Infinite Sorrow

Copyright © 2022 Dahlia Reign, LLC This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise–without prior written permission. Cover Image: Rights reserved for Dahlia Reign, LLC Cover Creator: 3Crows Author Services Editing: Pagan Proofreading and Editing Table of Contents Dedication About Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Epilogue Dedication This is for Dillie Bear… I didn’t mean it. About I had daddy issues. Everything up until my untimely death was orchestrated by my father’s hands. Or my own, in my hard-driven attempt to gain vengeance. He was the head of the cartel. Then, with the flick of a traitorous finger, I witnessed my parents execution—the catalyst for my chaotic future. And from the shadows, pillared by death and coated in blood, La Reina de Escorpiones was born. My head and my heart were shrouded in the darkness of my past. However, years later, as my plans came to fruition, the seditious organ in my chest sparked to life. The question was: which son was the kindling? The eldest? The youngest? Or perhaps the fellow orphan? Their roles were trivial because I had one goal… Uncover who was at the root of my infinite sorrow and make them suffer. Prologue I watched my father kill a man right in front of me. I was ten. From that moment on, I knew exactly what my future would entail. I was the daughter of a very powerful figurehead and his empire would be handed over to me one day. He had a different voice and persona with everyone other than me and my mother. However, this was something I didn’t fully appreciate until I made the mistake of sneaking into his office. I’d wanted to scare him, play a game, and instead I almost wet my pajamas. When he stepped inside, he wasn’t alone and I watched in horror as a man fell at his feet—bruised and bleeding—his hands bound in rope. I wanted to jump out, to make my presence known, but something told me to stay put. The man begged and cried, kissing my father’s shoes and holding on to his pant legs. He was pleading in our native tongue, asking my father to have mercy, that he hadn’t meant to steal from Rey Reynaldo Vidal. He was the first person I’d heard call my father a king. The man’s cries were silenced by a loud gunshot. I put my hands over my ears, breathing through my nose to quiet my whimpers. My pajama pants were suddenly wet, and I looked down to see blood puddling at my feet. Before I could scream, Papa dragged me from my hiding spot and cooed at my tears as he held me to his chest. But just as suddenly as the tears had started, they stopped. I stared at the lifeless body with a sense of disconnection. I understood what had happened and why. It was my father’s duty to handle it as he saw fit. He’d known I was there the entire time; nothing got past him. “I will always do whatever I need to do to protect our family, Camila.” He proudly boasted that I had my mother’s beauty and a calm yet raging tenacity to succeed. I’d heard my abuela, on my father’s side, talk about how dangerous my mother was. Papa’s men whispered about the loca reina who enamored their leader. How it took a crazy woman to handle the cartel life. I didn’t understand the truth in their words because I’d only ever seen the loving woman who’d hold me close and read me bedtime stories. “In our world, Camila, men are afraid of strong women. It’s more acceptable to say she’s crazy instead of dangerous. She is beautiful, but even more importantly, she’s smart and committed to our family. You’re as beautiful and intelligent as she is. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Women didn’t run cartels, but Papa was training me to step in anyway. He promised to find me a husband who would heighten my power and keep me safe, not belittle me. Mama didn’t believe him, but I knew Papa always kept his promises. And I knew Mama would make sure I received the respect she was fighting so hard to maintain. After witnessing my first execution, my studies began: cocaine distribution, business succession, arms dealing, and protection. I had an odd interest in taking things apart just to see how they worked. Beyond fascinated by anything that had to do with my father’s business. “The two crazy Vidal women, we’ll make history,” Mama had joked to Papa once. He didn’t like it when she talked like that, or when he heard his men discrediting us because of our gender. His respect was more than words and he followed it with action, ensuring his women were protected. Valued above all else. His dedication to his men, the cartel’s succession, and his family’s safety were qualities he instilled in me. And I made a vow I’d always do right by him. No matter what that meant for me. If only I’d realized that just a few years later my world would be turned upside down. The sound of glass shattering in the hallway broke me from my sleep. Sitting upright in bed, I didn’t dare move. I felt like I’d just laid down, having spent the night training with Joe—my personal guard. He’d kicked my ass and everything ached. At first, I was going to ignore the commotion, close my eyes and try to rest, but the screams had me rushing to my door. “Leave