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iii. the cabello's

i

The Cabello's. One of the most highly respected families in Hollywood and some even say in the world. A family that started with nothing many years ago and now has everything. And with everything I mean everything.

A family that through the years managed to build an empire all over the globe. An empire worth fifty-two billion dollars. Fifty-two billion dollars that place Alejandro Cabello on the list of the top twenty wealthiest people on earth, right between Michael Bloomberg and Daniel Gilbert.

Fifty-two billion dollars that have turned this family into an example of what every immigrant family wants to be. Wants to achieve. The epitome of the American dream. Money. Power. Success. An example for the rich, the middle class, the poor, the blacks, the whites, the Latinos. Everybody.

"I was drunk, D!" Camila exclaims, her phone pressed up to her ear as she paces through her spacious bedroom.

"You don't see me sleeping with my friend's ex's when I'm drunk," Dinah says through the other line.

"Dinah, you've literally slept with at least two of my ex's."

"Yeah, well... it's not my fault you've dated half of Hollywood."

Camila gasps. "That's so rude!"

"It's also so true!" she exclaims.

"Whatever," the Latina mumbles. "It doesn't matter anyway cause apparently, Keana has moved back to France with her family. So she doesn't have to know about anything," she says as she approaches one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the entrance to the house only two notice a black SUV parked outside.

"Did she really move to France?"

"That's what Hailee told me." Just as Camila finishes talking she finds her mother getting out of the parked car. "Damn it," she mumbles.

"What? What happened?" Dinah asks.

"My parents are here...they weren't supposed to be back until next week," she groans. "I gotta go but I'll see you in a couple of hours right?"

"Of course you will," the blonde exclaims, excitement noticeable in her voice. "I'm more than ready to get  you wasted tonight."

Camila laughs. "I'm hanging up now. Bye-bye," she says before hanging the call and walking out of the bedroom and towards the main stairs of the massive house.

"Honey," Sinu Cabello calls out, a very noticeable thick Cuban accent falling off her lips, as her daughter rushes down the stairs. "Camila, slow down dear. You are going to fall."

"Mom. What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until next week."

"Well, we decided to come home a little early," Sinu says hugging her daughter. "Did you cut your hair?" the woman asks grabbing a strain of brown curly hair.

Camila frown. "Not really."

"Oh."

"Is dad here too?"