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Rodrigo’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why would I do that?”

This is where I win—or I die.

“You’ve never met the man who owns this place.” It isn’t a question, since I already know the answer.

He shakes his head.

“So I am offering you the same thing I gave your father. Something many people would kill to know. This man’s face and a name. The tools you need to kill him and avenge your father.”

Rodrigo looks unconvinced. “Unless he kills me first, like he did my father.”

“You’re too smart to let that happen.” I mentally cross my fingers. “Your father cut the triads off. He showed his hand. But right now, this man thinks you’re on his side. And he wants your product. That means you hold all the cards.”

I can almost smell his greed. Ambition is starting to win over suspicion in Rodrigo’s internal war. He’s hanging on every word I say.

“You can make the man an offer too good to refuse, then insist you will only deal with him in person,” I say. “He will agree. And when he does, you can kill him.”

It’s time to sell it, Abby.

“Can you imagine,” I say softly, “the power you would hold, when people know you have killed one of the most feared men in the world?”

The silence that follows my words is electric with his barely suppressed excitement.

There are a lot of holes in my plan. Holes that would give a more cautious man pause. But I’ve just offered Rodrigo the only thing he’s ever truly wanted: a reputation.

I’m gambling it will be enough.

Finally he gives me a calculating look.

“I want to check your story first. If it stacks up, I’ll come back.” His glare does nothing to quell my sudden, savage rush of triumph. I keep my eyes carefully averted so he can’t see it. “And you’d better not breathe a fucking word of this,puta.”

Like I have anything to gain by talking.But I don’t say that. I just nod. “Of course.”

Rodrigo stands up.

“There is one other thing,” I say reluctantly.

He gives me an impatient look which says he’s already imagining himself at the head of an empire, with minions kissing the proverbial ring.

Unfortunately, if either of us are ever going to get what we want, we’re going to need to sell our cover story convincingly.

“They’re expecting us to be enemies,” I say.

Rodrigo frowns. “So you said.”

“That means I need to look like your enemy.”

He must really be distracted, because he still looks confused.

Christ.Of all the things I imagined when I saw Rodrigo sitting in this private room, convincing him to hurt me wasn’t one of them.

I take a cigar from the case on the bar and clip the end off. “You’re going to need to knock me around, Rodrigo.”

His eyes widen. Then the familiar sick smile begins to curl his lips.

Yes, there you are, you bastard.I brace myself as he advances on me.Even now, the idea of hurting me turns you on, doesn’t it, you sick fuck?

I light the cigar and hand it to him, swallowing hard on my fear.