Rosalinda shook with
fear. Carlos, her beloved Carlos, was just another Scarface.
He had done a miraculous job keeping her totally out of the loop. In
truth, she never much paid attention to anything, not as long as he kept her
supplied with Louis Vuitton, seaside mansions,
luxury yachts, fast cars, stylish clothing and jewels, oh, so many jewels. But
now she knew from whence this extraordinary lifestyle came, and she couldn’t
bring herself to continue enjoying this life to which she had grown so
accustomed. All gotten with blood money.
It was most definitely
blood money. All derived from dealings with the vilest of the vile. She knew
now, entirely by accident, but she knew about the drugs and guns and Lord knows
what else. Worse, she knew with whom Carlos primarily dealt. There lay the
problem. It had been fine when she knew none of this, but now.... not so fine.
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