Chapter 2 A Very Dangerous Homecoming

Elena's POV

I arrived in Valencia yesterday, and the first thing I had to do this morning was come to my garden, but what is before me right now is beyond heartbreaking. My Valencia garden is dying.

This is where my love for plants started. I planted some of these with my dad when I was seven, and over the years my dad always sent me pictures of how they had been thriving. Sometimes he even teased that the plants here were doing better than the ones I had in my greenhouse in Pinecrest. What I am looking at now is the exact opposite.

My plants have been abandoned, and that is surprising because I have a gardener on payroll.

But I wish it was only the dying jasmine that was making my chest tighten. I wish it was how my favourite plant, the Heliconia, had dropped its head into the soil that was making me uneasy, but it wasn't just that. Ingrid's last conversation. The betrothal, the contract, the entirety of it all made bile curl down my belly.

About five years ago, a few months before I turned seventeen, my dad had brought me down to Spain. I had been so happy thinking I was coming back home and calling to tell Ingrid. But we didn't come here to Valencia. When we got to Spain, my father took me to an unfamiliar mansion, and in that house a man welcomed us. He was way older than my papa. They both smiled and talked, then Papa asked me to sign two papers. I asked him why, and he said it was a marriage contract. I was confused. Was I marrying this old man? My dad must have sensed my fear because he immediately told me I was marrying the man's nephew, a mafia boss, and he wasn't around. Still confused, I signed on the spaces for my name. I didn't dare read the other contents of the paper. I just wanted to go home. But instead of coming here to Valencia, we returned back to Pinecrest. Dad kept his copy in his safe. I know where it is. I know the combination. But I have never gone to read it. I want to live a little with this fantasy of normalcy, even if it was a lie.

But then Ingrid brought it up. Now I'm in Spain. What if this man comes for me? What if my freedom is over? I had always dreamt of being in a mind-blowing romance with a dominant man, being claimed, but this is different. I know enough about how marriages in the mafia are conducted. Love is not a requirement in these kinds of arrangements.

A sharp spike of fear jolts through my heart. God, please, at least let me celebrate with my family. Let me spend time with my mom and sister before I face any of these. Please, please. Someone coughing at my behind jerks me from my deep thoughts. I turn to see who decided a cough was the best way to announce their presence instead of the good old 'hello'.

It's Camila, one of my father's oldest workers. She nurtured me as a child.

"Good morning, Camila."

"Good morning, Miss Elena."

"I wanted to give you this."

She places a rainbow bracelet in my hand.

I couldn't believe it. It was the bracelet my dad gifted my mom. My mom didn't like it and she threw it away.I picked it up from the trash and It was my favourite bracelet, but I must have left it back. All these years and its trinkets still dazzled. I wear it on my right wrist.

"I found it when I was cleaning your room. I thought you would want it," she says.

"Oh, Camila. Thank you so much."

"You are welcome." She turns to leave.

"Wait, Camila, please... Why is my garden like this?" I wave my hand to point out the catastrophic combination of weeds and dying plants standing in front of us. "Where is the gardener? I have not seen him since I arrived yesterday."

Camila sighs.

"After your papa passed," she pauses, "your mama fired him."

"Wait, what?" I query.

She nods.

"No, Camila. My mom never told me she fired anyone. In fact, she requested more hands on the estate, and I approved the money for their wages."

"Yes, she employed a few workers, but she fired Raphael, the gardener. Only Raphael she fired. And when we tried to keep the garden, to water... to weed it, your mama was very angry. I know your papa loved this garden. He made sure it was kept."

My heart is pounding. No. Camila must be making this up. It's not possible.

"Your mama and your sister Beatriz don't love this garden... Beatriz struck that plant over there with a stick."

I move slowly in the direction she is pointing. Just as I feared, my Heliconia has its head bent into the soil in a way that weather doesn't usually bend plants. It definitely could not have been done by wind. But it wasn't possible. Camila must have seen wrong. I stare at her, looking for any sign she is kidding, but her expression remains stern. Still, it doesn't mean Beatriz would do such a thing. We both grew up on this estate. Beatriz knows how much I love that plant. She could never.

"Thank you, Camila," I say in a voice calmer than I feel. I move past her to the main building to find my mom. I am sure Camila made a mistake, and now I just have to get my mom to clear up all these confusion.