his decision. Amara will make a perfect leader alongside my son. Do you disagree?” Ah. My father is waiting to see if he will cast disrespect our way, in which case will grant us permission to shoot him.
Cesar shakes his head and picks up the tequila in front of him, pouring himself another serving, he shoots it back. “Ah, no my friend. I simply think we could have made a great alliance here. Do you not?”
“Who says we cannot still do so? I have two more sons. Angel and Javier.” My father reminds Cesar, who smirks wildly.
“Angel, what will he do when you pass?” This is no one’s business outside of the familia.
“That is for us to know,” My father replies, smirking. “Though, if you’re asking my opinion, I believe Angel is the better choice. He has a . . . certain way with women. A kinder heart, which any father would want for his daughter, no?”
“Mmm, yes. But, I expect a man to be able to defend her as well.”
“He will have no problem doing that.” I speak up. Angel is extremely talented when it comes to shooting. He’s taken down teams of ten by himself.
“He will fit well with my Beatriz.” Cesar states, smirking widely. Beatriz is his eldest daughter, about twenty-three . . . but this will not do. We are Mexican-Catholics. He didn’t marry Beatriz’s mother. Surely father knows this information.
“No, Fatima.” My father speaks up. “Fatima is Ana’s daughter, yes?”
“Yes,” Cesar answers through clenched teeth. “Fatima is but a teenager, nineteen. Beatriz is almost twenty-three. She would be a much better fit.”
“Ah, no. This is not how this meeting will go, my friend. Fatima is your only daughter you had with your wife, therefore she will be the heir of the Guatemalan Cartel, no?”
My father is pushing Cesar into a corner. Cesar clears his throat. “I had assumed we could come here today and establish an arrangement which would benefit both parties. Beatriz was to be married off to one of your boys and Fatima would take the reins when the time comes.”
“Fatima will take the reins and be married to Angel.” Father states, now drinking his tequila.
Cesar takes in a deep breath and slowly exhales. He knows he doesn’t really have a choice to begin with. Cesar’s brother stole their entire family’s fortune except for a small bit and fled to the United States. They don’t know where Guillermo is now, though I’ve personally heard talk about Guatemalan gangs causing trouble in Los Angeles. Since Cesar’s brother has been causing problems, many smaller cartels are now deciding to cause trouble in his country. It’s simply retaliation. Though, it’s something Cesar can’t take for long. He won’t survive it unless he has an ally like us.
“It appears we will be familia soon, eh!” Cesar rises from his chair and walks around to give my father a hug and pats him on the back.
“I will get our lawyer to draft up the contract tonight and we’ll both meet in the morning to sign it before you head back.” Father tells Cesar.
“May I suggest something?” I state, looking to both men as I stand. In a few moments I’ll take my leave and go see my brother. If he’s going to hear this news, it might as well be from me.
“Certainly,” Father answers.
“Cesar, you seem worried that Fatima is so young. So, why don’t we put a clause in the contract that she will not be married to Angel until her twenty-third birthday? This way it will ease your worries and allow the girl to get some things out of her system before she marries my brother.” In reality, I’m doing this for Angel. It will give him four more years before he’s trapped forever.
“I like this one. Such a shame he will be married off.” Cesar jokes, smacking my father on the back yet again.
“We will add this clause if it makes you feel better.” Father says to Cesar, who gives his immediate nod.
“Well, I must get going. I have quite a bit to get done.” I state, making my goodbyes and head out of the restaurant quickly. I don’t mean to be so rushed, though it is better if I get to the house as soon as possible.
Within a matter of ten minutes I’m pulling past the gate of our estate. I park the car in the garage and spot Angel smoking a cigar out back by the pond. I approach him slowly, trying to