Parents: Angelina & Vicente del Castillo (deceased)
Siblings: Celestina & Santiago del Castillo
Occupation: Capo for The Mob & CEO of del Castillo Development Group
Birthday: May 1st (Aries)
Faceclaim: Miles Gaston Villanueva
Hometown: Manhattan, NY
Pinterest Board /
Character Inspiration: Harvey Specter (Suits), Pablo Escobar (Narcos), Omar Navarro (Ozark), Kelly Severide (Chicago Fire)
tldr;
– EMILIANO DEL CASTILLO was born into a cartel family bound to the mob, raised in a home where affection and danger lived side-by-side. At fifteen, he lost his parents to a car bomb and inherited the responsibility of protecting his younger siblings while being shaped for leadership by his grandfather. By eighteen, he became capo, taking command of the Del Castillo empire’s lucrative real estate operations and its tightly controlled narcotics network. Now thirty-five, he is both a polished businessman and a strategic enforcer of the mob’s interests, known for his precision and respected for his unwavering loyalty to the family he helped rebuild from the ashes.
READ BELOW for fun facts, biography, possible connections.
headcanons & random facts
recently moved into a new house with his girlfriend and they now have a five-year old german shepherd called back up, and a samoyed puppy he gifted that miray called alfie
no moral compass as he believes in what needs to be done, has to get done
apart from being the CEO of the del Castillo Development Group, emil also owns a few nightclubs in the city and several other properties - he is a foodie, so he owns several restaurants too
loves building lego sets
does not take security lightly at all, he and anyone he deems important to him have cartel people shadowing them at all times. anywhere they step in, there are people placed there only to ensure their safety, heavily trained and armed
routinely chooses at least two days every month to leave nyc for relaxation
his favorite childhood memory is riding in the backseat while his mother sang along to old love songs - has a collection of all his parents' favorite albums in vinyl form
family comes first, always
can handle most issues without involving any type of emotion - and will come off as detached and ruthless because of this. taking down the gang that destroyed miray's childhood was not done out of revenge, but out of devotion.
emil and his gf host family dinner once a week and he still makes it a mission to make sure he sees his siblings separately at least once a week
do not make him play monopoly, he thinks that game is too long and a waste of his time
his first purchase as an adult was a private jet; his excuse for it was to ensure he and his siblings, cami included, could go anywhere they wanted - their first trip was to Switzerland for chocolate fondue
he loves miray durmaz so bad ✋🏻 do not talk to him or her about it ok
biography
TW: parental death, death, car bomb
Emiliano Del Castillo grew up in a house where love and danger were inseparable. His parents, Vicente and Angelina, were deeply affectionate but constantly consumed by their responsibilities within the cartel-operated mob. Emil never doubted they cared for their children, but he learned early that duty always came before bedtime stories and school recitals. Most nights, the house lights were still on at 3AM, conversations murmured behind closed office doors, maps, binders, and weapons laid out like part of the furniture.
As the oldest child, Emil was instinctively protective. Offering Celestina and Santiago a break and comfort when their parents' duties kept them away - blocking out the world, defusing their fears, explaining their parents’ long absences in whatever soft, reassuring way he could. Always aware that there was a quiet expectation that he would inherit the mantle his father, Vicente, carried as capo eventually.
That future arrived too soon - at fifteen, a rival cartel detonated a car bomb that killed his parents and shattered the world he understood. Despite his parents being gone, The Del Castillo empire - its legal shell companies, its cartel routes, its alliances, its enemies - kept moving whether he was ready or not.
His grandparents, Luis and Teresa, stepped in immediately. Luis, already a towering presence in both the cartel and global development arenas - returned to guide his grandson into the role that he was to excel at for the rest of his life. Teresa handled the younger siblings - Celestina grieving in silence, Santiago acting out until she steadied him.
But the responsibility of the future capo was already decided. Emil was the heir. Emil would carry what his parents left behind. He trained under Luis for three years; everything from strategic violence to political manipulation, from reading a balance sheet to reading a rival’s desperation.
Emil formally became the Del Castillo capo as a barely young adult, allowing Luis to step into retirement. Teresa remained the emotional backbone until her passing years later, when Emil and his siblings were already adults - but her loss hit them almost as hard as losing their parents. It was a before and after her death, as Teresa had been guidance and warmth that they could rarely ever find in the world that they grew up in.
Now thirty-five, Emil runs two kingdoms: the Del Castillo Group, built on real estate, hospitality, and high-end ventures and a cartel and mob network woven so tightly into the city that removing it would collapse half the infrastructure around it. Everything is perfectly planned, executed and thought of - an easy feat when supported by siblings that are as aware as he is of the position inside the organization.
To most, Emil is the quiet storm of the mob: measured, precise, untouchable. To those he loves, he is home - fiercely loyal, deeply protective, and willing to go to war just to keep them safe.
Nico's visit to Rikers Island had been arranged days before his arrival, i's dotted and t's crossed to ensure all he had to do was walk through the doors. Despite the exchanged looks that followed his presence, the visitation had been worth his time, which was not something he extended to many things. Adrien Brooks - a name that had surfaced from the sparse details pulled from the bomb planter, had not been difficult to read. A man who had been coerced into a position he hadn't fully understood until it was too late to back away from.
The names exchanged, Elias Hawthorne and Dominic Cahill, were ones Nico had looked into further once the visitation was over. Specifically the part ownership of Pier 47 Logistics - the same company that pointed into the direction of the Reapers, a connection clicking into place through Cahill's known ties to them. Though while Cahill had notably been responsible for Brooks's current placement, his name sat behind the prominence of Hawthorne's operation. His connection to the Sinaloa cartel however was the very reason Emiliano was currently sat across from Nico. Once the briefest of formalities had passed he took his seat and got straight to the point. "Turns out Adrien Brooks was Elias Hawthorne's straw man. How hard is it gonna be for you to find him?"
Although it seemed as if Emiliano wasn't too focused on the Pantheon and the fires, he had been researching a lot more than he cared to admit. Another capo getting stuck in a fire, at his own building seemed surreal to him - as if despite not having any deaths within their ranks, their organization had been hit the hardest. A meeting with Nico wasn't anything our of the ordinary, but he knew their focus these days laid on ensuring that everything was looked into and approved by the Don to avoid any mistakes.
Emiliano sat across from him, let the name stay between them for a moment as his brain played catch up. Elias Hawthorne was a familiar name, but he hadn't heard about him in almost years. Public figure, running away from the government - they were too frequent in his line of work. "Haven't heard about him in, at least, a few months." He admitted, which meant he knew that not just the police was looking for him. "But I know where to start. I'll say a couple of weeks, probably earlier." Which meant, he would make it his personal mission and call in favors as needed to get to someone that was, clearly, very well hidden. That being said, it would mean that Emiliano would be out of the country for a while once he got a serious lead. "I'll call you as soon as I find him." Since he assumed that Nico would want to meet him.
For a moment, her gaze remained fixed on his before slowly dropping to the shirt he wore, already buttoned, and then to the phone still occupying one of his hands. Neither held her attention for long before a small crease settled between her brows as what he was telling her finally registered. He was leaving for Spain. Miray had gone to sleep with her husband beside her and had somehow woken to find him already making arrangements to leave again. "How many routes?"
The press of his palm against her cheek drew her forward just enough to brush a soft kiss against his hand. Her own slipped free from beneath the duvet a second later, fingers finding his wrist before allowing it rest on top his. She left them there, tracing the line of his thumb with her own as though the gesture might somehow delay the inevitable. “Do they know you're married now?” It wasn't a serious question, at least not entirely. Miray had known the demands of his job long before she'd became a permanent attachment to his life. That understanding, however, did not make her any less willing to see him stolen away from her, even if it were only for a day.
A smile threatened to betray her disappointment as it tugged softly at her lips. “Feels like something they should know.” Amusement lingered beneath the words as she shifted a little closer beneath the blankets. “Maybe send out a memo.” This time, the smile surfaced fully, warming her features as she looked up at him. “That your wife wants you to sleep in.”
It was the look in her eyes, her gaze locking on him - that made him realize that his morning schedule was about to be rearranged effortlessly. His entire day, probably. Sevilla was still on the menu, but now there was less rush in his brain to get there and come back on the same night; as his new plan included convincing her of coming with. "Three or four." New routes, that was. And his crew there had tried enough times to make it his problem, she was already aware of this since he'd been on the phone with them multiple times over the past few days.
Emiliano didn't hide the smile at her following words and let out a playful, disappointed sigh. "Funny that you think I didn't announce it to everyone already." It was only a joke, but given the rings on their fingers, and probably the spring in his walk the past few weeks, anyone that knew him well enough could guess what it meant. Don't get him wrong, eloping had been the most special way of getting married, but he had no plans to hide their marriage.
His free hand reached over and fixed the duvet covering her, ensuring she was still comfortable before he placed that same hand next to her head and he leaned to kiss her cheek gently. "Listen," Emil whispered. He tried to hide his smile, but it stayed in the corner of his lips lifting up as he looked down at her. "I think I may need your help in Sevilla." He didn't, really. They both knew it, too. "What if, hear me out, I see something I like and I have to tell you about it tomorrow instead of right as it happens. Stupid, if you ask me."
Solana's brows pinched together as she thought back, then reminded herself not to do so because duh.. wrinkles. "Um," she paused then, trying to piece together flashes of the night through the haze of tequila, sweat and panic. If only she hadn't been intoxicated, she might've paid more attention to anything outside of herself and said muscle man. "Too fucking fast," she finally answered, her voice a touch quieter this time, like maybe the event had affected her more than she was letting on. "Maybe I'm remembering it was wrong, I don't know. I was drunk as shit. But, one second people were partying, and the next smoke filled the place and the stampede started. Like we literally saw the smoke before the flames. Reactions were totally delayed, for obvious reasons." She shifted slightly, immediately regretting it as pain shot through her ankle. Fuck. Her attention shifted back to Emil, then. "This was planned, right? —What do you know?"
Emiliano merely shrugged, "It doesn't take a genius to understand that - six fires across the city all in one day, one after the other." He admitted easily. Truthfully, there was no doubt for him about who did this either, solely because of the attack in Giulietta's, the only location and technically, the first open attack against his organization from Pantheon. Not a lot of people or organizations were brave enough to do such a thing when the Don's last name was attached to a building. "I want you to keep your eyes and ears open around here, any whisper, any strange person, let me know?" He had plans to talk to Eleanor Harrigan anyway; to make some business, but also placing some of his people in some locations that could be important down the line. He and Lana had been friends for a long time, so his next words came from that friendship rather than business. "And if you get a text from Pantheon, be prepared to deal with anything that you may think is completely buried to be used against you."
Emiliano and Celestina had been considered family long before now, which meant Emil returning from Ibiza married was significant regardless of how catastrophically inconvenient the timing happened to be. And so, she figured the least she could do was reward the achievement. The actual gift itself had arrived hours earlier, however, since there wasn't exactly a practical way to personally hand deliver a fucking yacht to someone, she'd settled on a bottle of Armand de Brignac Midas and the keys.
Her hand remained loosely wrapped around the neck of the champagne bottle as she stepped into the kitchen as her eyes landed on him. “Your timing is fucking shit.” Cami mused dryly, though her amusement was evident in the subtle curve pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Hope you know that."
Emil didn't stop searching her cabinets as Camilla stepped into her own kitchen; the penthouse almost a second house to him back when he was still living single life. He'd spent one too many nights after going out with his sister and Cami, who was basically another sister to him after so long. He actually smiled at her words, figuring she was talking about his elopement a few weeks ago, before the fire at Giulietta's and other locations. Though it wasn't one of his buildings set on fire, Emiliano had cut his trip short, all to ensure everything in New York was fine - he believed in doing things himself when a crisis happened.
He'd stayed within his limits when it came to the building, as it belonged to the Caravelli's but had kept busy with Pantheon instead, everyday spending any time he could on finding whatever he could from the Adrien Brooks lead and the Lady Luck footage that he'd yet to figure out. "Hey, at least we got something to celebrate." Not that he actually wanted to, as far as he was concerned all celebrating had been done in Ibiza, with his wife and their dogs. He finally shifted to look back at the blonde, "For me?" He gestured to the bottle in her hand as he grabbed a glass of water. "Why can't I find peanut butter anywhere in this penthouse?"
santiago was doing his absolute best to keep his mind at bay given the situations he and his siblings were in close proximity to. the island had a bit of a latent delay but the fire had put him in a bit of a paranoid state , a state which he was doing his best to avoid entirely. when a usual night would at least guarantee him two maybe three hours of sleep was now spent in ten minute increments checking his surroundings -- much like how he did when he was a child. his conversation with emiliano ran back in his head , they weren't invincible even if they'd gone twenty years without another mishap in that extremity.
so he tried his best to not give much of a reaction at emiliano's request but the look on his face was rather obvious. the worry , the exhaustion , the things left unsaid that quite frankly he preferred if they weren't. he was dealing in his own way. a deep breath escaped his nose , eyes still out onto the construction site , " what ? "
It didn't take a genius to realize that Santiago wasn't entirely in the moment where Emil thought he was, so at his reply to his request, Emiliano slowed down - allowing himself some pause to watch his brother for only a few seconds. Despite the distance imposed by the youngest del Castillo, who strived to be different than Emil, he still knew him. Better than most, if not than anyone. The capo had a different request and a reason to bring him out there that night, but for the first time since the incident at Carbone, Emil chose to put his job and Santiago's training aside.
Instead, he went over the last few days, trying to find out what seemed to be troubling Santiago. Unfortunately, he wasn't a mind reader, so he just asked, "What is it?" What was it that seemed to be causing him so much grief, for lack of a better word.
"Oh, I can," she smirked. Solana was nothing if not completely self assured and confident. "But this particular set of muscles can't be ignored." The Pantheon were really heating things up, literally, as of late. It hadn't worried her as much prior to this event, but now that people were literally dying and, well, she was very injured herself.. it was starting to feel all too real. She needed to amp up her ways if she wanted to keep herself safe.
She did a quick scan around them before answering his question, very much aware that information was key.. and in the wrong hands... "Look, your girl wasn't exactly sober," the brunette began, a weighted sigh leaving her. She needed a damn drink, stat. "But one minute I was on the dance floor, waiting for mister muscles to come back with our drinks, having the time of my fucking life dancing to On The Floor, and the next people were screaming." Given how packed and loud it was, and the fact that she was intoxicated, it took her a minute or two to realise they were genuine screams. "Then people were running. It was like a stampede.. people trampling over others and just.." Fucking chaos.
Emiliano only waved off her words, simply because he couldn't care less about who she was hooking up with. Despite not being best friends, he and Lana went way back and it often felt as if they knew too much about each other, sue him. He was a bit more interested in the night of the fires, though given her current state, Emil was aware that the chances of her seeing anything were very slim. Chaos was the only thing that stuck on Pantheon's method - so that wasn't surprising. It was their nerve to hit a rather well-known mob location that made Emil stop and think. Out of all the fires that happened that night, that one stood out not because of his ties to the Caravelli's but because it was a clear message. "Do you remember how fast the fire spread out?" He asked with a frown. Giulietta's was a big building, after all. Even if accelerant was used, the set up had to be planned way ahead of time to pull it off.
There had never been doubt in Celestina's life of what marriage entailed. Being an observant child helped her understand it early when analyzing and deciphering, needless of verbal acknowledgment, that the love which had existed between Vicente and Angelina was not an archetype that appeared twice in a single lifetime. Seldom did it appear once.
She had found it. As had Emil.
The fact the news of their marriage reached her through a photograph via iMessage of two rings with no further caption only made sense to her. It was a union that, in Cel's opinion, needed no one else present. For once, she thought, Emil had finally chosen himself, his own happiness. Not what was good for the family - just himself.
That thought echoed as she stepped onto the terrace where he stood post dinner, fashioning a cigarette between her lips as she reached his side. It was followed by the gold lighter engraved with her father's initials, snapping open with one hand to catch the first strike. "Bet you fifty grand Santi cried about not being your best man." A teasing tone laced the words that arrived through a cloud of smoke as she rested a hip against the railing. "And another fifty if he buys Miray a cow for a wedding gift."
It almost felt as if his marriage to Miray had allowed him boundaries that he'd let go of when he became the head of the del Castillo family. It wasn't due to his siblings asking him to give up everything that he had - they never had to, for Emil had stepped up when he knew that no one else should. It was succession of decisions that he made upon getting into their jet that night in April, to keep their union solely for themselves. Married Emiliano wasn't any different to before, but it was clear, if they knew him as well as his sister did, that he was happy.
Emil was working a cigar as he stood in the terrace that oversaw Central Park when Celestina stepped out, the familiar sound of their father's lighter earning her a small smile that he didn't bother to hide. "Worse, he showed up with a blender." He retorted teasingly, a shake of his head. Truthfully, he appreciated his siblings for showing up how they did, even if sometimes, he didn't understand them - or their gifts.
Letting out some smoke, he considered her words for a moment and then sighed. More humored than genuinely worried. "A hundred grand gone just like that. Really should have left the cows back home, didn't I?" After all, Emiliano was the one to bring them to New York, something about having them closer after his last visit to their family home in Sinaloa. "Do you think he's aware that my wife can beat him in a fight?"
The first trace of morning had only begun to pale the room when quiet movement pulled Miray from sleep, her eyes opening halfway beneath the fall of dark hair already loose across her face. Emil stood across the room, getting ready for the day before the bed had released any real claim on him, and her attention settled there with immediate offense. Each softened shift only carried him further from the her, which made looking away feel both impossible and entirely against her interests.
Alfie sighed near her legs, A sound dramatic enough to pull a glance toward the white ball of fluff curled at the foot of the bed, though it lasted no longer than the second it took for Emil to move again. “Thought being married meant sleeping in.” Sleep softened the words while her head lifted just enough to see him fully, the complaint aimed at him despite the heaviness already drawing her back down. “Why?” A small groan followed, quieter this time, before her cheek found the pillow once more.
Her hand slipped free from beneath the blanket soon after, crossing into his side of the bed where the warmth he’d left behind still lingered beneath her fingertips. Not gone long enough, then. The thought came easily, satisfied enough with its own logic. “Come back.” The faint pout that followed gave the request all the weight she intended, her body shifting only enough to leave his place open beside her.
It wasn't rare for Emiliano to start the day early. It went back to his years of training with Luis as a teenager; wake up early, go to bed late. His schedule had changed a lot throughout the years though; as he learned to do things his own way, to make it easier on himself. His morning alarm, however, had stayed the same. That was, until he had met her. Suddenly, the alarm wasn't snoozed but almost completely forgotten unless it was necessary, his entire day restructured without her even asking him to. It was a phone that had pulled him from their bed, one of his employees from out of the country calling about a route - unaware of the time difference.
The sound of her voice didn't surprise him, they were both light sleepers - the prime reason why he was out of bed instead of taking the call while in bed with her. He rubbed sleep from his own eyes as he hung up the call, and Emil's gaze found his wife, warm brown eyes following her every move as usual. A knowing smile slowly appeared on his face, as she seemed to be fully aware that pulling the marriage card still worked on him. "I don't remember that part of our vows." he mumbled teasingly, typing a quick text before he began walking back to bed.
His gaze, still soft with sleep, found her pout and all he could do was sit down on his side of the bed. The phone call meant he had to re-check not one, but a few of their routes as part of a system that he had come up with recently as they expanded in Europe. Not an immediate priority as it wasn't out of the ordinary, but time consuming. And yet, the idea of leaving right away sat wrong with him. He reached over and pushed some of her hair off her face carefully, finger brushing her cheek. "Didn't mean to wake you." Emiliano let out gently, tilting his head to the side to watch her as he considered getting back into bed with her; for twenty minutes that would, undoubtedly, turn into a couple of hours. "But I may have to spend the day in Sevilla today. New routes."
Escalation was something that Emil tended to look out for in any way that he could. Despite how peaceful things were in New York, he dealt with retaliation and offenses in Mexico often. Nothing that he couldn't handle after almost twenty years of doing his job. His way of handling the Pantheon was to be more observant than most, rather than to jump into action - to learn as much as he could about how they functioned. It was the combination of everything that they had caused recently that made him question what it all was really about. Things had yet to click for him, but it wasn't for a lack of trying despite how uninterested he seemed to be. He looked up from his phone, sending a text while he and Gwen finished up a meeting.
"What's your take on the Sebastian case?" Aside from his innocence, that was. Gwen had already made it well known that she believed in the man's innocence. Emiliano wanted more of her information regarding who could have set this up if that were true. It was more about him trying to connect the fires to the Councilman, or to ADA Grayson. Somehow. With the information they held about Brooks, he wanted to see who else could be involved that they could locate. "Want to know if any of your political contacts come to mind."
LOCATION: a construction site on the outskirts of the city
Emiliano didn't consider many situation as high stakes as other people often did. He was, thanks to year of therapy, rather aware of it being a trauma response that he still carried from the age of fifteen. Then it had became a part of his normal due to the nature of his job. He wasn't unattached or as cold as he often came off as. He knew this was part of the issue between he and Santiago - their communication didn't work the same way. Emil needed to remain neutral to be able to make decisions and to take measurements that were, often, the reason why the three of them were still alive to begin with.
He went from the high of his marriage to Miray and their secret paradise in Ibiza to terror in New York, another capo injured in the fires for starters, and then the realization that despite everything they did to guarantee their safety, Pantheon, because no one else could be capable of pulling this off so cleanly, still could overcome the obstacles that other opponents never had. He'd been working on the footage from Casino night again the last few days - still had made hardly any improvement, but he would get it somehow. Instead of meeting Santiago for their weekly lunch, Emil had drove them to one of their construction sites, hoping to ease the worry that he knew Santiago was carrying. Even if he hadn't voiced it. "Need you to do something for me." Emil muttered out of nowhere, after he'd explained his plans for the construction site.
Elena in her element probably looked half-mad, an iPad on her coffee table running one news segment, the television muted and running another, and her gaze currently on her phone as she let Emil into her home and headed back towards where her open laptop sat on the couch. "What's the opposite of a rabbit's foot?" she said, then glanced up, frowning a little. "Because that's how I feel. Deeply unlucky. Think you can tell Nico I'd like a moratorium on events?" The idea of Emil checking on her gave her a moment of pause, eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. It wasn't that she didn't trust Emil, but he knew how she dealt with traumatic events and the fire certainly fell into that category. Gingerly, she touched the injury on her head, wincing slightly before she dropped her hand. "I'm fine," she said, then sighed. "The fire itself was worse. Now I'm just stuck here until I'm allowed to properly do my hair. I look like I just rolled out of bed." A beat, and then she dropped to the couch and leaned back as she studied him. "Do you have something for me to do?"
Emil thought of her question for a second, for some reason deciding to answer it despite knowing he didn't need to. "One of those rainy clouds that follows you around." He offered as the opposite of a rabbit's foot, clearly in a good mood, even if he was annoyed by the latests events. That was something that differed Pantheon from past anonymous hecklers - they didn't only appear at events, but used them to gain something. What? Emil had yet to truly get to, maybe because up until now their organization had almost been absent in their path of destruction, at least to his knowledge. "You didn't like Robins Island?" He teased lightly as he made himself more comfortable on a different couch, his eyes barely paying attention to her choice of news. He would consider this better shape than he expected considering she was injured this time. Made him wonder what exactly triggered her episodes, not that it was his business if she was doing her job. "I might. Have you checked in with Chanel?" They were both fixers, so he assumed it was a good plan to start there since the hacker had more information than most these days.
While Chanel had taken a few days away to process the death of her sister, it wasn't long before the woman had thrown herself back into the hunt, working on the pantheon case more than ever. While she had always wanted to help put an end to things, their anonymity was now more than just a threat to her community. It was personal.
As Emil entered the room, Chanel glanced up from her computer, staring at him blankly for a moment or two. While she was surprised he hadn't offered his condolences, she was far more relieved than she was offended. Sympathies were never an easy thing to receive, because what more was there to say?
"Yeah, actually. I managed to find out a little more about the company. It's owned by a man named Adrien Brooks. He's a straw man for a local business man. The police haven't been able to find him, but Brooks is currently in custody."
Emiliano recognized it from a mile away; the feeling of needing to remain on task despite a pain that very few people could understand. Though his biggest loss had been years ago, he remembered exactly how he had dealt with losing his grandmother as an adult - and how helpless it was when there was no easy target to unleash the anger on. It was out of respect for Chanel that he didn't immediately acknowledge hers. Not for lack of caring or to avoid awkwardness, but because he knew that there was nothing to say at such times, that could make it better.
He let the name register in his brain, trying to pull news articles about him, anything that he'd filed away in his brain as not important that he could use to trace back to someone that mattered. "Do you have a name for the businessman?" He asked with an easy nod as he sat down across from her. His gaze remained on the hacker for a beat longer than normal and then he spoke up, "I want you to come to me if you think there is anything that I can do." And he didn't mean it only about her current task, but rather the situation at home. Although he was sure, the best that they could do, was help find whoever was to blame for the loss of her sister.
The ring slid into place before Miray thought to move. For a moment, she only looked at it, at the diamond catching a thin spill of light from above the table, at the way it sat against her hand with a quietness that made everything beyond it seem suddenly removed. Beyond the closed doors of the private room they were in, she could still hear the murmur of voices and the passing rhythm of someone’s steps when they came close enough for the sound to reach the threshold before fading again. Still, none of it registered properly. It remained outside with the rest of the world, unaware of the shift that had taken place at the narrow table between them.
Her thumb moved before she meant for it to, brushing the side of his hand with a touch light enough that it could have been mistaken for nothing before it stilled there. There should've been resistance. That quiet internal shift that came whenever something reached too close, followed by the instinctive need to make distance before anyone could notice she had been affected. But nothing in her moved back. Instead, his hand remained around hers, and whatever part of her that had always known how to leave didn't offer itself now. It was this absence, more than the ring itself, that held her still for a moment longer. One she might have given more thought to had she not lifted her gaze and found him immediately, and Miray leaned forward before the pause could become something she might have to examine too closely. Her free hand rose to his jaw with a restraint that made the touch quieter than it was as her thumb brushed his jaw and remained there, while the table between them entered her awareness with sudden irritation, no longer part of the room but the final stretch of distance keeping him from where she wanted him.
“Okay.” It left her barely above a breath, absent the hesitation anyone else might have mistaken within its softness. There was a faint movement at her mouth, not quite a smile, though whatever had softened in her face remained only long enough for him to catch before her eyes dropped briefly to the ring, granting herself somewhere else to place her attention before it became too much of a thing to be witnessed. There had never been any real refusal in her, only the delay of reaching what some part of her had known before he asked.
Her gaze moved toward the door, a brief thing that should have meant nothing, though it had already carried her beyond the room before she thought to call it a decision. Past the closed doors, the hallway would be waiting, and after that the car, and after that the plane to Ibiza, where no one would be close enough to turn what belonged to them into something that needed to be seen. She didn't want a ceremony large enough to require performance. She didn't want eyes on her hand or voices around them, anyone close enough to make the quiet feel observed. Miray only wanted it contained to the two of them, in a place that was theirs. By the time she looked back at him, there was no part of her still considering the room they were in. “Let’s go now.” It came without the weight anyone else might have tried to give it, though the faint shift at her mouth betrayed enough before she could smooth it away. “You think Jenna could meet us on the plane with the dogs?”
Her words didn't seem to enter his brain for a few seconds, as if he couldn't process them right away. They just repeated, over and over, along with the past thirty seconds of their conversation; her lingering touch on his jawline, her engagement ring on her finger. Even if Emiliano had asked her, he hadn't expected an immediate answer. And then she spoke up again, allowing him to see that she was serious - that she already knew exactly what she wanted.
It wasn't surprise that covered his features, or disbelief. For he wouldn't have asked her to marry him, if he hadn't known for a while now that she not only wanted him, but that she wanted the same things that he wanted. And yet there was something about her being ready to leave right now, tonight, without hesitation, that settled into his chest and stayed there."Okay." It was a genuine smile that broke out, followed by his free hand covering hers as she cupped his jawline and turned his head to press a kiss on her skin, the closest he could get with the offending table standing between them.
Emiliano simply nodded. Yes, Jenna could meet them there. And even without Miray mentioning where she wanted to be at, there was only one answer in his mind, one place that they already considered home. A place that was only theirs, for no one else they knew had even been there yet. The very first memory that they would make in their new house would be their marriage.
For once, in all thirty-five years of his life, he only considered how happy that would make him. He did not consider anyone that wasn't her, or himself and the family that they already were, and that in a few hours would be somehow more real. He didn't hide the smile widening or the way his eyes softened when his gaze met hers again before he spoke up, "I'll call the pilot when we're in the car."
