“That’s okay. She’s had an extremely hard day.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Let her rest and I will see her in the morning,” Geno said, and after looking in on her and seeing that she was asleep, he went home.
The following morning, after the doctors made their rounds, Valencia had a visitor. And it wasn’t Geno.
“A Bela Valência.”
The sound of his voice made her cringe. He was Ezequiel Simmonds, an ex-guerrilla fighter turned enforcer for The Comodoro Cartel. When the Comodoro’s were at war against Barrera Iñíguez, they hired a group of mercenaries. However, with him being in control of the Venezuelan military, the guerrillas were easily crushed, Ezequiel went to work for the cartel, and they turned their attention to kidnapping.
Valencia met him when she moved to Brazil, and married Gustavo DeVerão in Rio de Janeiro a month later. During those early happier days, she thought that she would be spending fun-filled days and romantic nights in Rio with her handsome new husband. But three months after they were married, he moved her away from the glitz and glamor of the city, to his family’s hometown, Comodoro, in the Brazilian state of Mato Grosso. After that, everything changed.
“What are you doing here, Ezequiel?”
“I came to see you, of course, A Bela,” Ezequiel said, coming closer to the bed.
“How did you even know that I was here?”
“A little bird told me,” he said, taking a seat by the bed.
“Right. A little bird told you that I was in the hospital with food poisoning. Just once, can’t you just give me an honest answer?”
“How are you feeling after such an ordeal?”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I mean, first you are arrested and then you get food poisoning,” he said, holding up a finger for each occurrence.
“Just bad luck, I guess,” she said, wishing that he’d leave, or better yet, Geno would come and make him leave. I would love to see that.
“Or maybe it’s something else.”
“Like what?” Valencia asked, and Ezequiel stood up. Without answering her question, he walked over to the window and looked out.
“Beautiful day,” he said, and put his hands behind his back as he looked out. “Andrade is in the city. He asked about you.”
“Tell him that I said hello. How long is he going to be in the city?”
“He was not sure. He is looking to expand his hand rolled cigar business and was having problems getting parts. So, he is in New York looking for somebody to export the parts that he needs to Brazil. Perhaps if you were able to help him then perhaps your bad luck, as you call it, would change. I am sure that your family would appreciate it.”
Ezequiel turned, looked at Valencia, and then he smiled. He looked at his watch. “Unfortunately, I have to be going, A Bela Valência. You take care of yourself and I will see you soon.”
“I hope not.”
Valencia watched as Ezequiel left the room and was glad when he was gone. Now, Valencia, wasn’t stupid. She could clearly see the entire interaction for what it was: A threat. First, he hinted that her food poisoning was a result of her not doing what he had asked her to do, coupled with an opportunity for her to make it right by helping Andrade Ferreira, and get Ezequiel off her back.
“I am sure that your family would appreciate it,” she said mockingly, and reached for her phone to call Adrianna. “Asshole.” The call was sent to voicemail. She was about to call Pooja when there was a light knock at the door, and when it opened, Geno came in the room carrying a dozen red roses.
“Good morning, Vee,” he said, and all the hate, animosity, and anxiety that she was feeling a few seconds ago, melted away. “How are you feeling?” Geno asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, and handing her the roses.
Valencia inhaled the scent of the roses deeply. “I feel a lot better now, thank you for asking … and thank you for insisting that I come here.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Just glad you didn’t throw up in my car.”
“I came close a couple of times. If you had stopped short one more time, I promise you I would have sprayed your windshield.”
He pointed at her. “That was gross.”