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“I can’t. I need to go back, or he’ll know what I did. He’ll change his plans and then you won’t have any warning. Right now, you have a chance to stop him. If he realizes I’ve been talking to you…”

“You can’t take that risk. It isn’t safe, Isabella.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Juan’s got eyes like hawks and ears like wolves. If I don’t go back, he’ll know something’s up. I’m going back, so please just stop trying to talk me into staying with you. It’s not going to happen.”

“Fine.” I can tell she’s not going to change her mind, and she does make a good point. If she keeps to her usual routine, then Juan won’t suspect that he’s lost her loyalty. That could work in our favor, but I still don’t like it.

“I need to go.” She turns to leave, but I grab her upper arm.

“Wait!” I turn her so we’re face to face. “Tell me one thing before you go.”

“One thing.” A ghost of a smile passes across her lips before it fades into the shadows.

“Why are you dancing at Velvet?”

“It’s my ticket out of hell. Every dollar gets me one step closer to freedom.”

“You want to escape.”

“Si.” Her lips quirk slightly, but there’s no humor in it. “I want the chains tying me to Los Serpientes de Cristal, to Juan, to all of it, broken, once and for all.”

It hits me. The pain she must be enduring. She’s nothing like her brother. There’s no evil in her soul. She just wants to be emancipated from her family and their numerous crimes. I get it now. For the first time since we met, I finally understand what’s driving her.

“Let me help you get away from them. If all you need is money—”

She shakes her head, a mess of dark curls swaying with the motion. “I have to do this on my own, Ice.” Her words are firm, yet there’s a tremor beneath them that tells me she’s not as sure as she claims. “I don’t want to owe anyone. When I leave, I’m never looking back, and I don’t want regrets trailing me.”

“Regrets?” I mutter, narrowing my eyes. “Do you regret earlier?”

“You mean…” A flush darkens her caramel cheeks. “No. I could never regret something so…”

“So?” I ask, trying to coax a response. I’m dying to know what she thought about the passionate sex we shared in the VIP room.

“I can’t come back,” she says, attempting to change the subject. I let it go, deciding instead to see where she’s going to take this.

“Why not?”

“I’ve been working at one of the warehouses. The packaging plant.”

“Where they cut the drugs?” I ask, perking back up. This is the first time we’ve talked to anyone about what happens in their warehouses. We don’t even know all of their locations.

“Yes. They have women working there. Basically like slaves because they owe.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re illegal. The cartel got them into the country, but now the women have to pay the cartel back. Ten grand each.”

I whistle at the sum.

“It’s not fair. They can’t even see their children.”

“What children?” I demand.

“The women came with their kids, but they haven’t seen them in months. Some haven’t in years.”

“What the hell?”

“That’s what I said. I tried asking Juan about it, but he told me not to worry about it. Worrying is all I do anymore.”