•~21~•

Up a spiral staircase and down an empty hallway, Fuchsia led Raul away from the party. She stayed ahead, while Raul followed closely behind. On entering a lavishly decorated parlor with an indoor balcony —Raul recognized the room as where Gerald usually entertained his guests— she stopped and faced him.

    "Yes?" Raul probed, when Fuchsia said nothing.

    "You look very handsome tonight." She finally said, dreamily.

    "Get to the point Fuchsia."

    "No one in that ball got anything on you."

    "Fuchsia!"

Closing her eyes, Fuchsia inhaled slowly. By the time she snapped her eyes open, her entire demeanor had changed.

    "You haven't been picking my calls." She accused Raul.

Raul raised his eyebrows. "My business line is to be used for business only."

    "You denied me your personal line. That is why I squeezed your business number out of my father's men." Fuchsia said sappily, lightly tapping her left crystal blue pumps on the tiled floor.

    "Stop calling it. You are posing a nuisance to MY men." Raul ordered.

Fuchsia sniggered and looked away. "Me? A nuisance? Now, now, Raul. That is no way to talk to a lady. You still know nothing after all these years." She mumbled the last sentence to herself, but Raul heard it clearly.

He was getting impatient. No matter where they were, no matter the conditions, as long as they were together, Fuchsia always found a way to tire him. He had tolerated her all these years because of his respect for her father, and his own family. However, both the respect and his family were long gone. Fuchsia was walking on thin ice, and she didn't even know it.

    "Why did you bring me here?" Raul asked, hanging on to the only shred of patience he had left.

    "To talk to you of course!" Fuchsia snapped, turning back to him. "I'm surprised you honored my invite. I guess something has changed, and I have a feeling it has something to do with the new hussy in your arms."

    "Keep the 'hussy' out of your mouth." Raul warned. "And we have nothing to talk about."

    "Yes we do!" Fuchsia exclaimed. "You need to tell me what you're waiting for. Why haven't you married me yet!?" She rushed forward and pressed her breasts on Raul's chest.

"Oh Roro." She wooed, drawing patterns around Raul's neck with her fingers. "We will make quite the couple, considering our wealth and looks. It will even benefit our individual organizations. I don't even care if you have other women. You can keep all the mistresses you want! And I will have my lovers too of course. But that is beside the point! The thing is, I want you to be my husband. And the advantages of me being your wife are endless."

What should he focus his anger on? The fact that Fuchsia had used the nickname she had made up for him in their childhood, and he had forever detested? Or her shamelessly begging him to marry her? Raul wondered.

His plan had been an utter failure. He'd expected Fuchsia, once she saw him walk into the ball with Karla, to give up. Raul never took his mistresses out, and certainly never flaunted them in high end events like this one. If he were ever to do so, it would send the message that he was serious with the woman. Shouldn't that message be enough to deter his admirers?

Taking Fuchsia's hands off his chest and using it to gently push her back, Raul said, "You were my brother's fiancée."

    "Your brother is dead!" Fuchsia screamed, rather insensitively. 

It was unsurprising for a woman as shallow as Fuchsia to use her fiance's death as an excuse to chase after his brother. And that woman had been loved dearly by her fiance, up to the point where his spirit was dying, even before his physical death.

What had Rico Valdez, the elder  brother of Raul Valdez, seen in Fuchsia Bernardo?

Raul clenched his fists. If the person before him had been a man, he would have wasted no time to land a punch in his face, as punishment for the sheer disrespect towards his late brother. But he would not stoop so low to hit a woman, even if the woman deserved it.

•~♥~•

Elegantly, Karla lifted a chocolate truffle from the buffet and placed it in her mouth. The creamy paradise on her tongue soothed her nerves. It shamed her, but even with her amount of experience in acting (she pretended to be what she wasn't often, in order to get close to her targets), a room full of criminals dressed in fancy gowns and tuxedo's still rattled her. Granted, she hid her anxiety well, but it was hard keeping calm when you knew that one slip up could cause your death.

    "Wanna dance?"

Karla turned to face a man wearing a  flirtatious grin with his hand stretched out. He was dark skinned and would have been considerably handsome, if he didn't have too many tattoos and dreadlocks that clearly didn't suit him. His brown skin brought out the glitter in the silver tooth gems he wore, making his smile charming in a street kind of way.

    "Del Nico is the name." He said, hand still outstretched.

    "Karla." Karla took his hand. She doubted there was an alternative.

He pulled her unto the dancefloor. Placing his palm on her lower back, he pressed her to himself. This Del Nico was quite brazen. They began swaying to the music.

    "Be my bitch." He said suddenly.

The request was a bit unexpected, and very alarming. It was apparent to Karla that Del Nico was trying to steal another gangster's woman. It didn't matter if a gangster loved his woman or not, having another gangster make a move on her was a grave insult, and usually resulted to war between gangs. To have an organization like the Valdezian Mafia against you had to be bad news, no matter the gang.

    "Excuse me?" Karla asked politely.

    "There ain't no white nigga that deserves your fine ass." Del Nico replied.

    "What if I like my fine ass where it is?"

Once Karla said it, she regretted it. Her question could make him furious, and for sure, a man as daring as he was will have no problem causing a scene in a ball. She needn't worry, because Del Nico simply went on talking.

    "Bullshit! That Raul nigga Spanish. You need an American who can show you how to enjoy the country."

    "You talk against Spanish, but your name is European." Said Karla, even though she didn't think he was European. His African American accent was too thick.

    "Nah. Del Nico just my hood name." He said. "Become my shorty and amma give ya the life you only dream about."

    "Aren't you worried about the Valdezian Mafia? Raul Valdez would be furious you know."

Del Nico smirked deviously. "Raul Valdez? He just a kid. Too young to be heading a mafia. My men handling him right now. He won't be alive by morning. And you won't too, if you say no to being my girl."

Things were starting to get very interesting. If what Del Nico was saying was true, then Karla's mission would be completed for her, and she would go back home without even being tied to Raul Valdez's murder. Nevertheless, it all seemed too good to be true. Karla would have to watch and see. For now, she had to focus on not ending up on Del Nico's kill list.

•~♥~•

    "Cmon Roro." Fuchsia rattled on. "We were always closer as kids. We are meant for each other. Rico was just a stepping stone for me to realize that."

Above, at the indoor balcony, hidden behind furniture, an arrow aimed for Raul's chest. 

TEASER: AT THE BERNARDO RESIDENCE IV