Drug Lord

“How far away does your brother live?”

“Not very.”

He let go of my hand to put his hand on my waist, bringing me close. He smelled fresh and clean. He was warm in the cool air of Quito. We walked at a leisurely pace on the sidewalk.

Then we were in front of a fancy hotel.

“He lives here?” I knew that Emilio was wealthy, but living in a hotel seemed like a strange choice.

“Why doesn’t he live with you?”

Emilio pressed his lips together. We were quiet for a few seconds.

“We don’t really get along,” he admitted finally.

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

I wondered if he looked like Emilio — the same dark hair, dark eyes, and killer cheekbones — or if he looked like their other parent.

I was about to find out.

We walked up to the door of the hotel. The doorman didn’t even question Emilio’s presence.

He just nodded at us and opened the door.

“He knows you?”

“I don’t come here very often to see Alejandro, but I make a point to know anybody who might be important.” He took in a breath as if he were about to say something else, but he didn’t say anything.

Weird.

We got into a very pretty elevator with mahogany panels and gold-edged mirrors. I checked my hair. The plus side of being so high in the mountains was that the humidity didn’t make my hair frizzy. It was pretty dry up here.

Ding. The elevator had arrived.

Emilio held the door as I walked out of the elevator. The carpet was thick enough to make me sink a little bit into it. This hotel was pretty nice.

Emilio went up to a door and knocked on it.

“Who’s there?” His voice was higher than Emilio’s.

“Open up,” Emilio commanded.

“Joder,” I heard him say before the door opened.

He looked like Emilio, although he was much more slender and maybe a few inches shorter.

His eyes were bloodshot. “Come to lecture me, big brother?”

He let us in.

The hotel suite was clearly trashed. Yes, the furniture and fixtures were just as nice as you’d expect in a hotel, but they were covered in dirty dishes and what looked like flour.

“I thought that they cut you off. Who sold you? Who would dare?”

“None of your people,” Alejandro sneered. “I had to find another supplier.”

I saw little plastic baggies with a Greek omega symbol on them. Emilio looked at what I was looking at. He picked up one of the baggies and took the white powder out, rubbing it between his fingers.