Page 10 of Doxed

I type the address into the navigation system in my Rivian and wait for the route to pop up.

The address is a private airport, but not the same one that we use to get to La Lujuria.

I pull up to the private jet and get out.

A man stands at the base of the stairs holding a sign with my name on it.

I guess this is how I’m getting to California.

He takes my LV weekender bag from me when I step up to the stairs and I take them inside. The plane is sleek and lavish inside. Wide plush chairs, a long couch with a fluffy blanket folded up at the foot, and a soft cream carpet.

I stand at the front of the plane in awe, and the sight of the flight attendant brings me back. “Ms. Anderson,” she greets. “Is there anything I can get you?” She motions me in and I take a seat on the couch.

“Bottled water, please?” I ask. “I think I’m going to take a nap.

” I sit on the couch and sink in. The rich scent of Carlos surrounds me, and I feel comforted.

The attendant nods and walks toward the front of the plane.

I’m curled up on the couch under the blanket and falling asleep before she even returns with the bottle.

I sleep the entire flight, and only wake when we’re descending. A black SUV waits for me on the tarmac, a suited driver standing at the back door.

I watch the rolling hills as we drive. It’s beautiful here. “Senor Vicario is busy with an associate, but he asked that I show you to the room you’ll be staying in tonight. He’s had stylists and beauty people sent in for you.”

“He what?” I turn my gaze from the window to the man in the front seat driving me.

“There are stylists with dresses for you to choose from and people to do your hair and makeup? Yesenia will join you to get ready for the dinner,” he says, his gaze switching between me and the road in front of us.

“Are both of the twins here?” I ask, paying attention to the driver now instead of the scenery passing us.

“Yes,” he answers. “Yesenia got in last night from Japan, and Mateo flew in this morning from the Maldives.” Nodding absently, I turn my attention back to the window.

We climb a large mountain. The town sitting down in the valley gets smaller and smaller the higher we climb. Looking through the front windshield, I'm able to see a sprawling stone mansion. The architecture is older and classic. It screams Carlos.

We pass through the open gates with armed guards standing on both sides of the opening.

The driver stops the car in front of the large double doors, and steps out, coming around to my door and opening it for me.

I wait for him by the car while he grabs my duffle from the trunk, and I follow him into the house.

When stepping through the front doors, large double staircases lead to the upper floor, and marble tile flows through the foyer.

Tall matching marble pillars reach to the second floor.

On the other side of the foyer is a large living space with vast floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook a large backyard with green grass and the mountains that surround the one we’re on.

It feels like we’re in a castle in the clouds.

“Ms. Anderson.” The driver interrupts my staring. “Yesenia and the ladies are waiting for you upstairs.” His voice is gentle.

I shake myself out of my daze and turn around to see him standing at one set of stairs. “Right. Sorry.” I hurry to him and follow him to the second floor and down one of the long hallways.

He pushes the door open and I step inside of a large room—twice the size of my apartment—and all chatter stops.

The room becomes suffocatingly quiet. There’s a bed on the back wall with thick cream bedding and lots of large pillows, a stone fireplace that’s as tall as me is on the wall to my left, next to an open wall that leads to a balcony—I’m assuming there are pocket doors there that are slid into the wall to open up the space.

In front of the open wall is a woman sitting in a tall chair with several women surrounding her.

One person does her nails, another is sitting and doing her toes that are propped up on an ottoman, one is doing her makeup, and another is behind her, doing her hair.

My driver walks past me and places my bag on the bed, and at the sound the woman holds up her free hand and the ladies stop what they’re doing.

Yesenia turns in her chair to look at me.

Her long black hair hangs down her back like a waterfall—pin straight—and her hazel-green eyes look me up and down before landing on my face.

She has every bit of Carlos’ intimidation—she exudes power—and she knows it.

“Come sit, let’s get to know each other,” she finally says, turning around and letting the stylists continue working on her. Her accent is beautiful and her words are sharp, not an ounce of warmth in them.

Taking a deep breath, I walk to the empty seat beside her and sit down, my own team of stylists fuss over me while a woman carts a rack full of dresses in front of me.

Yesenia turns to me, her eyes narrowing as she looks me over again. “I think hair up, and the nude cage dress.” She points to a dress on the rack in front of me. “Yes?” she asks, staring at me impatiently.

“Uh,” I pause and look over at the dress that the woman is pulling from the rack.

It’s a long nude gown with a plunging neckline and thin straps over the shoulders.

Running over the edges of the gown are glittering lines, continuing onto the skirt in a checkered cage design.

Beaded flowers adorn the gown over the skirt and onto the bodice, covering the breasts.

The dress has a completely open back, and the flower appliques will cover my ass.

“It’s beautiful,” I finally say, admiring the gown as the woman shows it off for me.

“Great. Red nails. No,” Yesenia pauses, pursing her plump lips.

“A deep green to match the leaves on the dress.” The other women around me nod and get to work.

I don’t mind Yesenia choosing what the professionals do.

She knows what tonight is about better than I do, and I like her style.

Everything she chose is something I would have chosen for myself.

“Intimacy” by Alex Kehm plays softly from speakers in the ceiling.

“You’re younger than I expected,” Yesenia says, her eyes closed as the makeup artist sweeps a thick wing of eyeliner across her eye.

I look at her out of the corner of my eye, not able to turn my head without disturbing the woman starting on my makeup.

“But my father speaks highly of you, so I’m excited to get to know you. ”

“Your father told me a lot about you. I think we’d get along.” I hope we’ll get along, because Yesenia does not seem like the type of person you want against you. I feel like she could kill someone with just a look.

Yesenia’s lips pull into a small smile that I almost miss. “Yes, he said we’re a lot alike. That sounds dangerous for father, very expensive.”

“Do you work for your father’s company?” I ask, hoping to move the conversation away from Carlos and I’s relationship, not that we really have a relationship. I'm not exactly sure what is going on with us.

Yesenia turns to me, completely ignoring the woman working so close to her eye.

She runs her eyes down me again and then smirks, facing forward again and closing her eyes once more.

“Father is very old-fashioned and doesn't think women are fit to lead, but he’ll see after tonight that I’m the right choice to take over the… company.”

“Is he wanting to put Mateo in charge over you?” I ask, as the woman doing my makeup moves to my eyes and the woman doing my hair twists my hair into a low bun.

“Yes, but Mateo is incompetent. If it doesn't have a pussy, he doesn't know what to do with it.” I hold back my laughter because I can tell Yesenia is upset. “He doesn't even want to be in charge.”

“So, this is a business dinner?” Why the hell am I here? Surely Carlos didn’t bring other girls from the club here for entertainment? I hadn't heard other girls talk about it, and wouldn't I be getting ready with them if there were more of us here?

“No, it’s a personal dinner for my dad’s birthday, but new business is always a magnificent gift.” She pauses and I can only assume she looks over at me again, but I can't see since my eyes are closed while the artist applies a long, wet coat of eyeliner to my lids. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No, he just said where to meet the jet,” I answer.

Yesenia chuckles. “Typical father.”

Yesenia and I chat more while the ladies finish our makeup, hair, and nails.

Yesenia looks beautiful with a glitter cat eye with thick black liner and black and silver jewels layered on top.

She chose a long black gown with a scoop neck and skinny straps.

The dress has thick black lines of sequins running down the dress.

Downwards on the bust, sideways over the hips, and downwards again on the legs.

It has a slit up the middle of the front and a plunging back, exposing her entire tanned back, stopping just above her ass. She looks stunning. Sexy and powerful.

The woman doing my makeup gave me a long wing with black eyeliner, and then smoked it out with a red eyeshadow, then used a red eyeliner to line my waterline and run over my inner corner of my eye.

I love how dramatic she went and the beautiful pops of red against my skin.

Yesenia slides on a pair of clear heels with a black back and heel while I sit on the edge of the bed and fasten a pair of nude, strappy Manolos with silver crystal embellishments over the straps.

“Come on.” Yesenia offers me her hand. “No one will bother you if you’re with me or my father.”

I stand from the bed and link my arm with Yesenia’s, and she leads us out of the room. I guess I’m about to find out why I’m here.