering on me.

“Anneliese, who are these men?”

I step aside, opening the door wider. “Come in,Mutti. I will explain everything.”

We may speak German, but her tone doesn’t need interpreting. I inhale as my mother and sister walk past me, and I close the door behind them. Jorge steps around the table but doesn’t approach. Instead, he greets them in German.

“Hello, Mrs. Schlossberg, Ms. Schlossberg. I’m Jorge Diaz.”

I watch my mother’s face to see whether Jorge’s name means anything to her. I see no hint of recognition, but the confusion remains. Heidi stands beside me, shifting slightly to bump our arms together. It’s subtle, so our mom doesn’t notice. But Jorge’s gaze meets mine for a flash before he smiles at my sister, then looks back at my mother.

Heidi and I have been nudging each other like that since we were young children and wanted to communicate without our parents noticing. I glance over at her, and I know she wants to blurt out, “what the fuck is going on?” I don’t need her lips to move to hear her voice screaming in my head.

“Mutti, Heidi, Jorge is a potential client of mine.Mutti, you may recall Papa and I disagreed about their deal. Jorge is part of an influential international family. Something happened today, and I asked Jorge to help because I’m confident he has resources available to do that.”

I shift my gaze to Jorge, hoping he’ll pick up where I left off. I can feel a lump rising in my throat, and I’m not sure I can continue speaking without bursting into tears. He offers me a reassuring hint of a smile before he continues in German just like I did.

“When Anneliese returned from lunch today, there was an alarming package on her desk. She called me because she didn’tknow what to do. I believe being here together is the safest place for all three of you. The package Anneliese received made us aware someone assaulted your husband, Mrs. Schlossberg. I don’t know the extent of it, and I don’t know where he is right now. That means we know he’s been gravely injured, but nothing beyond that. I am using all my available resources to answer those questions.”

Jorge tries his best to be gentle as he explains what happened earlier. I can tell he’s struggling not to make light of the situation while not causing my mom and Heidi to panic.

My mother turns toward me. “What does he mean by assaulted?”

I open my mouth, but I can’t form any sounds. I shake my head and look back at Jorge. He steps closer and is within arm’s reach. I want nothing more than to burrow against his chest, but there’s positively no way I can do that with my family around.

Heidi leans forward. In a man, it would be an aggressive posture, but she’s shorter than I am, so it certainly doesn’t appear threatening when it’s directed toward Jorge.

“What the hell does that mean?”

Each word is clipped. I practically feel the fear and anger vibrating off of her. I know I can’t be a coward right now. I have to speak up.

“Heidi,Mutti, like Jorge said, when I came back from lunch today, there was a box on my desk. I don’t know who delivered it or where it came from, but...”

I take a deep inhale and gather whatever resolve I can muster.

“It was Papa’s hand. I know it was his because of his wedding ring.”

A heartbeat of silence greets my announcement. Then all hell breaks loose. I can barely distinguish my mom’s voice from my sister’s. They’re demanding answers to questions neither Jorgenor I have. I know we told them we didn’t know more than once, but it’s understandable that they want them now. I want them too.

“Anneliese, where is Papa’s hand? I want to see. I want his ring.”

I look at Jorge, and he gives a subtle shake of his head. I’m barely hanging on. I’m breathing so rapidly and deeply that my nostrils hurt.

“Mutti, I’ll make sure you get his ring, but right now it’s best if we leave things alone.”