2

Salvador Silver Mendoza.

I am Salvador, Don of Maython city.

There is no one born of this earth that doesn’t know my name. I've got three brothers and we are collectively known as the Mendoza brothers. Our name spans across the globe—from the furthest of planets to the earth. Together, we control multibillion-dollar stocks, global corporations, oil rigs and the fucking government. At the ripe age of eighteen, I began a few of these ventures after watching my father, the former Don, shape the pillars of this city.

When he named me his successor, I was too young by most standards but by the thunders in the heavens, I was ready. From east to west, countless mafias, gang lords, and power-hungry factions in the city united in a futile attempt to take the throne of Don from me. They thought I was an easy target—just an eighteen-year-old boy, too young, too inexperienced to defend or protect it. They believed they could outrun and outnumber me.

If only they knew my history, if only they knew that by thirteen, my father had been sculpting me into the weapon I needed to become.

At thirteen, my father took my brothers and I to the far reaches of the world—Europe, Japan, China, Taiwan—where we trained under the brutal watch of a hundred masters. For five years, we endured their teachings. I mastered Muay Thai, Jiu-Jitsu, Krav Maga, Wing Chun, Taekwondo, Aikido, Kenjutsu, and Shaolin Kung Fu. We trained in waterfalls, in deserts, under a scorching sun, rain, and the cursing cold of snow.

My hands bled. My feet bled. But at eighteen, I emerged as a hybrid fighter. When my father was satisfied that I could protect myself, he pushed me further, again! I had to endure compulsory training in strategy, tactics, business management, and diplomacy. All my brothers were subjected to this, but it was clear my father was hardest on me. He was preparing me for the throne of Don.

And do you know what happened to those rivals who thought they could take my throne? Well, they got a taste of who I was. With my brothers at my side and thousands of men whose loyalty lies with the Mendoza family, I solidified my claim on Maython City as the Don.

Since I’ve known life, it has been a battlefield of arrows at every side and every fucking angle! Therefore, at the ripe age of thirty, I have not the time nor the luxury to consider family, women or children. To me, those are luxuries for fools who haven’t tasted war. I don’t have the time or patience for such nonsense. Or at least, I didn’t.

Not until I had to marry this woman on her wedding day to teach her thieving scum of a lover a lesson.

My grandmother’s home is a place my brothers and I kept off the radar to ensure she remained detached from our… activities. That puta, Lucas and his brothers slithered through the gates with the belief of an old woman, alone? Perfect prey. They had no idea that the “harmless old lady” was the grandmother of us.

For years, we’ve stored our most valuable possessions there—priceless heirlooms, diamond relics and other… assets that are better kept out of sight. Some are locked away in a secure vault, but my grandmother, bless her sentimental heart, loved to keep a few scattered around. She enjoyed cleaning them, polishing them as if they were mere decorations. It was her little ritual until these vermin have dared to trespass, to steal from her, from me.

How quaint.

"Salvador!"

"Salvador!"

I fix a cigarette in between my lips as I hear my mother’s call. We call her Mama Doza—the matriarch, commander and saint of fury of our family. I stop to let her catch up.

"Who is that woman at the entrance? The one weeping hysterically!" she arrives.

I exhale a steam of smoke before speaking. I brought Catalina to our family’s territory.

“She’s the bride of that bastard Lucas. They were getting married when we arrived."

Before she can respond, my right hand—Bruno walks in.

"Boss, I sent the gang to their family house. We plundered, burned three of their shops and smashed everything in sight."

"Bueno." I nod.

"Salvador, why is that woman here?" Mama Doza refers back to her question.

Nathan and Diego stroll in—they are my brothers, the first and the third.

"We just saw a woman—" Nathan starts.

"Boss married her." Bruno reports, not without chuckling.

"What!" the three of them yell.

"Don’t overthink it. She’s just collateral."

"Marrying someone into our family can never be mere collateral!" Mama Doza’s rosary is tight in her hand when she reminds me of this.

Her hair—a mix of white and raven black makes her look every bit the fierce matriarch she is. Even now as a grown man, I find her fierceness to be tough to match. She has always seen marriage as sacred. Her first son is married. Her third son is married. Even the fourth has a woman he’s dating. But me? I’ve always been her stubborn weed.

"Tell me you’re lying, Salvador." The bead in her hand strains as if she’s about to summon heaven’s wrath. I take a smoke and she pulls it from my lips.

"Once he returns everything he stole from us, including praying to God until our grandmother is healed, I will release her. I brought the girl here because I needed something to keep him committed.” I scowl.

"Salvador, you should have broken the hands of those bastards, dragged them here, and let me put a bullet in their skulls for what they did to my mother—"

“I will but in time. Yet for now, they’re nothing more than the Mendoza dogs. They did not just hurt our grandmother; they stole our father’s possessions. We burned their homes, we searched every corner, and still… nothing." I remind her about the meaning of those diamonds that have been stolen.

"So, she is not really your wife? But where are you going to keep her?" Nathan clears his throat. He is the one with big muscles, tattoos on both of his hands and legs. He is the one that looks like a Viking amongst us.

"In a guest room." I roll my fingers away.

"You," my mother refers to a housekeeper. "Go and bring her. Let me take a look at her again."

Diego comes to me, smiling for some reason and places his hand on my shoulder. I stop smoking for a moment. I don’t want the smoke to corrupt the image of that alabaster-skinned woman—Lucas’ woman.

When my eyes first landed on her, I thought I was looking at a fairy. Her lips were as red as blood. Skin as fair as snow, like the whitest shade of milk. Despite all that instilled in that cathedral, she was a stark of paleness with dark curly hair that fell from the white scalp of her head and brushed the curve of her waist in that wedding gown. She was, without question, the most innocent, fervent, heart-beating, doe-eyed woman I have ever seen. She is small—fragile even—completely, dwarfed by my size. I am easily five times her weight.

                                                                  

I was surprised by my own ability to hold my gaze on her for more than a second. Was it my recent celibacy that made me fixate on her breasts? Perhaps. But she isn’t the only woman in the world—so why did my eyes lock onto her like that. Good thing I am not a man who leads with his cock.

“Let go of me!” I hear her startled cry as she is brought in. On her shoulders is my coat. I tried to be a gentleman and save her modesty, even though I had beaten her so-called husband into a peach bulb. When she sees me, dainty hands slam into pitiful fists and I smile. Will her lips always be that shade of unruly red—from where I stand, it is plump and beating.

Her eyes are the kind that make a man cum before he ever takes his out his jewel. Big, clear and shiny. I will not lie, her features can put a man to his knees. Well, good thing I am not a man but a Don.

“Wow, she is—” Diego doesn’t finish his word.

Beautiful but unlucky. Is what I would call her.

“Do you even know who her family is?” Mama Doza asks.

“Regardless of who her family is, if they could shift the police force, they would have been here by now. So in their absence, I can tell she is a nobody.” I look at her and state.

“What is her name?” Nathan asks.

“Catali.” I respond.

“My name is Catalina!” she yells.

Something tells me she wants to close the space and punch me.

“Well, Catali…welcome, you are a fucking collateral in this mansion! You are among Mendozas who hate you, and until your fucking lover brings what he stole from me, you are not going home and neither are you are not allowed to see your family. I trust they would not even dare to come here, only a mad person would venture to do so.” I blandly let her know.

She pulls off the ring her lover stole. Then, throws it at me. I catch it before it smacks my face, and I begin to take it back to her. She moves away, puffed face and scared, shuddering.

I pull her hand and roughly push the ring back.

“Wear it. This is my own brand on you. You must remember, day and night, that you are the Don’s collateral—” my sentence is cut off when she innocently slaps me. I think it was supposed to be hard, but it ends up as a feather touch.

“Ouch, painful.” I seethe in sarcasm.

“Why don’t you disgrace her whole family too? They are friends of that thieving bastard!” Mama Doza seethes.

“Maybe I will if Lucas doesn’t act fast.” Her eyes juice with tears, and she raises her hand again. This time, it seems the slap will be harder, but Mama Doza catches her hand.

“You bitch! Get the fuck away from my son!” My mother throws her hand away, and she falls to the ground. “Forget the guest house, put this bitch in the servants' quarters!”

I look at her on the ground and take my cigarette back to my lips before walking away.