Staring down at the little Zorra in front me, I see so much of my family in her. I see that same fiery spirit that every Herrera possesses. I see part of my mother, her soft beautiful nature mixed with the ruthlessness if anybody ever came for her children. It confuses my soul, seeing this girl who is not supposed to mean anything to me slowly becoming a permanent fixture in my life.
This is not what my father told me to do. He told me to get rid of her, to clean up my mess as we should. By letting her continue to live–not only live but now run my club and live in my home–I’m putting both of us in grave danger. This isn’t something that was supposed to happen.
But it has.
Now that it has, do I have the balls to remove her? I don’t think I do. She’s going to be kept under my surveillanc
