CHAPTER 1: El Heraldo

The reflection in the mirror stares back at me but I don’t recognize the woman in it. She wears a black lace ensemble– which I’m like one hundred percent sure is the same price as three months of my rent put together. 

You can definitely tell by my facial expressions in the very same mirror that I am absolutely not used to being in this type of getup. But I gotta give credit where credit is due. The lace feels amazing against my skin and the way it shifts across it makes it feel like a soft whisper.

I’m a curvy latina and somewhat of a prude when it comes to these types of clothes. Growing up in a religious household any clothing resembling lingerie would have been seen as a sin and according to my mother, I’d already been cast to hell. If she could see me now she would be turning in her grave. I mean she’s not actually dead physically. She’s just dead to me and my family.

Gotta admit it though, my boobs and legs look damn good right now. The bustier corset thing cinches my waist just right and it pushes my breasts until they almost spill over the scalloped edges. To finish off my look of lady of the night, the makeup artist gave me the iconic smokey eyes and the hairstylist those beautiful hollywood curls I always see celebrities wear to red carpet events.

I can tell you right now. 

This is not me. And yet tonight, it has to be.

The room I was put in to prepare smells of the sandalwood incense currently burning over by the vanity. It’s meant to help calm my nerves but those have been fried the moment I stepped foot into this place. They probably meant for the painted burgundy walls to feel sexy and erotic. Right now they just look like dried blood. Like I’ve walked right into the bloodied mouth of a predator feasting on its meal.

Feeling the need to move I make my way back to the beautiful vintage vanity and trace my fingers along its edge. Such a beautiful and delicate piece of art and the fact it's forever home is El Santuario should be a crime. Everything in El Santuario is expensive, extravagant, and in my opinion, excessive. Even the simple robe they’ve given me to wear is silk so fine it feels like I'm walking around being hugged by a freaking cloud. 

The knock on the door startles me out of my thoughts and by instinct I clutch the robe closed over my almost naked body. I guess my brain is still trying to preserve some type of modesty which seems absolutely ridiculous given what I’ve agreed to do tonight.

“Come in”

I’m expecting to see a crusty looking perv of a man coming in to drag me away on to whatever show this is going to be. Instead a pretty young woman enters the room holding a tray with a glass and water bottle. She wears a simple black dress with the Santuarios’ emblem embroidered in gold at the collar. 

Her movements are so quick and efficient when she glides across the room to put the items down on the vanity. Not once do her eyes linger on my state of nakedness. Seems she’s seen it all.

“Water, miss.” Her voice was gentle, touched with a soft Central American accent I found to be comforting. She points to the water and glass. “Please make sure to stay hydrated.” Damn, even the water bottle and glass looked expensive.

“Thank you,” my voice comes out thin and uncertain. Almost unfamiliar. I was raised to be self assured. Someone who never let anything or anyone make her feel less than worthy. Right now though; right now I feel defeated.

The young woman nods and turns to leave, but in a moment of bravery I grab for her sleeve to make her stay even if it's just a few more seconds.

“Wait–please.” The words tumble out of me in a panic. “What exactly is going to happen out there?”

She pauses and looks back at me with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“El Heraldo didn't assign you a partner or give you instructions?”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. “All I was told is that tonight there is some sort of auction and I’m taking part in it.”

The woman's expression shifts from confusion to what I want to believe is concern. “Usually, the girls are prepared before the show. The Ofrenda, that’s what they refer to you as, will be paired up with a male counterpart so they can showcase their talentos for Los Amos. Have you not prepared with someone?”

“No.” The single syllable hangs heavy between us. Like the woman doesn’t know how to respond to the fact I am unprepared.

“Heraldo has you doing the auction alone.” She studies me, and I have to keep myself from squirming under her gaze. Her hand moves to touch my cheek and I don’t make a move to stop her. Her expression immediately changes into a smile. Not a friendly one but also not wicked. Like she just found the last clue to a puzzle.

“He must see something very special in you. Solo’s are rare. Very rare.”

The knot in my stomach tightens and I’m starting to feel nauseous. I take a deep breath and take a step away from her in case I need to hurl my guts all over this fancy ass room.

“What does that even mean?” At this point I’m curling into myself. Anxiety creeps in and I need to find something else to focus on or I'm going to drive myself insane.

“Pon atencion nena. If there’s one thing you need to know is to listen and let Heraldo guide you through it. Do not doubt him because the moment you do…” she doesn’t even need to finish the thought because I know what will happen. I won’t get any bids.

“You’re scared. That’s good. Los amos like it when you’re a little scared of them. Don’t try to hide it.” 

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

A sigh of relief and a smile graces her face. I hadn’t noticed but she’s older than what I thought she was. “Good. Make it work in your favor.” She pats my cheek with her hand and turns to make her way towards the door. “Twenty minutes. I’ll be back to get you.” I turn to look at the clock behind me. Ok. Twenty minutes. I can handle that.

When the door closes behind her, I sink onto the velvet bench before my knees can give out. Twenty minutes until I offer myself to a room full of strangers. Twenty minutes until I lose all sense of freedom and sign my life away to become property.

The room begins to spin again and I close my eyes, letting my mind drift back to the reason I’m in this mess in the first place. Back to that night, three weeks ago, when the rain in Los Angeles not only washed away my tears but brought devastation into my life.

***

My scrubs are already soaked through and clinging to my body like a second skin, but I could give two shits about what I look like right now. Twelve hours on my feet working the ER. Trauma’s coming in and out due to heavy flooding in areas. People not realizing they needed to drive the speed limit if they’re stupid tires were bald.

Twelve hours of hell and here I am on the steps of the hospital sobbing into the cold wet night. My fathers diagnosis papers were tucked inside my bag, protected from the rain. Stage three pancreatic cancer. 

Mi Papi. The strongest man I know, reduced to statistics and survival rates. For years it was just him working and keeping us afloat. Mother dearest decided she didn’t want to be part of a poor family anymore and left us. Turns out her life wasn’t much better anyways. Her newly rich husband framed her for fraud and she’s serving time in federal prison.

We thought we had finally caught a break and we were going to be good when I graduated from nursing school and immediately got a job at the hospital. That happiness lasted for a few months until papa’s health started declining. By the time I finally convinced his Mexican ass to go to the doctor the cancer had severely spread.

My aunt had a favorite dicho, a saying. “Nomas falta que venga un perro y me mie.” All that’s left is for a dog to come and piss on me.

I guess you could say the sky's the dog and the rain its piss because Miguelito also got a letter. My baby brother, the genius of the family, has been accepted to Stanford University with a partial scholarship. His dream school. Our dream for him. The first Carrillo to make it to an actual University and an Ivy League one at that. But the partial scholarship might as well have been no scholarship at all– the remaining cost of the semester was still astronomical.

I’m not going to let the cost of tuition be the reason my baby brother didn’t make his dreams come true. It’s my job as the oldest daughter and big sister to keep this family afloat now. Two pieces of paper have changed our entire lives. One represents death and the other a new life, a new beginning. The only thing they have in common is the fact they both require a ridiculous amount of money I do not have.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it but maldita sea I’ll figure it the fuck out,” I whispered out into the rain. The rain is starting to give me a headache so I should start heading to my car and get home. “I have to figure something out and fast.”

I’m gathering my things when a pair of black shiny shoes appeared at the edge of my vision. They stop just before me on the bottom of the steps. I’m slowly looking up because if this is some weirdo coming to ask for drugs or something I gotta be ready to run. Night time around an ER in LA is a dangerous place. The man before me stood in a tailored suit and a face that seemed carved from stone and shadows. He stood under an umbrella, watching me with eyes that saw a little too much.

“I’m sorry sir,” I say, wiping away my mocos and tears off my face. Of course a handsome man would find me all mocosa and a complete and utter mess tonight. “Let me finish grabbing my things and I’ll be out of your way.”

“You said you needed to figure something out.”

His voice stopped me cold—deep, rich, and smooth, laced with an unmistakable edge of command. “Something financial, perhaps?”

His words made my body flood hot with embarrassment. No one was supposed to hear a word of that. Duh Ale. You’re out in public and talking outloud and you expect no one to hear you? Get a fucking grip.

“That is none of your concern, sir.”

“Perhaps it could be.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a white business card. He holds it out to me between two manicured fingers. “There are solutions for women like you.”

“Women like me?” My voice hardens and I’m preparing myself for an attack. I may be five foot two but I can take a man down if it comes down to it.

“Yes. Women who are beautiful. Desperate. Brave enough to do what is necessary to survive.”

I should have known better. Should have told him to keep his card and his creepy offer. I should have slapped him in the face and walked away like a bad bitch. But I’m weak. He’s right too. I am desperate and I need help. 

Instead, I took it.

The card has a single word in gold lettering: El Santuario. Beneath it, a phone number.

“What is this?”

“Think of it as a sanctuary for those in need of something... like money. Some come to offer it. Others come willing to offer something else in return—submission.”

We stand in silence for several minutes, rain pouring around us. Droplets slip from my hair onto the card, but the ink doesn’t bleed.

I tilt my head up and raise my chin in defiance. “I’m not that type of woman.”

“The choice is yours,” he said, smirking. “Call me if you decide your little problems need… extraordinary solutions. Which, let’s be honest, they clearly do.”

I was left staring at his back as he walked away. Disappearing into the darkened parking lot. I slipped the card into my purse, where it stayed buried like a secret for three days until I finally made the call.

***

I’m pulled back into the present when I hear a loud knock and in comes the woman from earlier.

“It’s time.”

I stand on shaky legs–which feel like they’re not even part of my body– and walk towards her. She helps me remove the robe, adjusts the lingerie, and gives me a once-over.

“You’ll do well, muchacha,” she says, and I can’t tell if it’s encouragement or if she knows for a fact I’ll be fine. “Recuerda– let Heraldo guide you. Don’t speak unless he asks you to and keep your eyes down unless told otherwise.”

She leads me through a dimly lit hallway where the air grows thicker with incense and the longer it takes to get there the more my anxiety is beginning to eat away at whatever nerves I had left.

Music pulses behind the walls– something orchestral but with a modern beat that makes my pulse sync to its rhythm. I would have thought they’d be playing strip club music to be honest. After a few minutes of walking we stop before a set of heavy velvet curtains the color of midnight.

“Wait here. He’ll present you to los amos when it’s time.”

She pats my shoulder as she turns to walk away and within a few seconds she’s gone and I’m alone with only the curtain between me and whatever comes next. Through the fabric I hear a man’s voice– the same rich and commanding voice I’d heard back on that rainy night. 

El Heraldo.

“Gentlemen of Santuario.” His voice carries without needing to shout. “Tonight, I have a special Ofrenda  to offer you all. Something pure and untouched by our world. A diamond discovered in the rough.”

The crowd murmurs and I press my palms against my abdomen, willing the butterflies to settle.

“This ofrenda comes to us not from our usual channels. Not trained in our ways. And that, my friends, is what makes her priceless. For what you’re bidding on tonight is not just flesh– though god knows this flesh is divine– but the rarest of opportunities: to be the one who introduces her to this world and to mold her to your exact liking.”

The murmurs become louder and my breath is quickening.

“She stands behind this curtain, trembling like a newborn fawn. Afraid, yes. But brave enough to be here. Brave enough to offer herself for a cause greater than her own desires. A kind of nobility that does not grace our presence often.”

Sounds of agreement can be heard coming from the crowd of men.

“I present to you tonight's main event– Alejandra.”