The Devil's Desire

LUCIANA VARGAS

I can't shake off the strange feeling in my gut. Am I expecting bad news? Yes. Considering what my life has become lately…

It's not every day you realize your life has been a mystery. That everyone around you has been keeping secrets. Secrets that involve a huge part of your entire existence. My mind is flooded with thoughts of recent revelations as I drive back home.

It's a miracle when I get home without causing an accident.

However, the environment that greets me is nothing like what I’d expected. I didn't have a clear vision of my expectations, but it's definitely not a semblance of peace, with everyone acting normal.

Paula, my nanny, had called about half an hour ago. She sounded strange.

“Something happened to your mother,” she’d said, stuttering.

Then she hung up immediately. I tried to call back a few seconds later, but it went straight to voicemail. Strange, right?

Why would she tell me that, and then go silent? My mind can’t be at peace. Which is why I’m still puzzled. This looks like a normal day at the Vargas Manor. No signs of a bizarre situation. A few guards walking around with guns–yeah, that’s normal for us. Others, holding their guns, standing alert at various entrances.

Ignoring all the normal activities, I walk into the manor in a rush.

The inside of the house isn't any different from the outside. Everything is just as typical.

I'm confused for a minute. The maids are walking around, performing their duties. Maybe there would be lots of whispers of a recent strange incident?

Okay, perhaps I’m the one who's overthinking. What if mother just fell ill? I know she's the last person I should be worrying about, but I can’t help it. I still find reasons to care, despite the recent discoveries about my parents. Discoveries that I’m still trying to process.

Mother is not in her room.

I search for Paula in different corners of the house, but she's nowhere to be found.

When I ask the other workers, all of them tell me almost the same thing.

“I saw her leave a while ago.”

“I haven't seen her since morning.”

“Paula? I have no idea.”

“We rarely talk.”

Urgh..

Something is wrong, but I can't place it. Paula called to tell me about mother, and she's not home. And where's the said mother? And why isn’t anyone telling me anything?

I lean on the kitchen counter when I remember one place I haven't visited. The study.

Surprisingly, my father is around. For someone whose wife I'm worried about, he looks so calm working. He lifts his head, shifting his attention from the paperwork on his desk.

“What's going on?” I ask, not taking a seat.

He takes off his reading glasses. A few seconds pass before he answers. Like he's been thinking hard about my question.

“Thank goodness you’re here. I thought you’d never come back.”

In case you think my father is relieved to see me back home because he’s been worried, you’re wrong. We’ve had a strenuous relationship for a while now. I might as well call myself an asset in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I narrow my eyes. “Where’s Paula? And where's…mother?”

He clears his throat and rests his elbows on the desk. His nonchalance should be the final indication that mother is truly okay.

“My wife is fine,” he confirms. “She's running errands to make sure the plan goes perfectly.”

I blink a few times. Genuinely confused.

“What plans?” I ask.

“Plans to save the family. We're in danger, Luciana. Dario Morata won't stop till he's eliminated all of us. Which is why we need to make some things happen.”

“You know we wouldn't be in this situation if you were a kind human. How could you—”

“I don't have time for this, Luciana,” he cuts me short. “You've been so disobedient. I've tried to be patient. By now, we both know, that’s not a virtue I possess. I tried with you.” He points out.

This has got to be the most ridiculous thing I've heard today.

“Disobedient?” I gasp, gripping the nearby chair.

“You just don’t get it.” He massages his temples. “The Moratas and the Vargas can never co-exist. I’ll not let you betray us, at the climax of a deadly war.”

“Betray you?” I laugh. “You expect me to side with you after what I just discovered?”

“Then you leave me no choice. Boys!” He yells.

It takes a few seconds to realize the last part wasn't for me. Three beefy men walk into the room to join us.

After a short glance, I turn back to my father.

“What's this?”

“Part of the plan. Something to make sure you stick to our side.”

“What?” I almost laugh. I can’t believe I was still holding a tiny bit of hope for my family. I never learn, do I?

“Do you know who came up with this genius plan?”

I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know, but he’s going to tell me anyway.

“Vicente.” He announces, with a proud smile.

“That evil traitor,” I snort.

“It’s going to work like a charm. You’ll see. I told you that guy was smart after all.” He adds.

What does my father see in him? He’s a manipulative bastard. It won’t be long before he stabs him in the back. That shouldn’t be my concern right now. My father’s words are alarming.

“I hate to admit it, but Dario Morata is a smart man. The moves he’s pulled—” He shakes his head as an evil laugh escapes his lips. “Which is why, if we're going to win this war, we'll have to think smarter to beat him to it.”

What’s this big plan? And why does it feel like Dario is in danger? I should warn him, right? I suddenly feel the need to get out of this place. Go back to him. Warn him of the impending danger. He’ll definitely find a way to counter-attack. However, my father’s next words leave me stunned.

“Paula, is okay, for now. But, whatever happens to her next, is entirely dependent on you.”

My heart sinks. A million possibilities swirl through my brain. What plan has my diabolical father cooked?

“What have you done—”

“Take her away,l.” He orders before I can probe.

The next thing I know, a hand grabs me from the back. Before I can retaliate, another hand covers my mouth and nose, using a wet cloth. It has a sharp smell that isn’t friendly to my nose. I grab the man’s wrist, fighting for my dear life. My energy isn't anything close to his. I groan in frustration.

I struggle to break free for a while—in vain.

Then I see black.

*

*

*

THREE MONTHS AGO...

I’m sinking into a bottomless pit. The harder I try to fight my way back up, the faster I am sucked into the void, like a vortex from which I cannot escape.

My savior is only an inch out of reach. I try to grasp his hand, but just as our fingers brush, two mean-looking men the size of polar bears appear beside him, and one lands his beefy hand on my savior’s shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they are gone, and I fall rapidly into the darkness.

“Luciana,” a gentle, yet panicked voice whispers in my ear. “Wake up.”

I jolt up as I force my eyes open. Through my haze, I notice a familiar figure sitting on my bed.

“Dylan?” I whisper, blinking the drowsiness away.

She makes a show of looking down at her chest. Last time I checked, I was a woman and my name is Paula.

Her joke is lost in the void, much like I was in the dream I just woke up from.

“Are you having nightmares again?” She feels my forehead.

Nightmares…is that what it was? It felt so real. I know dreams are insane and often make no sense, but it felt like much more than that.

Paula shuffles out of my room and returns with a glass of water and painkillers.

“I’m fine,” I tell her.

“What you are is far from fine if you're having nightmares, Luciana,” she says sternly, practically shoving the water in my face so I can drink it.

It’s only when I take the first sip that I realize how thirsty I am, and I end up gulping the whole thing in a few huge swings.

The recurring nightmares only worsen when I’m stressed, and between trying to save my family's company and several clients canceling on me, the last few weeks have been hectic. I’d explain this to Paula, but she would still make a mountain out of a molehill.

When I try to get out of bed, she presses my shoulder down. “You need to rest, young woman. You were up working late last night.”

I give her the look that lets her know not even chains of steel can keep me down. She gives up but says, “Have some breakfast, at least. I’ll make you some of those sunny-side-ups you love and if you say no, I’ll shove them down your throat.”

I smile. She's talking about the sunny-side-ups she used to make, with pineapple pieces on the edges. With two strawberries on the face and a banana a few inches beneath them, my breakfast plate would resemble a smiling sun.

She’s one of the best things that have ever happened in my life, even if she thinks I’m still six.

I’ve freshened up by the time Paula returns with my breakfast, and I’m sitting on the couch, pondering a new strategy.

She places the plate on the coffee table before me as she mutters, “If this is about Vicente again…”

I laugh at her unfinished threat.

“That's water under the bridge, Paula.”

She nods and leaves, but her words linger in my mind. Vicente who?

I’m trying to save a famous multimillion-dollar company—it may be on the verge of bankruptcy but it used to be the only real estate agency anyone worth mentioning would look to.

Am I grasping at straws?

I know I am. Vargas Real Estate is a sinking ship and my efforts will probably go to waste. But if it keeps me from thinking about my traitorous ex-boyfriend, it's a welcome distraction.

_________

I’m about to head off for work, but not before having a word with my dad. I walk to his study.

He's been juggling between reviving VRE and the new Construction Company project he's been working on for months.

He calls that his Plan B.

He’s on the phone when I poke my head in, but he waves me over and ends the call soon after.

“Looks like I’m not the only one pulling all-nighters around here,” I tease, nodding to the documents strewn all over his desk. One of us is going to give the worrisome Paula a stroke.

“Just an early bird.” He adjusts the rims of his glasses. I realize he has grown a few more wrinkles in the last few weeks, and it gnaws at me. I need to put VRE back on its feet pronto.

“So,” I take a seat. “Caught any worms, yet?”

“Someone got to it before me.” He knits his brows in frustration, but attempts a smile when he looks at me. “How’s it going with you?”

“Same old. It must be because I wasn't the early bird.” I attempt a joke to lighten the mood, but the situation is too dire to be pushed under the rug.

He doesn't ask for details but his disappointment is apparent—not in me. I know he blames himself somehow when none of this is his fault. Times change, and we just happen to be on the wrong side of it this time.

I promise myself to revive VRE by hook or crook.

______

When I enter my office, my secretary follows me in, and I look at her over my shoulder.

“You look like you have good news for me. Did some billionaire perhaps get redirected to the wrong website and end up booking an appointment with us?”

She winces through a forced smile and I don't need a verbal answer. We have been too down on our luck for such a miracle to happen.

“So what grenade exploded in our kitchen this morning?” I ask as I sit at my desk, as if that will help me brace for the inevitable bad news.

“The Coopers’ attorney sent a contract termination letter.”

“How could they? It's not even been—” never mind. There's no point arguing. It was bound to happen sooner or later, as usual.

Sofia is still standing before me, her clipboard clutched tightly close to her chest.

“Anything else?” I probe.

“Someone has been waiting for you in the conference room.” She mutters, sneaking a glance at the door like she's ready to bolt out in avoidance of my wrath.

She’s acting quite strange for someone who's worked for me so long that we've become more like friends than boss and employee.

“Is it the Grim Reaper or something?”

“I think you should see him for yourself,” she says and quickly retreats.

“Give me ten minutes and then let him in,” I tell her.

I use the time to check my emails in case I've missed anything.

So far, my inbox is exactly the way I left it—as empty as my ex boyfriend’s ability to come up with a believable excuse.

I'm sailing in ship of thoughts when the door cracks open. I expect Sofia to be back with more news but what meets my eye is someone I would rather poke my eyes out than see.

“What are you doing here, Vicente?”

“My morning has been great. Thanks for asking.” He struts in like he owns the place, as though I owe him a second out of my busy day.

Can we reverse time back to when Sofia announced someone was here to see me? I would prefer meeting the grim reaper to this dork, thank you very much.

He makes himself comfortable in the seat opposite me, usually reserved for clients. If I knew he was coming, I would line it with cactus.

“I have a solution to your problems,” He offers, opening his arms wide and glancing down at his chest. “Me.”