The Devil's Necktie by John Lansing Page B

couple.
    He asked Mia to have an abortion. He promised to send her to America, pay for an education at the university of her choice, set her up in business after she graduated, and take care of her and her mother for the rest of their lives. She respectfully said no, as did his son. They planned on getting married with or without his father’s approval.
    Jose Ordinola threw down the gauntlet. He ordered Mia to have an abortion.
    He sent men to her home to have a “discussion” with her mother. The harsh message was disturbingly clear, and her mother, severely chastised and hysterical now, tried to intercede on Ordinola’s behalf. But Mia refused. It was a mortal sin. It went against everything she believed in, would break her heart and send her to hell. The lovers accelerated their plans to elope before the week’s end.
    When Mia had first recounted her story, she had started to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes looked haunted, her skin visibly paled, but she’d struggled to go on. She needed to be understood—wanted Jack Bertolino to understand why she did what she did. She forced herself to continue.
    Mia had received a handwritten letter inviting her to a weekend retreat at the Ordinola country estate just days before the secret marriage was to have taken place. A car would pick her up, she could spend time with her boyfriend and his extended family, and all would be forgiven. It was time to bless their union.
    Her boyfriend was overjoyed when he heard. He was doing some work on one of his father’s stud farms but promised to meet her there. Mia felt that her prayers had finally been answered.
    Saturday afternoon, at the appointed time, a long silver limousine pulled to a stop in front of her home. Her mother was understandably anxious, but also hopeful, knowing the wealth and position in Colombian society that would follow the wedding. Neighbors lined up two deep on the sidewalk in front of their modest home to see the finely waxed car sweep their most famous daughter away.
    Mia had chosen to wear a proper white cotton summer dress with a light blue collar that accentuated her blue eyes and blond hair. It had impressed the judges at her last pageant, and she hoped her father-in-law-to-be would approve. Just give her some time, and she’d win him over.
    Mia, feeling pampered, leaned back against the thick leather seats of the grand car. Her freshly manicured hands cupped her budding pregnancy, and she wondered what it would feel like when the baby finally kicked. She laughed inwardly at the horror stories she’d heard about morning sickness, because she had never felt as strong or as happy in her entire life.
    Mia remembered catching brief glimpses of the imposing Spanish-style mansion through passing tree branches. Her palms had uncharacteristically started sweating. She pulled out her compact, powdered her nose, and then sat back ready to experience whatever miracles life had in store.
    The limo pulled into the wide, sweeping, pavered driveway and eased to a stop in front of massive oak doors. The only movement she could detect was the thick spray of water shooting up from the ornate carved stone fountain in the center of the impressive courtyard. The driver opened her door and helped her out. He lifted her bag out of the trunk and assured her that they were the first to arrive, but the rest of the party would follow shortly.
    The driver lagged a few steps behind, and then reached around her and rang the doorbell. Mia understood that her sudden nervousness wasn’t unfounded as soon as the thick wooden doors were pulled open and she saw the thin man with the black eyes and the tight smile extend a hand. She reflexively took a step backward but was violently shoved into the foyer by her driver. The man standing at the entrance to the grand house was one of Jose Ordinola’s enforcers.
    He grabbed Mia by her long blond hair and stopped her scream by driving home a gut punch,