Joaquin Fuertes

1. Sofia

SOFIA

Three Months Later

I’d finished the tenth performance of my Broadway show, Regret, My Love. Sitting in front of my vanity mirror I turned down the radio low as Nina Simone played in the background. I needed a shower and bed from being on my feet for over four days with two shows daily, back to back. I removed my makeup, tightening my robe over my sweatsuit. A knock on my door interrupted me, and my assistant walked inside without waiting for a response to come in.

“Your stalker just left.” Cassidy closed the door, walking inside with a bouquet of red roses and placing them down on the vanity mirror. I pulled one stem out and took a sniff. It smelled fresh, sweet, and clean. Nothing like the man that I had come to know as Joaquin Fuertes. A dangerous, angry, menacing, but deadly Cartel boss I met a few months ago. It was in all the journals about the Fuertes family. In New York, they were untouchable, as from the stories I saw, people went missing because of them. They seemed to have multiple businesses here and their connections reached up to the top of the food chain from the cops to governors to politicians in Washington. The rumors said they came together with the De Luca Cartel, which was run by club owner, Antonio De Luca, who was married to Sabrina Washington.

“Did he do anything to you?” Her head moved to wagging back and forth. Opening up another Revlon makeup remover, and wiping the foundation and lipstick off my lips, I glanced up through the mirror and saw her shake her head no.

“No, he does what he always does when you have a performance. Come up here, sit in the back, watch you, bring you flowers, and then leave. Should I contact the police to have him removed from the property?” Cassidy questioned.

I should probably be afraid of him. As the daughter of a southern father and mother, Latoya and Leroy Chambers, they were a regular hardworking family, and their three children were everything to them. I was born and raised in Mississippi with two brothers, me being the youngest. I was five-seven in height, twenty-seven years old, single, and working on my career as an actress and singer. I had an oval face and long nose, which my manager wanted me to get fixed. My lips were full with a small gap in between, and I had a copper skin tone with dimples in both cheeks. I was told repeatedly that I’d never make it in this business; five years later, I’m the lead actress in a Broadway show. I also had done ten movies and one TV show, with one album release, which still blew my mind coming from the south to live in New York. I was making a living doing what I loved. Things were opening up for me and having a distraction like this would be stupid.

“Has he threatened you, Cassidy?”

She sighed, running a hand down her face, turning toward me, walking closer to read the card. “Beautiful performance by a beautiful woman. I don’t know, Sofia, the man never speaks to anyone, but he has a box seat to watch you perform. You’ve never gone out with him or had s*x. But he sends you flowers for every show,” Cassidy said.

“I know it seems strange, but we met one day by accident. I ran into him when I was coming out of the restaurant the day I had a meeting with the producer for the show.”

I had immediately noticed the man who was tall with broad, muscled shoulders. I noticed men don’t like to consider themselves beautiful. There was nothing too special about me and it made me curious as to what he wanted from me. We had never held a single conversation ever since I bumped into that muscular broad chest of his that day. I tried one time to send the flowers back and ended up with more in my room the next day.

“What did you think about my performance tonight?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject, Sofia, I expect you like the chase from the baby boy.”

“I don’t have time for that right now. I have the play, my family, and a movie coming up; dating is the last thing on my mind,” I told her while removing my robe. I grabbed my jacket and flowers to leave Cassidy to follow behind. “I’ll call you tomorrow once I hear back from Jordan about the audition,” I added.

Opening the door and walking outside through the back alley, I saw a long sleek black limousine sitting and running with the door wide. The driver said to me, “Ma’am, he’s waiting for you.”

“I’m not getting in your car,” I respond.

“The boss doesn’t take no for an answer, please get in. He's had a long day; all he wants to do is take you home.” The driver took my flowers, and I looked around, there was no one behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He said nothing; he just sat near the window, turned his head to stare at me and my mouth. He then licked his lips and turned back, looking out of the window. “You can get into the car, beautiful, I won’t bite. I’m safe.” He held his hand out for me to take while staring at my face. I fidgeted with my hands as I hesitated to take the next step and he extended a hand out and I grasped it, then looked out the window. The driver went around to get into the driver's side; he pushed the partition up to give us privacy, and I sat near the door crossing my legs, wondering if this was the worst mistake ever.

“Thank you for the flowers,” I commented. He nodded in response.

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

“Are you always this quiet? You're a big-time mobster from what the paper says so I figured you’d have some backup.” It was very quiet in the limo as we drove home, so I kept rambling.

“I live near Waterline Square in Manhattan. My assistant feels you’re crazy, and I’m crazy for indulging you; sending these flowers, she thinks you’re probably a stalker.”

“And what do you think?” he asked.

“I guess she’s right.” He smiled at me as the car pulled up in front of my apartment building. I moved to open the door, and he grasped my hand. I turned to look at him.

“Joaquin Fuertes.”

“I recognize your name from the papers.”

“Have dinner with me,” he commanded.

“My story is simple, and one dinner can’t change everything,” I spoke.

“Does that scare you, Sofia?” he questioned.

“It depends, are you planning on hurting me?” He held my hand as I stepped out of the car, then I stood on the sidewalk, watching the limo leave with him inside while thinking about The Tonight Show and the audience applause, knowing he was there watching me in the private booths. I turned to walk inside and saw Mr. Simon, who has worked as one of the doormen for the past ten years.

“Wonderful evening, Sofia. How was your performance?” Jerry questioned.

“It was sold-out, Jerry; remind me to get tickets for you and your wife.” He held up his hands in a grateful gesture. Living in a condo had its advantages. I was staying at the penthouse level while I was here until I wrapped up the show in six months. I had a private gym and pool. My laundry got picked up once a week, and I had a chef that prepared my breakfast, lunch, and dinner when I’m home. Although on nights like tonight, I knew I’d find some gourmet meal waiting for me. I rode the elevator up to my Twenty-fifth floored penthouse before stepping off. I opened the door, hung up my coat, then checked my mail that my housekeeper left. Passing through the living room to the kitchen, I saw food wrapped on the counter. She made my favorite tonight, a zucchini bowl with red sauce and sweet potatoes. I lifted the tinfoil, opened the cabinet, and picked up a plate and fork. I warmed everything in the microwave, then went to shower to get the day washed away. Fifteen minutes after showering, I was dried off and had put a long sleeper shirt with my hair wrapped in a scarf. I walked back into the kitchen, grabbed my food and planner to look over my schedule for the following week as I sipped from the red wine I previously bought at the store. I had a full schedule coming up the following week and being distracted by a man that appeared to want me, who was dangerous on top of that, was the last thing I needed in my life right now, especially since I suspected he’d be the type to want to control my every move.

“I won’t be on his list of women,” I muttered to myself and turned on the tv to watch a movie while I planned everything with my music recording. Two hours later, I was under the covers dozing off to sleep.