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He steps inside like he owns the place. Tailored slacks. Rolled-up sleeves. No gun, no mask—just his usual composed, smiling face.
At first, relief floods me that he’s here. Maybe he ignored me and came to the airport after all, and saw me get kidnapped. But the look in his eyes is too calm and calculated.
And I feel it.
Dread. It drips down my spine like cold water. If I’ve been kidnapped…And Cristóbal is here…
Then Cristóbal is behind it.
The realization sends a tremor through me so strong that my knees nearly give out. His smile widens, like he’s watching it hit me in real time.
“You disappeared well, mi rosa,” he says, voice smooth as silk. “But you should’ve known that I would be waiting.”
I step back from him, rage and fear fighting to take over. “Where’s my son?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He just watches me.
I clench my fists. “Where is he?!”
He lifts a hand in mock reassurance. “He’s safe… for now.”
My chest tightens. “If you hurt him—”
Cristóbal tilts his head, eyes gleaming with something almost amused. “Hurt him? No. Why would I hurt him?” He takes a step closer.
His smile tightens as he circles me slowly, like a predator sniffing fresh weakness.
“I didn’t know you’d had a son,mi rosa.”He turns, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “But now that I do… that changes everything. For the better of cause.”
I stiffen, blood turning cold. “Where is he?” I rasp.
Cristóbal steps closer, his voice dipped in false warmth.
“He’s unharmed for now. But let’s be very clear—what happens next? Depends entirely on you.”
He leans in, his voice like poison:
“You’re going to do everything I say, Xiomara…because whether your son leaves here alive depends on you.”
36
Chapter 28
Zasha
The door shuts with a soft thud behind us as Viktor tosses the Panama files onto the table. Lev stretches in his chair, looking bored. I stand at the whiteboard, dragging a marker across the timeline of near-compromises on the South American route.
"One of the contractors was swapped last-minute, and the new guy was later found dead," I say, my voice clipped. "That’s where the hole opened up. Someone on the inside made it happen—but they were sloppy."
Lev scoffs. “If they were smart, we’d be mourning a seized shipment right now.”
I don’t respond. My eyes stay locked on the board, scanning names and dates with the precision I’ve trained into myself—always looking for the flaw, the crack in the foundation, the blood hiding beneath clean floors.
Viktor nods slowly, arms folded. “So, we’re looking at a mole.”
I cap the marker. “Or a ghost. Someone who knows how to walk through walls.”
We fall silent, the kind that is heavy yet focused. The air feels tight around us. Just as Viktor reaches for the file again, his phone buzzes.