He was definitely heterophobic—that had to be the only explanation for his behaviour but why did he ask her to bathe him in the first place?
Mora needed air, fresh air-anything to get away from that room. She left him to his tantrums and stepped out, walking briskly through the long corridor before descending the stairs that led to the living room. Her stomach grumbled. She could use something to eat.
In the kitchen, she looked around for Gustavo or one of the maids, but the place was empty. She went straight to the cooker, ready to whip something up for herself. She'd barely cracked an egg when a tall teenage girl walked in.
"What's for dinner?" the girl asked her tone sharp and high-pitched. "I'm starving!"
Mora turned, meeting her gaze. The girl paused mid-step, eyes widening as she looked Mora up and down.
"You're too pretty to be a maid," she said with a teasing grin. "Let me guess—you're my brother's nurse?"
Finally—someone who got it right.
"Morena-and you are?" Mora replied, extending her hand with a smile.
"Itzel," the girl said brightly, shaking her hand. "But everyone calls me Eazy."
"How swell," Mora smiled. "People call me Mora."
Itzel leaned casually on the kitchen counter, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. Taking a bite, she smirked like someone settling in for juicy gossip.
"So…" she drawled, "how's work been so far?"
Mora cracked a few more eggs into a bowl, choosing her words carefully.
"Well…" she hesitated, searching for a polite way to describe the nightmare. "We're… still getting acquainted."
"You can feel free with me. I don't have a pistol to pull over your head or have gun men behead you if you tell me the truth" she added
This one was even vocal about their tactics in handling people. Wow…Mora thought.
"Let's just say we are still getting acquainted," Mora replied with a cautious smile.
Itzel rolled her eyes. "With Guemo, it always is. You can't ever fully know him."
Mora transferred the fried eggs to a clean plate and sat beside her, studying the girl's open, friendly expression. Finally—someone in this mansion who didn't look ready to bite.
"Tell me, Eazy," Mora leaned in conspiratorially "Are there details about him I should know? He didn't really tell me much. I could use the help"
Itzel shrugged. "Honestly? I barely see him myself. None of us do, except Uncle Garcia."
That name again. Mora's curiosity deepened, the red flags she had been getting about this place pushed her curiosity to find out more.
"So can you give me like a summary of the family Eazy?" she said, spearing a piece of egg. "That's if you don't mind"
Eazy's eyes sparkled. "Of course! Uncle Garcia is the head of the family—he handles all the finances with Brother Eduardo."
Mora's mind flashed back to the man who'd pointed a gun at her. So that was Eduardo.
"Uncle's right-hand man is Brother Guemo," Itzel continued. "And Emiliano…" she rolled her eyes. "He's the spoiled brat of the house. He handles only himself."
Mora laughed softly. So that was the man I met in the living room the other day she couldn't find Guemo? She recalled.
"I'd guessed you were the spoilt brat" Mora joked
Itzel rolled her eyes "Oh please…even my nana is more responsible than Emiliano-and she's hardly ever around"
They both chuckled
"So, Uncle has no kids?" Mora asked. "What about your mum?"
Itzel's face twitched. "Mum tries to meddle in our lives and runs the estate. Eduardo's actually Uncle's son—but everyone in Mexico thinks it's Guemo."
"Why's that?"
"You'll find out soon enough," she said mysteriously.
"So what caused his accident?" Mora asked
Itzel bit into her apple again. "Shot during a construction deal. Fell from nine feet high. It's a miracle he survived—but he's Guemo. He always survives."
Mora froze. He always survives? Meaning… this wasn't his first brush with death? What had she gotten herself into?
Before she could ask more, a red-haired woman in a tight pencil skirt strolled in with Emiliano; both looked sweaty and dishevelled, whispering and laughing under their breath until they spotted Mora.
The redhead's smile vanished. "What are you doing here, Itzel? Didn't I tell you to finish your homework?"
Emiliano went straight to the sink for water, hiding a smirk.
"I finished an hour ago and came looking for you" Itzel's eyes moved slyly to Emiliano "When I didn't see you, I guessed you were…busy"
Mora bit back a laugh understanding the type of 'taking care of himself' Itzel was referring to earlier.
"Sorry," the redhead said quickly to Mora. "This one's mouth runs faster than her brain. I hope she didn't bother you."
She motioned for Itzel to go with her as she shot a knowing look to Emiliano.
Winking at Itzel as they both retired, she replied politely "No-not at all"
When the pair finally left, Emiliano lingered behind. He waited until they were out of earshot, then turned to her with a mischievous grin.
"We didn't quite get to be acquainted properly the last time we saw" he said smoothly
They exchanged greetings, and he leaned closer. "So, how's work been?"
"Good," she replied coolly. "And yours?"
"Don't do that-have my brothers for that!" he proudly said, dropping the empty bottle of water he had taken earlier in the sink.
Mora rolled her eyes inwardly. Families like this could afford this kind of people.
"Well," he continued, moving even closer, "if Guemo ever stresses you out—and he will—you could—"
"She could what?"
The voice cut through the air like a blade. It was Eduardo.
Emiliano instantly straightened, stepping back as his older brother entered the kitchen.
"Nothing" he replied forcing a courtesy smile at Mora and quickly exiting the room as if been chased.
Eduardo silently fetched a pack of ice, rolled up his sleeve, and pressed it to a red scratch on his arm.
Mora instinctively reached to help, but he pulled away.
She withdrew back to herself in her seat. So the only nice person here was Itzel and maybe flirtatious Emiliano.
As he moved to leave, Eduardo paused in the doorway. "Stay away from him," he said flatly. "He has a reputation with women."
"Noted," Mora replied, forcing a smile.
…
Night fell and the restless movement's Mora made up and down to avoid the room had come to an end. Mora entered quietly to find a sleeping Guemo on the bed. Gustavo must have tucked him in. She slipped into her nightwear quietly and was just settling into bed when his voice startled her.
"We have a function tomorrow," he said without opening his eyes.
Mora's eyes sprung open "Function?" she asked
"Yes-a campaign. You will need to attend naturally as my nurse. Gustavo will be more involved in security"
Mora bit back a groan, another day of being bossed around like a puppet.
"You have anything formal to wear? Traditional?"
"No" she tried keeping her tone polite but it still came out rude.
"Thought so." He tilted his head towards the sitting area "The box on that chair has a dress for you"
Mora raised her head, interest taking over her as she peered her eyes towards the sitting direction.
"How did you know my size?" she asked
"I didn't" he said dryly "Gustavo did-he sized you up"
Mora kept her resolve saying nothing. What if she didn't like the dress? He's telling her at night when they have the function tomorrow? She didn't get it. Everything in this house was done without asking opinions first.
Morning came in a blur. She had woken up to the sound of Guemo's thundering alarm and him fast asleep. She woke him up, undid his clothes and placed him in the tub-living him to his business-all done professionally this time.
As he bathes, she entered the room preparing for her own bathe. In her rob, she gently moved to the lounge, grabbing the sophisticated wooden box that stood on it. She opened it gently and she gasped when she saw the dress. Gustavo certainly had taste. It was a red Oaxaquena but with a corset. The base and off-shoulder top decorated with soft floral lace and delicate fishnet layers.
With a girly quirk, she jumped excitedly. Gustavo brought in his own outfit as well; was a typical Mariachi suit with similar floral patterns as hers drawn on the pads.
"Morena"! He shouted her name signalling he had finished.
Taking him out of the tub was another struggle but she succeeded. She wore his pants and when she had attempted continuing with his shirt, he's ordered her to take her own bathe. They live soon after taking breakfasts.
By the time she helped Guemo downstairs, the entire family was seated at the long dining table. Their stares lingered on her as she approached—some amused, some disapproving.
She placed Guemo's wheelchair on the space next to Señor Garcia and took a seat beside Itzel.
"You look gorge…," Itzel whispered, grinning.
Mora smiled shyly. "Thanks, Eazy." It was comforting to know that she will at least have one friend here.
Across the table, Ramona frowned.
Mora glanced around, taking in the family layout; Garcia at the head, a brunette Ramona didn't seem to mix well with at the other end and sited to his left was Ramona followed by Eduardo. On her own end, Guemo sat at Senor Garcia's right followed by her then Itzel and finally Emiliano.
"I expect everyone to behave appropriately at today's event," Garcia announced in a deep, commanding tone. "Emiliano, that includes you."
"Yes, Uncle," Emiliano muttered, uncharacteristically subdued.
The brunette woman spoke up smoothly. "And as Eduardo represents his father's interests, I've prepared a proposal that might help politically."
"Why doesn't Guemo present it?" Garcia asked.
"Eduardo is better suited for that Garcia," Guemo replied quickly.
Mora froze mid-cut, startled by the casual way Guemo addressed Garcia by name. No "Señor," no "Uncle." Just Garcia.
The brunette woman cut in, "Public image matters, Garcia. A man who can hold his family together can certainly hold a state together."
Politicians, Mora realized. That's their line of business?
She placed the sliced vegetables neatly on Guemo's plate.
"I haven't been introduced to this young lady," the brunette said, turning to Mora.
"Morena Lopez," Mora replied quickly. "Señor Guemo's nurse."
"Victoria Gonzalez," the woman said smoothly, smiling with a faint air of superiority. "Señor Garcia's fiancée" She peered her eyes towards Ramona as she completed.
Mora returned the polite smile, though the tension at the table could have been sliced with a knife.
And once again, she thought—What on earth had she gotten herself into?
…
The event was unlike anything Mora had attended before. Though she'd been to corporate functions, this one was more festive—understandable, given its political agenda.
Mora felt like royalty as she sat under the same stairway stage with the nobles. Sitting beside Guemo on a small raised stage, she felt both regal and on display. Whispers followed them—curious stares from the elite. The matching outfits didn't help matters.
She noticed the family's hostility with another running party-they called them the Gonzalez.
Eduardo stood to speak, voice steady:
"Buenas noches, Good citizens of Jalisco. I stand before you as living proof of my father's leadership—not just as a public servant, but as a man of integrity and vision. At home, he has been a pillar of strength, raising me and my siblings with discipline, compassion and values that have shaped us into who we are today. Beyond our family, his hands have built progress for everyone-constructing motor able roads that now connect great municipalities like Tequila and Theresa which has facilitated trade of all kinds, and supporting the establishment of schools across Jalisco, Nayarit and Guanajuato, where our children's futures are being rewritten. My father has never waited for a title to make a difference-he has already been doing the work. Give him this office, and he will take the same love, dedication and vision that built our home to build a stronger, united community for us all. Thank you".
The speech was stirring, clearly crafted by someone skilled—Victoria, no doubt. The crowd applauded warmly.
Construction, Mora thought. That's another line of business? Why did they need to hold barn meetings for construction?
Mora observed the silent scorn between Ramona and Victoria; she watched how they subtly battled for the Primera Dama title with gestures and fake smiles. Now she understood Itzel's cryptic comments: Ramona managed the estate 'presently'. If Garcia married Victoria and won office, that power would shift. Ramona would lose everything.
Mora couldn't help but gaze at the thought of that, of seeing Ramona humbled.
After all the grand speeches, the parties retreated to an extravagant courtyard for dinner. The smell of slow-roasted carnitas hung in the air. Mora's thoughts drifted to Lupita—her talents deserved to be showcased in such places, not wasted in mama's kitchen.
On the day of voting, she swore to herself she will get Guemo to hire her.
As they moved as 'one big family' to their table, a bald man with a harsh glare approached.
"Aguirre" he dragged "I want to recommend you on that promising lie you gave out there, I must say you certainly and has always had a way with words" he spat sarcastically moving his cold eyes from Garcia to Eduardo.
"Nothing in that speech was a lie, Señor Gonzalez," Eduardo responded coolly.
"Oh, but it was. Let's start with your upbringing." Gonzalez's gaze sharpened, turning to Garcia. "Regarding leadership, your family is the last I should think of" He spat bitterly looking squarely at Garcia now "Your first son is a highly distinguished killer, the second a successful fraudulent business man, the third a notorious womanizer and you're only girl a drug addict. Addicted to the very substance you-"
Guemo's fists clenched hard on his chair. Mora swallowed hard as she observed him.
"Well…" Garcia interrupted before he could go further, tone controlled, "What can I say? Your sister writes the most convincing stories."
Sister? Mora blinked. Victoria?
Gonzalez turned to her, fury building. "Ah-of course, Victoria. Good at everything—except loyalty."
"I'm doing my job, brother," she muttered. Garcia slipped an arm around her waist to add to the provocation.
"And what is your job? Betraying your family for five-minute orgasms?!"
He's voice raised slightly. People were beginning to stare. Eduardo stepped in "Senor Gonzalez, I'll suggest you settle your family's matters privately. There's no need making a spectacle of ourselves here"
Gonzalez scowled, turning one last hateful glare on Garcia.
"I'll see you on voting day Aguirre. You better not do anything fishy like you always do to get everything you have"! He muttered under his breathe
"Good ridings to you too Gonzalez" Senor Garcia replied provocatively, raising his voice as if to assure onlookers that all was well.
At this point, Mora wished Itzel was around to fill her in on what all these drama was about.
They retired to their table with grace after that.
"What are they serving"? Guemo whispered to her unexpectedly. The brush of his hot breathe and hoarse voice sending tickling sensations to her.
"Carnitas"
"Fine" he inhaled "you don't have a lot of work cut out for you" he added
She smiled their first proper conversation in days.
"You did well Eduardo" Victoria said, raising her glass in a toast.
Garcia nodded in approval.
"Yes. Though I hear Gonzalez has already started projects in Tequila. If we're going to win this, we need to present something bigger—something the people need."
Ramona joined in. "A facility widely needed by the people," she said, smiling slyly.
Mora's mind raced. They weren't trying to help people—they were just trying to outdo their rivals. She frowned.
"What do you have in mind?" Victoria crossing her legs with a sly smile asked.
Mora remembered the reason she came back home in the first place and why she didn't exploit other opportunities in different countries that were naturally hungry for her profession. It was the lack in Mexico-especially Tequila. Although Ramona gave that suggestion for greedy purposes, it could still be exploited for the greater good.
Mora chipped in without realizing it "Tequila has always needed rehabilitation and shelter centres. The number of junkies and homeless people are outstanding in numbers"
All eyes turned to her. Ramona grinned. "Exactly what I was thinking. What better way to win hearts than saving lives?"
Encouraged, Mora continued, "And help doesn't always have to be physical. There are other things—"
Under the table, Guemo squeezed her knee—hard. She stopped.
The table was silent, intrigued and wary.
"What kind of things, Miss Lopez?" Ramona asked with a mixture of intrigue and annoyance.
Mora took a breath. Ignoring Guemo, she said, "Land rights. Many families are losing ancestral lands. They should keep ownership unless it's proven beyond doubt they can't manage it."
A long pause followed. Then Garcia spoke, neutral.
"We'll consider that… maybe in the future."
Mora smiled politely, already certain that "maybe" meant never.