Page 7

Pushing open the heavy metal door, I step inside with deliberate calm. Diego snaps his head up sharply, eyes bloodshot, his arm wrapped tightly from Matteo’s well-placed bullet yesterday. His jaw tightens immediately.

I smoothly pull out the chair opposite him and settle gracefully into it. Jensen takes up a position slightly behind me, towering in silence, massive arms crossed over his chest. His shadow alone seems to swallow the room whole, and Diego visibly shrinks under his icy stare.

“Good morning, Diego,” I greet calmly, placing my notes in front of me. My tone is pleasant, bordering on friendly. “I trust your accommodations were comfortable?”

Diego spits something colorful in Spanish, glaring daggers. “Fuck you.”

Behind me, Jensen’s deep chuckle vibrates dangerously. “Wrong answer.”

“Remember Jensen?” I ask sweetly, leaning forward slightly. “Six-foot-five, zero patience, capable of snapping you like a toothpick? Might want to reconsider your attitude.”

Diego swallows hard, eyes darting nervously between Jensen’s unforgiving scowl and my calm gaze.

“Now,” I continue, leaning forward slightly, “Let’s try again, Diego. Tell me what you know about Javier Reyes. I want names, locations, meeting points—every single thing.”

His mouth tightens stubbornly, though the fear flickering in his eyes betrays his façade of defiance. “If I talk, Reyes will kill me.”

I lean back slightly, letting out a soft sigh as I shrug. “Sure, that’s a possibility. But Jensen here?” I glance briefly over my shoulder. “He’s a certainty. You really want to gamble with certainties, Diego?”

Jensen takes one slow step forward, his eyes narrowing. He looms silently, every inch of him dangerous, but even Jensen’s quiet menace doesn’t seem to hold a candle to the invisible threat of Reyes in Diego’s mind.

“You think you scare me more than Reyes?” Diego scoffs weakly, defiance lingering stubbornly in his voice despite the faint tremor betraying his fear. “You have no fucking clue.”

Jensen’s muscles tense visibly, danger rolling off him in waves. Diego flinches slightly, but Reyes clearly terrifies him more. The realization settles unpleasantly—Reyes is even worse than we thought. He must truly be a monster. Even locked safely away with Jensen’s imposing bulk hovering over him, Diego clings to silence as if it’s his only lifeline.

“Think carefully, Diego,” I say softly, drumming my fingers on the cold metal tabletop. My voice lowers, velvet-edged and deceptively gentle. “Reyes isn’t here. We are. You should be more worried about what we can do.”

Diego’s jaw tightens again, eyes flicking nervously between me and Jensen. I see him mentally weighing threats and fears against each other. “If I give you Reyes, I'm a dead man. Worse than dead.”

I sigh softly, leaning back and exchanging a meaningful glance with Jensen. He shifts his weight subtly, arms still crossed, a silent wall of intimidation behind me.

“You don’t want to talk about Reyes himself, fine,” I concede lightly, offering Diego an out. “Give me something else. Names. I want to know who else we can reach out and touch. You’re mid-level, Diego—you’re disposable. But I bet you know a few names that are a step or two above you. People who might be useful.”

He hesitates, still trying to balance the consequences. “You promise protection?”

“No promises,” Jensen answers coldly before I can respond, voice rumbling with dark authority. “But talk now, and we might consider it.”

I offer Diego a small smile, the kind that doesn’t reach my eyes. “It’s the best offer you’re going to get. Reyes won’t make you any offers at all.”

Diego’s shoulders slump slightly, resignation slipping through the cracks in his stubborn façade. “Fine. But I don’t know how much it’ll help you.”

My smile sharpens. “Start talking.”

Chapter 4

Seanna

WegrillDiegoforhours.

Bit by painstaking bit, we squeeze out names, locations, and fragments of Reyes' meticulously crafted empire. Diego coughs up Sebastián Cruz, the person he would have called had he chosen currently and went for his phone, the next line up the food chain from him. He also gives us Valeria Mendoza and Rafael Navarro—each name dropping like coins into our growing collection. He even throws in a handful of disposable foot soldiers who handle daily tasks outside Reyes’ direct orbit. Every scrap of intel nudges us a step closer to the elusive Javier Reyes himself.

Eventually, Diego clamps down, silence settling stubbornly as exhaustion and fear outweigh our relentless prodding. My sharp questions and Jensen’s cold, calculated threats eventually hit a wall. Diego’s eyes glaze over, focusing on nothing, clearly more afraid of Reyes' ghost than Jensen’s very real presence. For now, Reyes wins this round.

With Diego left to marinate in his own fears, we head upstairs to regroup. I drop into my chair with a tired sigh, massaging my temples. Matteo is already buried in data, fingers flying across the keyboard, dissecting every crumb Diego spilled. Eli collapses theatrically into his chair, kicking his feet up with exaggerated relief, while Jensen slumps wearily, rubbing his eyes.

“Got something useful,” Matteo announces without looking up. “Cruz’s nightclub—the Silver Orchid—is likely a front. Drugs, trafficking, probably money laundering too. Mendoza and Navarro will take more work, but it’s a start.”

I stretch my arms above my head, joints popping satisfyingly. “We didn’t sign up expecting this to be easy. Reyes isn’t hosting a damn open house.”