Page 131 of Sins of the Orchid

“And after Amore?” I questioned.

“If she dies without children or a husband,” he started explaining. “It goes to the Andersons. It is the reason they want her dead. Her grandmother convinced her late husband to retract the offer to make her daughter’s husband head of the cartel upon his death.”

I bet Regina didn’t anticipate that by taking over the Perèz Cartel she’d bring the war to her front step. And to New York. She might have cost her daughter her life and her decision had put a target on her granddaughter.

Amore was a Venezuelan cartel princess. I couldn’t imagine Amore in the Cosa Nostra, never mind in the brutal cartel world.

I’d be damned if I let anyone get their hands on her.

CHAPTER46

Amore

DeAngelo and I, along with four other men, worked our way through the rainforest of Venezuela. It was hot, especially in the gear we wore. Summer months in the jungle were brutal. Killing Ulrich Anderson would be so much better in the goddamn winter.

In my black lightweight pants, black hiking boots, and a white, long sleeve cotton shirt, which at this point looked off-white and clung to my body, I blended in with the rest of the men. Except that I was smaller, much smaller and my hair was the only splash of color among us.

And then there was the smell. I wasn’t sure which was worse, the sweat or smell of the bug spray. I had so much repellent on, it was making me nauseous. But at least it kept the creepy crawlies and mosquitoes away.

We arrived in Venezuela last night and met a few locals that were more than willing to share what they knew. They provided information on the location of the orchids, deep in the jungle where nobody went. Except for them! The Anderson and Perèz Cartel. The moment the villager mentioned the orchids my heart turned to lead.

I couldn’t help but be paranoid. About everything. Taking the same road that I did almost eight years ago and costing these men their lives. The villagers claimed they wanted to overthrow the current men leading the cartel, causing havoc through their villages. Distrust was deep within me. You never knew whether it was a trap.

DeAngelo must have rubbed off on me by now. Or maybe my eyes were wide open, finally seeing clearly. George had sons that wanted to take over our family legacy. Fuck, if only they asked nicely and hadn’t killed my mother and their father, I’d have given it to them. Back then neither Mom nor I knew that Grandma had taken over. Well, now I did know, and I’d let hell freeze over before I let those bastards take over. I’d burn it all to ash.

This was the reason I didn’t belong among all this crap. Give me a billion-dollar fashion empire, board of directors, cranky models, and a dragon grandmother. I could handle that. This… not so much. But I’d made a promise and I intended to keep it.

My eyes scanned the area.

Orchids!

My step faltered, staring at the tree. The exotic scents, from spicy and strong to soft and flowery, perfumed the air. I’d recognize it anywhere. It was then I spotted them. The Orchids. Trees full of vines intertwining along the trunks and a variety of orchid flowers decorated them from top to bottom.

So beautiful. So wild. So deadly.I swallowed hard.I’m so sorry, Mom.

Goosebumps broke over my skin, despite the heat. The memories still hurt like hell. Her painful screams rang in my ears. It would be something that would stay with me forever. Until my own dying breath.

“Do you recognize anything?” DeAngelo asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I cleared the lump in my throat. “Yes. I believe we are on the right path.”

“Good. If the villager’s information is correct we are five minutes from the camp,” DeAngelo warned.

I nodded. To avoid detection, our helicopter had landed a good distance away and we’d had to hike through the jungle for the last twenty miles. Terrain was rough and despite being in good shape, my muscles complained. I was sore. Maybe it was the excess weight of the weapons and a knife, though I didn’t think so.

Dread hit me with each step as we approached the camp. Call it a premonition. Or maybe memories. It was hard to orient myself in the rainforest, everything looked alike. Except for the orchids. I distinctly remembered them being close to where we were captured. It was probably the reason this path looked more familiar.

I have been here before.

I took several steps towards a tree.Thetree. And that was when I saw it.

My initials. A.R.B. that George had carved into the tree right before we were captured by the Venezuelan Cartel.

“What is it?” DeAngelo asked in a low voice.

My hand traced the letters. How did I not remember him putting the wrong letter for my last name?

He wasn’t supposed to know I was Bennetti’s daughter. God, I didn’t know until I escaped. He thought I was his daughter, just as I thought he was my father. Yet, he’d carved a B at the end.