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“I’m en route,” I said, my resolve solidifying with every syllable. “I’ll be there in ten.”

I instantly morphed back into Special Agent Natalia Ramírez as I turned to the driver with the address. The sting of Jason’s betrayal faded into the background as the adrenaline of the mission surged through my veins.

TWO

DANTE

My eyes were fixed on the ocean, its deep blue expanse stretching toward the horizon, but my mind was elsewhere. I stood on the balcony of my penthouse apartment, the warm Miami sun on my skin, but a sense of unease lingered in my thoughts. The tranquil view before me usually brought a sense of calm, yet today, it did little to soothe the restlessness within me.

The buzz of my phone startled me from my reverie. Glancing at the screen, I saw Marco’s name flashing. An instinctive wariness washed over me, knowing that Marco’s calls were rarely social.

“Dante, where are you?” Marco’s voice held a sharp edge, cutting through the quiet of my home. “Get down to the warehouse. Your father’s requested your presence for the drop tonight.”

I frowned, a surge of confusion coursing through me. “The drop? Why the hell would he want me there? You know I haven’t been involved in the drug operation for over a year. This is Tony’s territory now.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and I imagined Marco weighing his words carefully. “Look, I don’t know, okay? Your father just said he wanted you there. Said it was important. And he’s... expecting you.”

Disdain laced through me at the mention of my father, Ricardo Reyes. Our relationship was strained at best, and his demands rarely boded well for anyone involved. I ran a hand through my hair. “Fine, I’ll be there. But this better be good, Marco. I have a club to run.”

Hanging up, I reluctantly left the serenity of my balcony and made my way to the warehouse, an old building nestled in an industrial part of the city. As I drove, questions swirled in my mind. Why was my father summoning me, and what did he want with me at a drug drop? It had been well-established that I wanted no part in the cartel’s drug activities anymore, preferring to focus on my night club in South Beach.

Upon my arrival, I spotted Marco standing by the loading bay doors, his posture taut with anticipation. He exuded an air of unease, which did little to ease my own reservations about this unexpected gathering.

“Took you long enough,” Marco muttered as I approached, his gaze darting around the deserted parking lot.

“Couldn’t be helped,” I replied, my eyes scanning the area for any signs of trouble. “Why the sudden interest in having me present at a drop? You know I’m not usually invited to these family reunions.”

Marco shrugged, his jaw set in a tight line. “Your father’s orders, not mine. He wanted all hands on deck. Must be a big shipment.”

I snorted. “Or a big show of force. He loves his theatrics.”

Marco didn’t argue with that. We both knew Ricardo Reyes relished demonstrating his power and control over the cartel, and this was likely just another way for him to exert his dominance.

As we moved inside, I got the feeling that something was amiss. My senses were on high alert, attuned to even the slightest hint of danger. The warehouse was quiet, too quiet, and I felt a tingle at the base of my spine, a warning that something was about to go down.

Marco must have sensed it too because he whispered, “This doesn’t feel right. We should be prepared for anything.”

“Always am,” I said, my hand instinctively going to the gun holstered at my waist—a constant companion in my line of work.

As we made our way further into the warehouse, I spotted Tony Gutierrez, one of my father’s loyal soldiers, standing near the loading bay. His presence only added to my unease, and I found myself walking over to him, unable to quell my curiosity any longer.

“Tony,” I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the vast space. “Why am I here? You know I haven’t been involved in this part of the business since I took over Club Diablo.”

Tony turned, a smirk playing on his lips. He ran a hand through his greasy black hair and took a deliberate drag on his cigar, blowing the smoke casually in my direction. “Ah, Dante. It seems your father wanted to make sure you haven’t become a soft, pampered prince, running a strip club and drinking fancy cocktails all day.”

His words stung, and my jaw clenched. I took a step forward, my hands balling into fists, but before I could unleash my anger, voices drifted from the main entrance, halting me in my tracks.

Marco’s hand snapped out, grabbing my arm and pulling me back just as a flurry of movement caught my eye. Tony reached for his weapon, his smirk transforming into a snarl. Instinctively, I drew my own gun, my body tensing as I prepared for the unknown.

Marco wasted no time, pulling me behind a towering stack of wooden crates marked with the cartel’s insignia. Peering around the edge, I saw a team of people in tactical gear, guns drawn, slowly making their way into the warehouse. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized what was unfolding—a raid.

The cartel members, including Tony, quickly engaged, gunfire erupting across the warehouse. Marco and I remained hidden, surveying the situation. We were outnumbered, and with Tony and the others occupied, we knew we had to act quickly.

I turned to Marco, my eyes fierce. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

He nodded, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene before us. “Let’s split up. We’ll have a better chance not getting caught. I’ll meet you outside.”

As I watched Marco disappear into the darkness, I realized just how much I hated my life. Being Ricardo Reyes’ son meant I was born into the cartel, a life I could never escape even if I wanted to.