Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 1.5 Female Perspective

The Socias family has been Costa Rica’s dominant drug cartel for generations.

Though smaller compared to Mexico and El Salvador’s massive cartels, it has a certain history and has had a certain amount of influence within Costa Rica.

It had.

Yes, past tense.

It was nearly 30 years ago that the Socías family boasted its power, and since then it has been in steady decline.

What was once a thousand-member organization now numbers in the double digits, reduced to the scale of some small-town mafia.

As the only daughter of the Socias Family, I was born into this legacy.

My father was the feared leader of the Costa Rican drug trade, his achievements largely responsible for the family’s zenith three decades ago.

He must have committed countless dirty deeds.

Murder, theft, and bribing local politicians.

He’d dipped his hands into every kind of evil, not just the drug trade that was his main business.

That was the only way to survive in this world.

My father had climbed the ranks of the underworld through every manner of crime, becoming so feared in San Jose that there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know his name—

And when I was five, he was assassinated right before my eyes.

He was shot through the head from behind during a family gathering, dead before he hit the ground.

Of course, a famous cartel boss like him wouldn’t be killed so carelessly.

The mansion was always heavily guarded, and the bribed police kept watch too.

The killer was family.

My father’s trusted confidant—a man he’d considered a brother—plotted a coup and assassinated him.

Later, I learned that this man had been working with a new overseas cartel to take over the Socias Family.

But the coup failed.

The Socias Family had a long history. When their boss was killed, almost no one sold out to outsiders. The coup leader was strung up by family members and killed.

However, after losing our patriarch, the cartel began to decline gradually.

Overseas cartels expanded and seized our territory, causing our membership to dwindle steadily.

Some members died in conflicts with rival cartels, but the main reason for Socias’ shrinking was poaching.

The overseas cartel that conspired with the coup leader must have had this as their goal from the beginning.

They incited the conspirator to kill my father, aiming to weaken the cartel’s long-term strength.

Having lost its centripetal force, the cartel soon lost the loyalty of its members. Eventually, they were lured away by money and drugs.

Even a child could understand that an organization without members would be forced off the stage. On the day I turned fifteen, the Socias Family was acquired by an overseas cartel.

The terms of the deal were simple:

If the cartel came under their control, the safety of all members and our family would be guaranteed.

The members would work as part of the new organization, while my mother and I were welcomed as guests in the new boss’s mansion.

Well, we made for excellent hostages, didn’t we?

My mother and I had always enjoyed the support of the “deeply devoted” members. I suppose they figured that with us confined in the mansion, no one would dare stage an easy rebellion.

For those who valued honor and pride, these terms were simply unacceptable.

The historic Socias would end up under the umbrella of some unknown overseas cartel, and the new boss was none other than the man who’d plotted my father’s assassination.

Yet my mother, who’d temporarily held real power, accepted these terms.

She’d always been kind-hearted.

Beautiful, young, and with a figure to envy – she was the mother everyone admired.

I imagine it was because of her long-standing familiarity with the members, or perhaps more importantly, her concern for her only daughter’s safety.

As a historic cartel, my mother understood the humiliation of selling out to a rival organization. Still, she believed it was better than having everyone slaughtered.

More bluntly, my presence was the reason for this surrender.

At fifteen years old, I attended the signing ceremony.

Naturally, representatives from both our organization and the opposing group were present.

Though we were nominally equal, their numerical superiority and overwhelming firepower made their dominance obvious.

The reason they insisted on my presence…

They must have threatened to kill me on the spot if the agreement wasn’t signed.

While I stubbornly refused to sign, my mother sold our family’s generations-old Socias.

Some called her a prostitute, but most understood it was done for our sake.

Formally, the Socias Family had been absorbed by a rival faction.

Some members had left, while others remained.

However, as a guest—though essentially a prisoner—in the mansion, events in the outside world meant little to me.

“Hey, Diana. You’re growing into a proper young lady now, aren’t you?”

The new organization’s boss was a man named Dylan.

Nearly twenty years younger than my father, who was in his mid-fifties, he dressed and looked like a modern youth.

He wasn’t the leader of a storied cartel, but rather the young head of a new mafia—just another vulgar man who’d do anything for money, from drugs to violence.

Of course, I understand that drug cartels are society’s scourge.

But even then, my father still possessed dignity and pride.

I never extorted money from society’s weak, and I limited my use of violence to fellow criminals.

But Dylan was different.

He sold drugs to children and killed troublesome people—whether they were ordinary civilians or not—using brutal methods.

The scum of scum.

That’s how I saw him.

“Ah! Dylan… Please forgive me…”

Having to watch my mother embrace that man every night was hell incarnate.

Though he called her a guest, she was essentially his forced mistress. Every evening, he summoned her to his bedroom.

By then, I was old enough to understand the nature of their act.

Seeing my mother pinned naked from behind, his rigid member thrusting into her, she wasn’t the gentle, beautiful woman I knew. Instead, she exposed some primal feminine aspect that filled me with visceral disgust.

“Isn’t this way better than s3x with that old man? You were destined to be held like this by me.”

“About your husband… Don’t say that…”

At first, my mother had been with that man out of duty to protect me, but gradually she began to show a more feminine side.

The eyes that once glared at Dylan with murderous intent now looked at him as if he were her new master.

I was too young to understand the subtle nuances between men and women when their bodies entwined.

“You’re becoming more natural, aren’t you? How’s my c0ck, hm?”

“Aah! Don’t thrust so deep… I’ll… I’ll—”

Seeing my mother expose herself so shamelessly to Dylan filled me with murderous intent.

But even more than that, I wanted to kill that man Dylan a hundred times over for turning my kind mother into a woman.

Moreover, that man had started casting lecherous glances my way too.

At fifteen and sixteen, having inherited my beautiful mother’s genes in full measure, I’d grown into a body far more alluring than girls my age—bluntly put, a body men found irresistible.

If this continued, I’d become that man’s mistress too.

Just then, a turning point arrived.

“Lady Diana. Let’s revive the Socias.”

On my seventeenth birthday, a man named Iglesias—one of my father’s closest advisors—whispered this to me.

Iglesias was one of my father’s most trusted confidants, older than my father himself.

He’d been the most ambitious among the original Socias members, and while not quite the second-in-command of the new organization, he’d climbed to a respectable position.

“Revive… How would we do that?”

I’d been pondering this question constantly.

My mother had become one of Dylan’s mistresses, and she probably never even thought about reviving Socias anymore.

In that case, I was the only one left to carry on my father’s legacy, a secret I kept hidden in my heart.

“There are many within the organization who share the same mind. If you were to become their banner, they would gamble their lives to stage a coup.”

The grizzled man with silver in his hair spoke with grave sincerity. He must have spent considerable time preparing for this.

Though we were outnumbered, with the right approach, Socias’ revival was entirely possible.

“So what do you need me to do?” I asked Iglesias without hesitation. If it meant restoring my father’s Socias, I’d do anything.

“I want you to… assassinate Dylan.”

At Iglesias’ words, I froze like a statue carved from stone.