Without another word, I walked away, following Tomás through a secured doorway, down three darkened hallways, and into a familiar elevator that let us out in front of an ominous black door.
He stopped so suddenly I almost barreled into the back of him. “I need a name.”
I blinked up at him, debating what to say. The one on my tongue burned and to speak it out loud felt like serving myself up on an altar of the damned. But, to cross that threshold, I knew there was only one answer. “Marisol.”
“Stay here,” he instructed as he knocked an intricate code on the door and waited. Eventually, the door clicked, and he disappeared inside.
I hated the way my stomach seesawed back and forth while I waited for him to return. A few moments later, the door opened, and Tomás nodded. “Go on in.”
Blowing out a nervous breath, I pushed my shoulders back and moved past him, the words I assured Brody now singing in my ear like a taunting child.
“Cris would never hurt me or betray me. I’m safe with him.”
However, the moment I stepped into his office, my past circled around me.
It watched.
It waited.
And then it swallowed me whole.
“Marisol Muñoz. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adriana
Cristiano Vergara sat behind a sleek black desk, his elbows propped on the arms of his chair and his fingers steepled together under his chin. He looked older. Colder. Iniquitous with a razor edge that sent a chill down my spine. His eyes, the same ones that hypnotized me as an impetuous young girl, now held me immobile in the open doorway as a grown woman. Blue as the ocean with a depth that hid just as many secrets, they ripped back the layers of time as if they never existed.
Forcing my body to relax, I cocked my hip against the doorframe and shrugged the opposite shoulder. “I like to make an entrance.” My confidence sounded weak, but there was no turning back now.
Cristiano raised a dark eyebrow. “You always did. But a man has his limits, Mari. My patience isn’t infinite.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to cringe at that name.
“Well, you know what they say, good things come to those who wait.”
“Do you also know what they say happens when a woman keeps a man waiting?”
I flashed him a wicked grin. “She holds all the cards?”
“He reflects on her shortcomings.” His familiar eyes flashed, sending an unspoken message. Our past granted me certain privileges, but my silence set limitations.
At the end of the day, a Carrera was still a Carrera.
My name was a ticking time bomb, and that was why I pushed past his blatant intimidation and walked into his office with conviction, closing the door behind me. Standing in front of his desk, I glanced down at the wingback chair beside me with disdain. It was just a chair but lowering myself in front of him created uneven ground. So instead, I braced my palms on the edge of his desk and used it as a step stool while sliding on top of it, crossing my legs with a wink.
The permanent scowl he wore in response to my defiance was almost dangerous, unremorseful, and calculating. He looked decades older than his twenty-four years, and that was what made him so dangerous. Tall, muscular, with skin dark enough to earn a rank but light enough to raise an eyebrow. Men let their guard down around him because he didn’t look the part. He looked more like an underwear model than a ruthless killer. Underestimating him was always their downfall. The man was a cold-hearted criminal with a thirst for blood.
And the clock was ticking.
“It appears good news travels fast.”
He didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “They’re looking for you,” he said, lowering his hands. “It took balls to come here.”
“Yet, you knew I would.”
That earned me a ghost of a smile. “A tiger doesn’t change her stripes. It doesn’t matter what ambush she belongs to.”
Underestimating Cristiano was both a mistake and an asset. No one on Earth knew me like he did, which gave him the unique ability to anticipate my moves before I made them. Five minutes ago, I would’ve sworn on my life he’d never use that power against me, but now, I wasn’t so sure.
My hands clenched the edge of the desk, and I looked away. “Am I that predictable?”
“No, you’re that proud. And a fighter. I knew you’d come to clear your name eventually.”
It was time to address the elephant in the room. Twisting around, I braced a hand behind me and held his stare. “Speaking of which, I go by Adriana now, not Marisol.” I held my breath, bracing for the storm to roll across his face, only to find an indecent smile edge across his face.
“So I’ve heard.” Leaning forward, his smile widened. “Kind of scandalous to know I slept with the enemy for so many years.”
“Nothing about this is funny, Cris.”
“I know.” His voice lowered, his smile fading. “I told you, I’ve heard.” A sudden rustling drew my glance down to a stack of papers mangled in his clenched fist. “If I ever get my hands on the man who touched you—”
I laid my hand over his fist. “You won’t do a damn thing. This is my fight, not yours.”
Cristiano’s eyes went unfocused, and his face pinched together. For a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But as soon as they opened, the icy blue flooded with warmth, and the lines in his face turned downward.
Moving his hand out from under mine, he pushed out of his chair and paced. I couldn’t help but smile as he dove a hand in his hair, tugging at the brown strands until they pointed in every direction except the ones they were meant to. The ritual was so familiar that it was almost comforting. This was the Cristiano I knew. This was the one who would help me.
I watched and waited until his frantic pacing came to a stop right in front of me. Pulling back, he studied me. “How are you?”
I snorted. “Oh, just great. Escaping certain death by my own men kicked off one hell of a summer but kissing a man’s ass who I was groomed my whole life to hate really enhanced the excitement.”
“Mari…”
“But the biggest thrill has come from fighting an invisible man who’s decided to stir up a pot of shit soup and slap my name on it.” I clapped my hands together for dramatic effect.
He engulfed my wrists between two strong inked hands and gave me a pointed look. “I’m not talking about that, and you know it. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
I dropped my head back. “If you don’t believe me, then why ask?”
“Stay with me.”
I laughed out loud. “Yeah, okay.” Sliding off the desk, I tried to pull away from him when his grip tightened, his serious expression taking me off guard.
“I have connections. People who can get you to the top of—”
“No!” I yelled, jerking away from him, his eyes narrowing at the force of my outburst. Shit. He’d taken this conversation to a place I refused to go. I needed to redirect it back on track before he forced me to sever what little connection we had left. Palming my forehead, I let out a frustrated breath. “Look, Cris, I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t have a lot of time.”
“I know.”
“Then stop arguing with me and help me stop this pendejo.”
He crossed his arms, his stare evasive. “Even if I know something, what makes you think I’ll tell you? After all, El Palacio is still a Muñoz front.”
“Because a lion doesn’t stop protecting his mate just because she left the pride,” I said, throwing his own metaphor in his face.
I waited. For what, I wasn’t sure. For an argument? For vindication? For the door to be slammed in my face? What I got was a genuine smile as he shook his head in concession. “This is new,” he said, running a lock of my red wig through his fingers.
I grinned. “Do you like it?”
“No, but it definitely matches your temper.” Tapping me on the
nose, he leaned against the edge of his desk. “So, what do you know so far?”
Now it was my turn to pace. “His name is Ignacio. I know he has hijacked at least three Carrera shipments worth over thirty million. I know the Carreras captured one of the men who pulled the Chicago job.” Stopping to take a breath, I turned on my heels and launched into more word vomit. “His name was José Rojas, and yes, that’s in the past tense because he’s dead. He’s the asshole with my name in his mouth who set this whole thing in motion. I also know this Ignacio fucker scared the shit out of Leo Pinellas enough to put a gun in his own mouth right in front of me.”
“You have been busy,” he noted, stroking his chin.
I groaned, my nerves almost shot. “Cris…”
Closing the distance between us, he settled a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know who he is or his last name.” He tipped my chin up, and I met with eyes so serious I had to remind myself to breathe. “But I can tell you to stop chasing ghosts and start opening up closets. They’re full of skeletons that have been locked up for a long time.”
“What does that even mean?”
“This isn’t about an outsider coming in to take over. This is a vendetta. You want to find the truth? You need to look in your own backyard.”
“How would you know something like that?” I swallowed hard, not sure what I was more afraid of—his silence or his answer.
He didn’t answer, and we stared at each other in silence, the words he said breaking apart and piecing back together in my head
“I don’t—” Still in a daze, my voice trailed off as distant shouting drew my attention toward the closed door. Maybe subconsciously, I knew, and that was why I waited, listening as they grew closer and louder until finally capped off by the sound of bone hitting bone and a muffled grunt.
I should’ve reacted faster.
I should’ve held my ground with Cristiano.
I should’ve done a lot of things.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stood there like a statue as the door flew open, slamming into the wall behind it and then bouncing back into an open palm.
An open palm attached to an arm wearing a black button up soaked with Johnnie Walker Blue.
“Your ten minutes are up.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brody
The command may have been directed at Adriana, but my eyes never left the asshole with his hands all over her. Rage tore through me, my hands fisting by my side itching to take another swing. Coming here was risky, if not suicidal. I had a feeling not too many Muñoz men would dare bulldoze their way into this guy’s office, let alone a Carrera.
The man’s gaze shifted from me to Adriana. “Friend of yours?”
Adriana shifted under the weight of his hands, pulling away and crossing her arms over her chest. “Not even close.”
Not even close? Was she serious? Every fiber in my body wanted to yell, “Last night I had my hand buried in your pussy. How’s that for close?”
I scowled, and a clamor in the hallway broke the tension. All three of us turned as one of his men pushed past me, a stream of red blood pouring from of his nose, his expression a cross between fury and fear.
“I’m sorry, boss,” he whined, pointing back at me. “I had him, but he pulled a gun on me, and—”
“It was a finger gun, you pathetic sack of shit!” Pointing my index finger, I cocked my thumb while tucking the other three fingers into my palm, and the guard’s hands flew in the air. I blinked at him a few times before swinging around to face his boss. “Where the hell do you recruit these guys? Walmart?”
His boss crooked a finger over his lips, attempting to hide a smirk. “Let him in.”
The guard reluctantly stepped aside, and I stormed past him, only stopping long enough to kick my heel back and send the door slamming into his face.
“Was that necessary?” Adriana hissed.
The condescension in her voice kicked my temper into overdrive. In three wide steps I stood in front of her, rage vibrating off me in waves. “I said ten minutes. I don’t make idle threats. You should know that by now.”
“Brody—”
The smirking man perked up at the mention of my name, appearing by her side out of nowhere. “Brody Harcourt,” he said, and I wanted to punch that smug look off his face. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Funny, I’ve never heard a damn word about you.”
It took everything I had in me to remain in control. My body felt like a stripped electrical cord, and the more agitated I got, the more it seemed to amuse him. “Cristiano Vergara,” he said, sticking out his hand.
The infamous Cristiano.
I hated him.
I stared at his offered hand, ignoring it to turn toward Adriana. She’d been gone so long, I’d convinced myself she was being held against her will, enduring all kinds of horrific torture. So, the first thing I did was search her skin for signs of bruising. The tension in my body uncoiled as my hand grazed her flawless cheek. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, the anger on her face fading. The movement inadvertently caused my thumb to caress her skin. I didn’t want to admit what that small touch did to me. I only wanted to do it again. So, I did, this time brushing the pad of my thumb over her cheekbone.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
The moment shattered, and my eyes snapped toward Cristiano. I was really starting to not like that guy. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the cartel you’re with tried to kill her? It tends to make people jumpy.”
“It’s not my cartel,” he growled. “And I’d never hurt her.”
I let out a sardonic laugh, my hand falling from her face. “Right. All Adriana has ever been is a cartel play toy. Why should I believe that?”
Adriana charged toward me, holding up a finger. “Back the fuck up! I—”
Cristiano cut her off, pushing her away as he squared his shoulders and bowed up to me. “First of all, because you’re in my office and don’t have a choice. Secondly, not that it’s any of your business, but I was protecting her. Something you obviously can’t handle.
I pushed forward until we were nose to nose. “Step outside. I’ll show you what I can handle.”
Adriana let out a scream, turning both our heads for half a second, but it was all the time she needed. Forcing her way in between us, she pressed a hand against our chests and shoved us apart.
“Dios mío, are you two going to whip out your dicks and have a pissing match soon? I’m not a carnival prize, you know.”
“Stay out of this,” I warned, cracking my knuckles.
Cristiano bared his teeth in response. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t concern me?” She repeated each word with a hard punch to his chest. “I’m so deep in this you couldn’t dig me out with a shovel, motherfucker.”
Both of us backed off at the same time, staring at her like she’d sprouted horns and a tail. Apparently, a well-timed outburst from a deranged ex-communicated cartel queen got shit done.
Who knew?
Cristiano sucked a breath in through his teeth, not moving despite the fact she’d just used him as a punching bag. “I’ve given Marisol all the information I can.” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he gently removed her hand from his chest and took a guarded step toward me. “I’d lay down my life for her, and if this Ignacio asshole were here, I’d rip his throat out and shove it up his ass. No man puts his hands on Marisol and lives.”
“Adriana,” I mumbled, and when he furrowed his eyebrows, I scowled. “Her name is Adriana, and trust me, you’d have to get in line. Between me, Val, and Carlos, you’d have a long wait.”
He hitched an eyebrow. “Carlos?”
I waved my hand. “Freelance Colombian distributor. This Ignacio has made a habit out of intercepting my Chicago shipments. Carlos gets a little cagey when his product disappears.”
Before he could respond, the wall behind
us opened up, and a different man with arms the size of tree trunks appeared out of nowhere. Adriana and I exchanged glances as he whispered into Cristiano’s ear. Whatever he said wasn’t good because his eyes darkened, revealing the ruthless killer I suspected him to be.
He cleared his throat and tugged on an impeccably straight jacket. “I’m going to have to cut this meeting short. It seems there’s a problem that needs my attention. Drinks are on the house, of course. Please, enjoy yourselves.” Adriana stiffened as he approached her, and my fists shook from the force of holding them back when he touched her. “Mari…” He paused, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Forgive me. Old habits die hard. Adriana, don’t make me wait so long next time, or I might have to come find you instead.”
The hell he would.
Giving her one last squeeze, he turned toward me, but I wasn’t feeling as benevolent. I’d had enough, and the minute I stepped in front of him, my silent stare said more than any threat ever could.
Cristiano nodded. “Harcourt.”
“Vergara.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he leaned in making sure he was out of Adriana’s earshot. “I know who you are and what you did to her. Keep her safe.”
I smirked and tossed his threat back in his face. “Or what? You’ll come find me too?”
His lips pulled into a slow, sadistic smile. “I wouldn’t have to. I’ve always known where you were.” Brushing past my shoulder, he dropped his final bomb before turning around. “I would’ve never let her stay in that piece of shit barn house in Morelia.”
Fuck.
My mind spun in fifty different directions. I didn’t give a shit what Val had to say. I just added a second name to our intel mission. Every man had a story, and every story had a villain. Cristiano’s role in Adriana’s seemed to be a mystery, but one thing was for sure—I planned to find out.
He made his way over to Adriana and crooked a finger under her chin. “Hasta la próxima, mi amor.” Until next time, my love.
Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 18