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.Catalina Maria.I have been in the same spot since they brought me to this bedroom. That was last night. I have not moved a limb, nor have I said a word. I’ve just sat here thinking about two things. What Lucas has done and what my life has become.That man… he is the Don of Maython City. The same one people say has a heart of thorns and the fury of a thousand men. Just looking into his eyes, I saw silver shards of something, and from the mannerless rust in his voice, I knew—I was doomed.On my wedding day, the day I thought I would be marrying my childhood best friend and love, I instead became the bride of the wicked Don of the city.A Don is just another title for the god of the city. He controls every gang, every elected governor, every government policy. Bullets and loyalties—those are the laws of a Don. In Maython City, a Don is untouchable. I have heard too many rumors about Salvador. They say he has no heart—not for men, not for women. He hates all equally. Lucas used to speak
Salvador Silver Mendoza.“Catali, did you not hear me?” I grind my cigarette into the silver tray.I stare at her and before she answers, I think about that one question that’s been plaguing me: how can innocence and siren exist on the same face? And might I add that her voice is the most haunting thing I have ever heard… she sounds so soft, it is devastating for a man as hard as me.Yesterday was a lot, but her beauty remained consistent regardless of the fact that she was in tears. How do I put this? She has the face of a doe, but her lips set her apart. Her aquiline nose is patterned to be a man’s fall, and the sight I got of her breasts after I mistakenly ripped her cloth was…How do I say I’ve never seen skin like that? Like butter, whipped to white and fluffy. Even now, it has a contrast of shine to it—one that can be only attributed by a living sun, though there’s none here. I can only wonder what her nipples look like; would they be the shade of her lips?Today, she is not in h
Catalina Maria.I am pale.What is that heavy feeling on my knee? By the tense clench of his jaw, I know it’s exactly what I fear—it’s not his leg, it is not something thick in his pocket. But the way it shifts, soft at first, then hard against my knee, tells me the truth.It’s his manhood.I squeal in embarrassment and fear. I try to get away, but my movement yanks at my scalp. My breath stutters when I realize my hair is tangled around his necklace."Stay. Fucking. Put." he growls.There is pure terror in my spine so I cannot listen, not when he’s so close—too close—his mouth is just inches from my skin, his body is a wall of scary, tattooed muscle before me. I have to move. I don’t care if my hair ends up being chopped in half. I have a head full of hair, it will grow again.Forbiddingly, in an attempt to find space, my knee just had to center around him again! Salvador grunts, so startled by it that he ends up falling in between my legs. I gasp against his lips.My mouth is still
Salvador Silver Mendoza.Catalina.Her name is silk and innocence. I swear, she’s like a veil between good and good. She has a face so pure, so soft, so lithe, and drenched in grace that a man like me cannot help but be curious. When I think of her, it circles back to a dove—every bit of her. That voice she uses to speak, so soft… but imagine it in a moan?I heard her moan. And it struck me like lightning.There’s a ruckus outside, but I pretend it doesn’t concern me.I have work, like every other day—cash books, ledgers, cash flows of each of my businesses. I know no man would dare steal from me, but I still make sure my eyes stay hooked. A pen rests between my teeth, but my groin knows something else entirely.How long has it been since I’ve manned a woman?I can’t even remember. A year? Two? What the hell—I didn’t think it had been that long. I’ve been too caught up in my business. My mining empire, the Silver Dimes, pulls in thousands of diamonds, resold across the globe. It’s not
Catalina Maria.I step back as multiple plates are thrown into the sink. Foamy, soapy water splashes against my face as they dump them in carelessly. The whole basin is full, and someone shoves a pair of gloves into my hands. In the blurry view of my tear-filled eyes, I see numerous housekeepers in the space—like a hive of bees, they are all whispering about me.Louder footsteps storm into the vast kitchen and a strong hand yanks me around to face Madam Louise, the insane head of housekeeping.“You see,” she says. “I told you—you’re a wench, and a wench belongs in the kitchen.”I quickly wipe my cheeks.“All of you, pay attention!”Louise yells and the whispering stops.“I know many of you have been spreading rumors—saying Sir finally married a woman. But let this be a lesson to you all. She is not Mrs. Mendoza. She is collateral. And now, she is part of the housekeeping staff. She will wash dishes as the rest of you do. She will scrub floors until they shine. If only you had been a
Salvador Silver Mendoza.I fill my glass with whiskey as my brothers file in, one by one, like they’re lining up for confession. Anytime they walk in like this, it is two things—they want something and second, they want something.Diego drops into a chair. Nathan stands. Patrick is missing, but not for long. A few seconds go and he walks in, pulling off his cap like he’s about to deliver a eulogy.“You’re married!?”Ah. So he finally heard.“Again, you’re married?!” He throws his arms out.“And have you seen her? She’s beautiful too…” Diego chimes in.I roll my eyes and swirl the whiskey in my glass.“Salvador, you don’t do rational things…” Nathan starts. “You set out to beat that fucking bastard, and you came back with his bride. Now Mom’s turned her into a damn housekeeper—”“She broke an expensive vase. You know how Mother gets about those flimsy things.” I reach for a cigarette, then a lighter—where the hell is my fucking lighter?Nathan tosses one to me. I catch it midair, flick
Catalina Maria.As soon as he leaves, I look around the room. From left to right, the bed is as wide as an ocean, enough for at least six people. When Salvador was on me, it felt like the weight of a thousand men, but it was not suffocating. It was scary…until he kissed me. Not until I felt that though he is a man of cold exteriors, his lips were nothing but soft. His tongue was hot and it felt like pillows in my mouth.This isn’t the first time I’ve been kissed. So, why did I go numb? Or should I be asking, why did Salvador kiss me? To teach me a lesson? For someone so rough and wicked, he kissed me like a husband would kiss his wife.And that is the problem.He is not my husband. I am not his wife. He has made it clear that I am his collateral. Therefore, he is not supposed to kiss me like that.I touch my lips because I can still feel him. How do I explain it? He tastes of rain, of mint, of siege, all at once. Even now, my lips are still trembling. And worse, when he threatened to
Salvador Silver Mendoza.I’m on my second tequila, and the night hasn’t even bled open yet.Tonight was supposed to be about work. I had plans. Things to handle. But with the wreckage life insists on throwing at me, I’ve got no choice but to sit through my mother’s tea party, put on a show, and silence the vultures.My shirt is the color of midnight—black enough to swallow the light, dark enough to keep my sins hidden. Mother walks beside me into one of our infamous receiving room and complaint rolls off her tongue.“The guests are already asking about Catalina—left and right, it’s like they think she’s some celebrity or something.”The receiving room is filled with Diego’s usual company—men with too much liquor in their veins and too little sense in their heads. They are men I tolerate at best. Diego, sprawled in an armchair with a girl on his lap, hand wandering up her thigh, notices our mother and immediately shoves her off. Too late. Mama Doza’s eyes have already seen it.“Is this
Catalina Maria.I still can’t believe it.When Salvador mentioned liking the kiss, I almost thought I misheard him. That means the first time he kissed me on this bed, it wasn’t out of intimidation. It wasn’t to punish me. He wanted to. Is he attracted to me? I could be delusional, but I had to test it.Going to him, standing on my toes—is something I would never do. Not in any situation. I never make the first move, not even when I was dating Lucas. But in that moment, I knew this was my only way out. It was my only chance at testing if this monster of a man bears an attraction to me.It took everything in me to gather the confidence to walk up to him to his sharp, arrogant face. And when I barely brushed his lips for a second, he took charge. That’s when I got scared. That’s why I pulled away. The first time. The second. Even the third. But I can’t forget the way his hand rested on my lower back, the way his fingers pressed into my waist before trailing lower to my bum.I feel like
Salvador Mendoza.How do I tell her I want to kiss those pouty lips? That’s not even the question she asked. She wants my trust. My trust. After she tried to run or take some little college test—whichever story is the truth.I have no reason to give her anything but yet here she is, standing in my space with that beautiful face and my favorite food. Something about that combination has me sitting here, actually having a conversation with her, without threats or reminders of who holds the power. Me.She burns under my gaze when I don’t reply. I see it in the way her fingers twitch, like she needs something to hold onto, some kind of leverage against the weight of my silence.“Um—”“You want my trust.” I push off the table, folding my arms as I break the silence. She nods.“Then come here.”I know she’s afraid—of me, of my tattoos, of everything I’ve done. I’ve seen her eyes trace the ink on my skin too many times. Slowly, she steps forward. One. Two. She stops. I flick my fingers, beck
Catalina Maria.I didn’t wait for him to wake up this morning. The moment I could, I slipped out of his room like a shadow. After last night, there’s no denying it anymore—Salvador is every bit the monster people say he is, and maybe worse. I’ve made myself a silent promise: I won’t defy him again if I can help it.But at least... at least I got to write my test. Small victories, I guess.Still, guilt weighs heavy on me. Diego is the only one who’s treated me like a person in this house. Not a prisoner or a servant. I should’ve told him where I was going. I owe him an apology. I know he must be upset with me, maybe even disappointed.So here I am, scrubbing dishes, folding laundry until my arms are sore, cleaning the vases one by one, letting the hum of work drown out the memory of Salvador’s threat. The image of my family home burning… I can’t shake it. Anything, I’d do anything to not think about it.“There you are…” Rosa startles g me as I tend to flowers. “I’m sure everyone’s bee
Salvador Silver Mendoza.From the color in her eyes, I know exactly what I am—the nightmare she can’t afford to provoke, yet here she is, doing just that.I scan the room and take my time. The grey-bearded man must be her father. The sour-faced woman clinging to him must be his wife. Then there’s Lucas and his pathetic brother, hovering like flies over rotten fruit. Did they gather here to plot an escape? Perhaps with my diamond in tow?No one speaks. No one dares. Not when their throats has clenched shut against better will.“Salvador, I—” Catalina tries, but I turn my gaze on her, and the words wither on her tongue.“Go outside.” I say.“My daughter is not going with you! I’m calling the cops.” Her father steps up like a dog with no teeth.Bruno chuckles behind me, amused at the man’s bravery—or stupidity.“Your daughter is my wife…” I say, as if explaining the obvious to a child. His mind must be rusted over if he can’t remember.As I study him—and the trembling woman by his side—I
Catalina Maria. “Goodness, I have a physical test in twenty minutes!” I turn around to face Diego. “I’m going to miss it. It’s a biochemistry test, and I’m going to fail.”I drop the computer mouse from my hand in despair and before I know it, tears are stinging the corners of my eyes.“No, you’re not. Come on.”I look at Diego in confusion as he rummages through his desk.“What are you—”“I’m taking you to the university. University of Malcolm City, right?”My lips part in shock. “Yes… Are you sure? Your brother—won’t he—”“I don’t know what Salvador will do if he realizes I took you but we don’t have time to wonder. So, come on. Unless you’re ready to miss the test and say goodbye to it forever.”He is already moving toward the door, and for a second, I hesitate. But then, the weight of the test—of everything I’ve worked for sets in so I am pushed into motion.I jump up from my chair and rip off my apron. I chase after him through the Mendoza estate’s massive halls. The farther we
Salvador Silver Mendoza. “Why the hell can’t I find Diego in this whole damn house!?” is the question I raise when Sabrina walks in, carrying a few ledgers—the job I pay her to do. Sabrina is…I’ve never quite known what box to put her in. She isn’t a friend, not quite an employee in the traditional sense, and the fact that we had sex once complicates things further. I was drunk. That’s the only excuse I have. I don’t even remember the details, just waking up to her naked beside me with red hair spread over my pillow like flames. And the first word out of my mouth was fuck. That was three years ago. Sabrina’s been working for me for six. Her father was my father’s accountant, so we’ve known each other since we were teenagers. My old man had strict rules—no personal relationships with anyone working for us. Not that it mattered for I was never interested. But Sabrina? She had a crush on me and it was obvious to everyone. I’ve never gone for women below my age. I’ve always preferred
Catalina Maria."I didn’t mean to break it—""It’s like you don’t mean to do anything, yet you somehow do everything!" he yells.His voice is serpent, but I barely hear it over the sting in my finger. It’s only then that I realize that he's still holding my hand.I try to pull away, but before I can, he tugs me out of the hallway. Salvador’s legs are much longer than mine as I am forced to follow. We reach the kitchen in seconds. He doesn’t say anything, just turns on the tap and pushes my hand under the cool stream of water.I squirm when the water stings my finger. I end up leaning back—straight into him. His body is a wall of heat behind me and with his big arm, he reaches forward and turns off the tap.I retrieve my hand from his calloused ones and cradle it against my chest. When he moves away, I can finally exhale. My heart is still racing from the suddenness of it all. I have broken another thing in his home and I am sure that costs a fortune too.“Bring your finger.” he orders
Salvador Silver Mendoza. She left me to suffer.Why wouldn’t she? No young woman in her right mind would have stayed, especially after coming face to face with the stroke of my rigidity. Now, in the dim morning light, she sleeps—curled up on the couch in my pristine space, completely oblivious to the way I stand over her. She doesn’t know that I see the slow rise and fall of her breath, the way her body curls inward, as if she’s subconsciously protecting herself even in sleep.Last night was a torment. I was soaked in veins. Yet, because I am a man of discipline. I did not seek release on my own. I never have. A man should find it in a woman, not in his own hands. It may seem ironic, given the violence I am capable of, but there are lines I refuse to cross, boundaries I will never break. This is one of them. My body is sheen with water for I just left the bathroom. A towel is in my hand and as if she senses that someone is looking over her, Catali parts her eyes open. The first thin
Catalina Maria. I swallow for my throat has become dry. Words fail me as I stare at the obvious bulge in his pants. It is a large pointed bulge that strains against the fabric of his pants. I must be seeing things. It is obviously heavy and pronounced in a way that makes my pulse stutter and my body lock up. A stroke of need so visible it’s almost unbearable to look at before he hastily drops his shirt over it.Is that why he turned away from me?When he pulled me against him earlier, I felt something pressing into my stomach, but I had assumed it was his belt. Yet now, with my own eyes, there’s no mistaking it.“Just leave!” he rasps.I glance at the door, torn between obeying and staying. I should go. I should pretend I saw nothing, walk out of this room, and let him deal with… whatever this is.But he’s suffering.As a student studying clinical pharmacy, my mind immediately jumps to conclusions. Either he took something—like an aphrodisiac—or I don’t know. Either he took an aphrod