Reborn of Cartel Heir

Chapter 2: Bullets Of The Responsibility

Carlos let out a deep sigh of relief when the doctor told him Ricardo's surgery had been successful. The doctor managed to save Ricardo after a heart attack that nearly claimed his life. A month later, Ricardo was discharged and allowed to return home.

Carlos went back to his usual life. He worked tirelessly to pay off his million-dollar debt, with only three months left to settle it. Nearly two months had gone by, and he still hadn’t managed to pay even half of what he owed. Rosita had no idea about any of this. They were back together now, and Carlos let his wife spend the remaining $400,000 however she pleased.

The door to Carlos's room swung open abruptly. He, focused on the brush in his hand, turned toward the sound. Rosita stormed in and shut the door behind her in a rush, tossing her shopping bags onto the floor.

“What’s wrong, Amor?” Carlos asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Rosita dropped onto one of the old sofas in his studio, her hand pressing against her forehead. “You’ve completely lost your mind, Carlos,” she muttered. Carlos didn’t take his eyes off her. He crouched in front of her, gently taking her hand in his.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Amor.”

Rosita pulled something out of her bag and threw a piece of paper at Carlos’s face. It landed on the floor, and he picked it up with his right hand. His eyes widened as he read it.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, disbelief etched on his face. The paper detailed all his debts and the breakdown of interest, along with the looming payment deadline.

Rosita had found the letter buried in a pile of their house bills. She thought it was just another bill until she noticed the letterhead and logo of El Lobo, one of the largest drug cartels in Mexico.

“How long have you been involved with the El Lobo Cartel, Carlos? Have you completely lost your mind?” Rosita demanded, her eyes fixed on him.

***

"I want a divorce," Rosita’s words came out again, sharp and final. It felt like a threat that Carlos couldn’t fight anymore. All of this started with the man she met on the street that day—the one who took Carlos to the El Lobo Cartel and helped him borrow money from Pablo Herreira, the son of the cartel’s leader.

"I’m taking Ricardo with me. You deal with these debts—I don’t want to know about it," Rosita said, her voice cold.

Carlos had nothing left. Even if he begged, even if he knelt before her, Rosita wouldn’t forgive him. He couldn’t see another way out—his only option was to borrow from the cartel, though he knew just how dangerous that was.

Rosita began packing her things. Ricardo, still sleeping, woke up to the sound of their argument.

"Rosita, please, give me another chance. I’ll pay off everything, I swear. We can start over," Carlos pleaded. Rosita looked at him with disdain. For years, she’d put up with Carlos’s weakness, living off his paintings, but now she regretted ever marrying him.

"How are you going to pay all of this off? You have one month left. Do you really think you can do it with this rundown place?" she said bitterly.

Carlos felt like she had just stabbed him with the truth. "I’ll try, Rosita, please," he begged. Rosita picked up Ricardo and grabbed her bag. As she started to leave, Ricardo’s voice called out.

"Where are we going, Mommy?"

"We’re leaving," Rosita replied, her voice hard. Carlos felt helpless, as if he was being forced to let go of both his wife and child. He couldn’t stop her anymore.

"But Daddy’s coming with us, right?" Ricardo asked, trying to understand. Rosita glanced at Carlos, then answered sharply. "No, just you and me, Ricardo."

Ricardo began to cry and resist as Rosita dragged him with her. His little hands reached out to Carlos. Carlos tried to chase after them, one last time.

"Rosita, please. I can fix this," Carlos pleaded, but his words seemed hollow, even to him. Rosita walked past the living room, then stopped and turned to look at him one last time before opening the door.

"Goodbye, Carlos," she said, and then opened the door. Carlos’s eyes went wide when he saw what was waiting for her on the other side. A gun was pointed straight at Rosita’s face. Pablo Herreira and his five men were standing in the doorway.

"Where do you think you’re going, Señorita?" Pablo smirked, raising the corner of his mouth.

***

Rosita and Carlos were forced to sit on the floor, their hands bound. Ricardo sat beside Rosita, crying non-stop. Pablo Herreira, sitting across from Carlos, casually twirled his gun. The red-haired man, tattoos running down his arms, stared at Carlos with an intimidating glare. His face showed no sign of warmth. Despite wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt, Pablo—the boss of the El Lobo Cartel—still managed to exude an air of menace.

"You really thought you could run after taking money from me, Carlos Mendoza?" Pablo’s voice was cold, cutting.

Carlos clenched his trembling hands. "That's not true. I wasn’t trying to escape from you, Pablo," he said, forcing himself to stay calm. His heart pounded. This was the second time he had come face to face with Pablo, but that unrelenting stare still unsettled him.

Pablo shifted his gaze to Rosita. "So, what’s with all these bags?" he asked, nodding toward the luggage piled beside her. Carlos froze. There was no way he could explain that Rosita was trying to leave him after discovering the truth about his debts.

"Wait, is your wife trying to leave you?" Pablo burst into laughter, realizing the situation.

"Let her go, and let my son go too. You only have business with me," Carlos said, his voice shaking. Pablo’s laughter slowly faded. His lips curled into a twisted smirk.

"Pay your debt first. At least pay 500 thousand now."

Carlos’s mind raced. He didn’t have five hundred thousand, or even a hundred dollars. He tried to think of a way out.

"I have a month to pay for it. Why are you here now, Pablo?" Carlos asked, his voice steady despite his fear.

Pablo spun his gun again, eyes narrowing. "I come whenever I want, Carlos. You don’t control me," he said, his voice cold as ice.

"So, do you have the 500 thousand now?"

Carlos shook his head. "I don’t have a penny. Please, just give me more time," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. Pablo was famous for being a ruthless leader. His reputation was built on violence—r**e, theft, extortion, and worse. He was known for showing no mercy.

Pablo crossed his arms, leaning back casually. "Too bad. I can’t just let your wife walk away, Carlos. But I’ve got an offer for you."

Carlos frowned. "What kind of offer?"

"Give her to me. She looks like she could warm my bed just fine. If you give her to me, I’ll consider your debt paid halfway."

Carlos’s blood ran cold at the words. His fists clenched at his sides. "Carlos, don’t be insane! You won’t do this to me!" Rosita screamed, her voice full of panic. But Carlos’s mind was racing, torn. Could he really give up his wife—who had just asked for a divorce—just to clear his debts?

"Make your choice now, Carlos. I know you’re a smart man," Pablo said, with a smile that made Carlos’s skin crawl.