Reborn of Cartel Heir

Carlos looked at the document in his hand, confused. The man opened the envelope and read it with widened eyes, "Amor, what is this?" he asked innocently. "Divorce papers, can't you read them?" Rosita replied angrily. "I can't believe you filed the divorce papers in front of our sick son," Carlos felt angry. It was difficult to express the pain he was feeling. His son Ricardo was lying helplessly weak in front of him, and his wife wanted a divorce. "I can't stand you, Carlos. You've been sitting there all day doing nothing but drawing in your sketchbook. I'm sick of living with losers like you." Carlos ignored his pain. Everything Rosita said was true. He was trying his best, but he needed a break. Carlos looked at Rosita, pleading with her. "Rosita, I'm just resting for a while. I've been trying to find a loan all day. I also sold all my paintings. Can't you be a little patient?" Carlos looked at Rosita with a pleading gaze. Rosita folded her arms across her chest, looking at Carlos with disdain. "What kind of man are you? Your son is lying weak and needs surgery, and you're doing nothing. Never mind, I'm fed up with you. Just sign the divorce papers," Rosita urged. "I can't. Please, Rosita, I love you so much. I don’t want a divorce," Carlos knelt before Rosita, but she seemed unconcerned. "Bring me one million dollars tomorrow. If you can't get it, we will get divorced," Rosita threatened. Carlos' eyes widened. "One million dollars? "Why is that so much when we only need $600,000 for Ricardo’s surgery?" Rosita pulled the corner of her mouth down in disdain. "You have to pay me back. Is being the wife of a failure like you really a good thing?" she scoffed. The woman walked over to Carlos. "Bring the money tomorrow or we're done," she said and walked away. *** Carlos knocked impatiently on Joseph's door. He tried to call Joseph, but he didn't answer. "Are you looking for someone?" Carlos turned his head when he heard a voice behind him. "Hola," he greeted warmly. "I'm here to see Joseph, is he home?" Carlos asked the middle-aged woman in front of him. "Joseph is not home." "Do you know where he is? I need to see him," Carlos asked impatiently. The woman in front of him gave Carlos a suspicious look. "Are you Joseph's accomplice?" The woman seemed to pause, "or are you a victim of this man's deception?" Carlos' brow furrowed, "What do you mean, a victim of deception?" said Carlos in a tone he did not understand. *** Carlos cursed and swore at himself many times. The man never thought that Joseph Castillo, someone he had considered a friend to friend for a year, turned out to be an impostor. What a fool. Carlos had entrusted Joseph with the sale of all his paintings. "This hijo de puta swindled the people here and got away with their money. No one knows where he is now. They say Joseph moved to America," the woman's words echoed in Carlos' head. Carlos walked lazily, Ricardo's life and the continuity of his household were in his hands. It was almost evening, and he didn't have much time. First he hoped to meet Joseph. Maybe he could get some money from the sale of his paintings. Carlos seemed to ignore the noisy streets around him. The man stood on a street corner, bouncing his butt under a tree. His eyes stared down with a blank stare. The man sat hugging his knees, the necklace around his ring around his neck shining in the setting sun. Carlos held the ring on his necklace, "Should I sell this necklace?” Carlos muttered. It might not be much, but the gold necklace could lighten Carlos' burden a little. The man changed his mind when he remembered that it was the only necklace his mother had left him. Carlos' head was bowed. The man inhaled deeply. The thousands of voices in his mind sounded painful. Carlos had lost his only hope. He couldn't contact Joseph either. Tak! A soft object hit Carlos' head. Carlos blinked his eyes and slowly raised his head. A man in jeans and a polo shirt was standing in front of him. He had curly hair and a piercing in his right ear. "Sorry, I accidentally dropped my bread," he mumbled, picking up a package of bread that was in front of Carlos. Carlos' stomach churned, a feeling of hunger knocking at the walls of his stomach. His gaze fell on the silver briefcase the man was carrying, a briefcase that didn't seem to match his casual appearance. "It’s fine," Carlos replied shortly. The man looked suspicious, and Carlos didn’t want to engage with him—he might be a cartel member. Mexico was home to some of the largest drug cartels in the world. Carlos was taken aback when the man sat down beside him. The man slowly unwrapped his bread and began eating. Not wanting any trouble, Carlos stood up to leave. "I need to go now, enjoy your food," he said, walking away. But after just a few steps, the man’s voice called out from behind him. "Need some money?" he murmured, grabbing Carlos's attention. *** Carlos hurried down the hospital corridor, a suitcase clutched in his right hand. He rushed into Ricardo's room. “Amor, I got the money—” His words faltered as his eyes took in the empty room. The bed was neatly made, the blankets undisturbed. The panic rising, Carlos quickly checked the bathroom, knocking softly, but there was no response. He stormed to the nurses’ station. “What happened to my son? Where is he?” he demanded, his voice trembling. The nurse gave him a calm look. “Please relax, sir. Which room was he in?” she asked gently. “Room 12E. Where is he now?” Carlos’s chest tightened as his heart raced. “Your son is in the ICU,” the nurse explained. “He had a cardiac arrest—” Before she could finish, Carlos took off toward the ICU, his thoughts racing. The money in the suitcase would mean nothing if he couldn’t save Ricardo. He ran as fast as he could, dodging and even colliding with others in the hallway. When he reached the ICU, his eyes fell on Rosita, sitting on the floor, crying uncontrollably. Two nurses crouched beside her, trying to console her. “Oh no, my baby,” Rosita sobbed. Carlos approached, gripping her arm. “Amor, what happened? What’s wrong with Ricardo?” Rosita looked up, her swollen eyes filled with despair. “Ricardo…” Her voice broke as she clung tightly to Carlos, unable to continue.