The Fallen Angel

Chapter One: The Reunion | Vol. I

"The city of Ángeles Caídos was controversially established by industrialist Esteban Sandoval in 1866. The reason as to why the establishment was controversial was due to the historical tragedy in 1532 after the fall of General Rodrigo De La Vega, whose entire legion was ambushed and slaughtered in the valley, leading locals to believe the blood-soaked canyon was forever cursed. The Spanish therefore named the valley Ángeles Caídos, since it was seen as a place where the virtuous were doomed to fall to evil. The Spanish did not touch the area, and neither did the government of Mexico after its independence officially was established on September 27, 1821. But Sandoval was not scared of some superstitious tale. Where generations of folk had seen nothing but damned soil, he saw a clear opportunity, leading him to buy the land, and so he established a city right in the centre of the valley."

The tour guide's voice was slowly fading into the background, totally drowned out by the roar of the bus's engine as it made its way through the Valle Centre of Ángeles Caídos, which was the industrial and residential hub of the city.

On the bus was Alexia, a young woman in her early twenties, who had just arrived in the city to visit her old high school friend, Phoebe, whom she hadn't seen or heard from in years, but all it took was one message from Phoebe for Alexia to get on a plane from San Francisco and fly all the way to Àngeles Caídos.

Alexia wasn't a big fan of Ángeles Caídos. Before travelling, she'd done plenty of research, and the city's reputation was anything but flattering. Ángeles Caídos was notorious for its violent crime, corruption, pollution, and staggering inequality. The wealthy secluded themselves in the gated mansions of Las Alturas or the luxurious cliffside villas of Los Altos, enjoying sweeping views of the bay while looking down, both literally and figuratively, on the rest of the city.

At the heart of the city lay the valley below Las Alturas and Los Altos, where the crowded streets and high-rises of El Valle Central bustled with businesses, commuters, and flat dwellers. Nearby, the ageing flat blocks of Barrio del Valle and the tightly packed neighbourhoods of Poblado Costeño were home to much of the city's working class, many of whom struggled to make ends meet in the shadow of the hills. Along the southwestern waterfront, the factories, warehouses, rail yards, and shipping docks of the Zona Industrial did little to improve matters, filling parts of the city in smog, while serving as a constant reminder of just how divided Ángeles Caídos really was.

So, it was with an ambivalent heart that Alexia found herself stepping off the bus and onto the bustling streets of El Valle Central, but she was determined to make the most of her visit and most importantly, catch up with Phoebe.

***

The first few days in the city had gone smoothly. Alexia had yet to meet up with Phoebe, who strangely enough hadn't responded to any of her calls or messages. However, despite Phoebe's absence, Alexia had made an effort to explore the city on her own, visiting some of the city's attractions and trying many of the various street foods the city had to offer.

She was staying at a modest hotel right in the heart of El Valle Central. Nothing fancy, just a clean room with a nice bed, a desk, a tiny bathroom, and a window looking out over the noisy streets below.

However, city traffic wasn't exactly ideal for a peaceful and relaxing run, so Alexia had decided to head straight for the nearest metro station, and after several stops, she got off at the station closest to the northern edge of El Valle Central. As she walked up the stairs and out of the station, she immediately noticed the large and luxurious hotels along the beachfront promenade, the massive football stadiums in the distance, and the grand estates of Los Altos perched high up in the hills of the valley, overlooking the whole area.

Taking a deep breath of the salty sea air, she did a quick stretch before setting off on her run toward the beachfront promenade, while listening to a favourite playlist of upbeat tunes. It was a nice day, warm but not too hot, and along the beachfront she could see other people jogging, walking their dogs or just lounging on the sand, soaking up the sun. Out in the water, surfers were riding the lazy waves, and in the distance, she could spot over several dozens of yachts and sailboats bobbing gently on the calm waters of the bay.

Alexia glanced at her watch, noting that she'd been running for about twenty minutes now, her pace steady around 6'30 per mile. She was feeling good and decided to push herself a bit more, but then her music in her earbuds suddenly cut, replaced by the ringing tone of her cell phone.

Alexia slowed down to a walk, pulling out her phone only to realise that it was Phoebe calling.

"Finally," she thought to herself, answering the call.

"Hey Alex! OMG, sorry, I know you've like, been trying to reach me, but I've just been like... so super busy," Phoebe said breathlessly into the phone. Her voice was weirdly different from what Alexia remembered. Firstly, her voice was way too sweet and high-pitched, and secondly, every word seemed to be dragged out in an exaggerated manner. It sounded painfully forced and unnatural, like someone trying to do a bad ridiculization of a porn star. Alexia was suddenly unsure, if this was even Phoebe at all.

"Phoebe? Is that... are you okay? I've been calling you for days..." Alexia asked, her voice tinged with concern. In the background, she could hear what sounded like a distinct thump of heavy bass, wild laughter, the sound of clinking glasses, and the splash of people jumping into a pool.

"Oh, totally! I'm, like, literally so amazing," Phoebe giggled breathlessly, followed by a loud, slow sniffle. "I'm just, like, having the best time ever, you know?" she added.

"Are you at a party right now?" Alexia asked, frowning as she listened to the sounds coming from the background.

"Um, yeah! The party is huge," Phoebe sighed, sounding totally spacey. "You have got to come over right now. I'm at this crazy estate up in Las Alturas. It's my guy's place, but whatever, what his is mine, I'm sure he won't mind if you come over. I'll send you the pin on your phone. Hurry up, okay? We have, like, a million things to catch up on!"

Before Alexia could even respond, Phoebe hung up, leaving Alexia to wonder whether she should go to the party or not. However, her thoughts were interrupted by a buzz on her phone, Phoebe had already pinged her the location of the estate, and it turned out to be none other than the infamous and historic Sandoval mansion.

"Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe..." Alexia muttered to herself, shaking her head, "Why on earth would you be at place where Don Gastón "El Tragón" Sandoval lives".

Alexia knew exactly who Don Gastón "El Tragón" Sandoval was, obviously he was a descendant of Esteban Sandoval, the founder of Ángeles Caídos, but more importantly after the Sandoval family lost a lot of land and money, it was Gastón who had managed to reclaim the family's empire and control over the city through a combination of ruthless business tactics and political manoeuvring. He was known as "El Tragón" due to his appetite for power, wealth, but also for women, and he was known throw the most extravagant and decadent parties in the city. He was also rumoured to have connections with dangerous criminals, but no one knew for sure if these rumours were true.

Sighing, Alexia pulled up a rideshare app on her phone and ordered a car. She was going to the party, and she was going to have to pull Phoebe out of that party, whether Phoebe liked it or not.

***

Facing the mirror, Alexia took one last look at herself before heading out to the Uber, she had ordered.

She had swapped her sweaty running gear for the dressiest thing that she could think of in her suitcase: a sleeveless, dark-emerald body-con dress that hugged her natural hourglass frame, paired with low-heeled black ankle boots. Standing at five-foot-seven, the dress complimented her tall, curvy figure while still being practical enough to move in. She left her thick, dark curly hair down, letting it bounce wildly around her shoulders.

In the dim bathroom lighting, her eyes stood out most of all; a striking, pale sea-glass green, a rare gift from her mother's side of the family. Looking at herself, anyone in Ángeles Caídos would immediately assume she was local. With her warm Latina skin, dark curls, and features inherited from her father, she looked like she belonged right here in the valley.

The irony wasn't lost on her. Her father had spent her entire childhood aggressively insulating her from his heritage. He had steadfastly refused to teach her a single word of Spanish and went out of his way to block every curious attempt she made to learn about her roots. To him the past was better left forgotten. Sure, she picked up a few words here and there, but it just wasn't enough to hold an actual lasting conversation in the language. And yet, here she was, in a place where she looked like everyone else, but felt like an outsider as she couldn't understand a word of the fast-paced chatter around her on the streets.

Satisfied with how she looked, Alexia grabbed her phone and purse, heading out of the door.

Down the street, the rideshare's hazard lights were already flashing, indicating that the driver was waiting for her, and she walked over to the car and got in, closing the door behind her.

"So, where to, miss?" the driver asked in accented English, eyeing her in the rearview mirror.

"La Residencia Sandoval"," Alexia replied, leaning back into the headrest as the car pulled out into traffic, beginning the steep, winding climb out of El Valle Central and up into the hills of Las Alturas.