Page 20

Chapter Twenty

Ellie

Things you didn’t imagine happening tonight for five hundred.

If only this were as simple as a Jeopardy category—even a challenging one. But it’s not. I felt uneasy while leaving my house, but I’m petrified now. I’m used to working alone. I have Enrique’s life to consider, too. I just took a monumental risk. I opened him up to take fire, but I needed to get close enough to shoot them. I knew the buckshot would spray pellets at them, so I had a greater chance of hitting them if they ran toward us.

“ Tío ! What’s happening?!” There’s fear in Pablo’s voice that I’m certain none of them are used to.

“Ellie got rid of that threat.”

“Not all of it. Enrique, there’s another car behind us. It looks like Matías. What do you want me to do?”

“Papa?”

Fuck. Poor Alejandro. The last thing I want to do is kill the young man’s father. But if it’s between Enrique and Matías, then Matías’s gotta go.

“Nothing yet, chiquita . If he gets too close, disable the car.” It’s unlike him to let something slip, but I don’t think he realizes what he called me before the word left his mouth.

“ Sí, papí. ” I speak barely above a whisper, so I don’t think it carried to the call.

“What are you talking about? What’s Papa doing?”

Alejandro’s understandably upset, and I feel horrible for him. I sense Enrique’s hesitation as he speeds up, putting more distance between Matías and us. But the man doesn’t relent. His car races after us, and that’s made easier once we’re back on the street with no ruts to contend with.

“Your father lied about who was in the car at Ellie’s and chased us, trying to box us in between him and men we don’t recognize.”

I know Enrique hates explaining this to Alejandro.

“ Tío , you have to be mistaken. There has to be a reason. Maybe he’s trying to help you.”

“Alejandro, my phone works just fine because I’m on it right now. If he was trying to help me, why hasn’t he called?”

“Why haven’t you called him? Mierda. I’m sorry.” Shit.

The moment the words leave Enrique’s nephew’s mouth, he regrets them and wishes he could swallow them back. But I can’t blame him. I’d have the same reaction if I were in the young man’s position. Enrique lets it go. I know, had it been anybody outside his immediate family, there’d be consequences for that slip.

“Right now, Alejandro, I’m a little busy trying to keep Ellie and me alive. Considering multiple people have shot at us from multiple directions and nearly run us off the road, I haven’t had a chance to make too many phone calls.”

“Where’s Papa now?”

“He’s still following me.”

I went back to crouching after I shot the men in the last two cars. I lift my head just enough to peer out the back window. Matías is there, but not as close as he was.

I wonder if that’s because Matías realizes there’s no one else to help him. Or is it because he knows he has people to help, so he doesn’t need to stay that close? My mind wars with those two options, knowing either is possible. I disassemble the shotgun and the rifle as Enrique speaks to his family. I put them back in the duffel bag, pulling out my handgun with a loaded magazine and a spare.

I climb back into the front seat as Enrique explains we were headed to Luis and Margherita’s, but he’s decided we’re going to his house after all.

“I’m taking a roundabout way again, so it’ll take me a little while. Give me twenty minutes to get there. I’m activating my tracker now. If I’m not there in twenty minutes, you need to find us.”

It tempts me to activate mine.

My boys are the ones who’d get the alert. It’s in a bracelet they gave me. Not exactly as a divorce present, but as the result of the divorce, because the tracker I wore for nearly three decades linked to Tommaso’s system, and I definitely don’t want him monitoring my whereabouts. Plus, it wouldn’t have done me any good living in New Jersey when all his men are in Boston.

Even though two of my boys are in Boston and one is in Connecticut, if something happens to me, they should know. It surprises me I didn’t already think to press the alert. It wasn’t that I was too distracted. I’ve been in more chaotic scenarios than this. It was my implicit trust in Enrique to get us out of this that kept me from thinking about hitting my tracker.

I settle into the front seat, putting my seatbelt on. It’s always nerve-wracking being in any type of vehicle chase without a seatbelt on, but there are plenty of times where that’s not an option, like tonight. I keep my eyes peeled for anything that appears unusual.

“I’ll call you back, Pablo, if anything changes. Remember, twenty minutes.”

“All right, tío , twenty minutes.”

Enrique ends the call, and while we have a moment’s reprieve from whatever the fuck is going on, he sticks out his right hand, and I eagerly lace the fingers of my left hand with his.

It’s a moment of reassurance for both of us. Part of me wants to ask what he would do if he were in this situation with another woman. Would his ex-wife have been able to handle it? Would she have been anything like me? I know he didn’t love her and was glad to be rid of her once they divorced because of her infidelity and betrayal, but I’ve wondered a few times if I’m anything like her.

I have olive skin and dark hair. Could I look anything like her?

“ Chiquita , I’m sorry we’re going through this, but I’m so damn glad you’re so capable. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you with me right now. I’d probably be dead.”

“Don’t say that. Never, ever say that. You and I both know the possibilities without you saying them aloud.”

“All right, chiquita , I’m sorry, but I’m still so damn proud of you. I know how fortunate I am that you have the skills you do. This would be a very different situation if you didn’t.”

“I’m certain there are other women out there like me you could’ve fallen for.”

“ Chiquita , there’s no one out there like you. That’s why I haven’t found another woman who makes me feel the way you do. And if you’re wondering, no, Daniela never could’ve done any of this. She would’ve been more liability than benefit. You two are nothing alike, and that makes me even more grateful for you. You know how much I worry about you, and I’ll never stop—especially since this situation reminds us of the danger I bring to you—but I’m so damn lucky you’re with me. I don’t know that I’d survive this with someone else.”

“Daddy, we don’t know that this is about you at all. It could be entirely about me, so until we find out otherwise, don’t blame yourself for anything unless you want me blaming myself, too.

“Definitely not, carino .”

“Then don’t take this on yourself. We’ll figure this out together.”

We fall silent for a moment as we both flicker our gazes to the mirrors. I use the side-view mirror on my door, and Enrique keeps checking the rearview one. We’re the only people on this side street, but I recognize where we are, and we’ll soon be on the highway. This is definitely a roundabout way to get to his house, but so far I don’t see Matías’s car, and no other vehicle is too close. I won’t let my guard down, though.

We both remain vigilant. I watch the exit ramps and entry ramps as we go past each one, waiting with knots in my stomach and a lump in my throat that this might be the one. That’s where somebody catches up to us.

When Enrique pulls off the highway, my gun rests in my lap. I put my free hand on the door, my finger resting over the window button. We think of the same thing at the same time because we let go of each other, and Enrique picks up his handgun while I do the same.

We’re both prepared to shoot. I’m left-handed, but I can do most things ambidextrous because it’s a challenge to be left-handed in a right-handed world. I can shoot with either, so I’m not worried I won’t manage from this side if I need to. Once I get the window down, I can switch hands. I wonder whether Enrique can shoot easily with his left one.

“ Carino , I see how comfortably you’re holding that gun. I learned to shoot with both hands as well. My father insisted. All of my nephews and my brother know how, too.”

I nod. I want to learn more about his childhood, but it saddens me when these brief insights are about how he learned to survive this brutal life. I’m grateful for how normal a childhood my kids had. I’m certain I didn’t have the same worries his parents did, and I didn’t have to teach my children the same lessons his parents did.

“Don’t worry, little one. One of these days, I’ll tell you cheerful stories from when I grew up.”

I glance over at him, and even though he’s still looking straight ahead, he smiles.

“I’ve already figured out how much we think alike.”

“It is rather uncanny, isn’t it, Daddy?”

“It is uncanny, and that’s how I know you’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

This isn’t the right time to make any professions of love and devotion, but I’m certainly tempted. I think my feelings are already there. I’ve already considered it many times, but I don’t want to rush into saying something I can’t take back.

When he puts his hand on my thigh, squeezes it, then strokes his thumb along the outside, I think he’s thinking the same thing. Neither of us wants to make what could be a deathbed confession when we might survive. This is hardly the most romantic setting, but I also don’t want to miss the opportunity in case we don’t make it. It could all be over in a blink. I might not have time for a last-minute profession. I’m torn, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

I keep checking my mirror as we approach Enrique’s neighborhood. He flashes the headlights four times as we approach a mansion that’s enormous for one person. Men pour out of the front door. Enrique’s nephews have their guns drawn as the gates slide open. The men patrolling his property have their rifles at the ready, scattered around the circular drive and front yard.

We pull around, so I’m closer to the front door. Alejandro rushes forward to open my door. I have a moment of trepidation he’ll drag me out, blaming me for this. I get out, and immediately, the men surround me. But they’re shielding me. They’re protecting me.

Alejandro’s left hand wraps lightly around my upper right arm. He draws me backward as the men move with us, none turning away from the gate. Enrique rushes around to me just as another car swings into the driveway as the gates change direction.

“Papa!” Alejandro’s grip loosens for a moment before he realizes what he’s doing.

I glance up at the man who looks most like Enrique. I see the anguish because he wants to run to his father, but he remembers his duty is to protect his jefe and by extension, now me too.

Men swarm forward, and Tres J’s bolt to the car. They have guns aimed at Matías, who drops out of view as he leans to his right. No one shoots, but I’m not surprised he tries to stay out of sight. Jorge pulls on the door handle, but nothing happens.

My brow furrows. Something’s going on in the car. There’s someone in the back seat I didn’t notice before. The windows were too tinted, and it was too dark. But I can tell there’s a scuffle. Then there’s the sound of a key fob unlocking the vehicle. I look over at Alejandro and realize he has keys to his dad’s car.

Armed guards yank open three doors, and Jorge opens the driver’s door. Guards pull two men from the back seat. Jorge helps Matías from the car as his brothers rush back to help surround me.

“Papa!”

Alejandro shifts his focus to Enrique, who nods. He lets go of my arm and bolts to his father. Matías has blood dripping from his temple from someone pistol whipping him. He can barely stand, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s seeing stars.

“They have Catalina!”

The sentence hangs in the air before all hell breaks loose.

“Pablo, Dos J’s , get Ellie in the house. Now. Stay with her. Javier, pull up your mama’s location. Make sure she’s safe. Pablo, call your dad.”

“ Sí, tío .”

Three voices respond, but I don’t budge.

“Enrique, I know that man.” I point to the one on the far side of the car who was in Matías’s back seat.

“Is he one of Tommaso’s?”

I shake my head. “He’s a mercenary, too. I’ve been on jobs at the same place as him. He never knew who I was. If they have Catalina…”

I trail off, not wanting to say what I know is a strong possibility. My gaze meets Enrique’s, and I need to say nothing more for him to understand.

“Let me speak to him.”

“No, Ellie, this is out of your hands now.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, but?—”

“Then you don’t know the easiest way to get information from him.”

“Just tell me, and I’ll do whatever it is.”

I shake my head again. I still don’t want to argue with him in public, but I will if I must. I step around Pablo, my gun aimed at the car, ready to pick off any of the men. I’ll shoot any of those men, including Matías, if they look the wrong way at any of us.

“ Ta fille doit avoir six ou sept ans maintenant .” Your daughter must be six- or seven-years-old by now.

I approach the vehicle and flick my fingers in a come here motion to the two guards surrounding my target. They hesitate and look toward Enrique, who must give them permission because each man grabs an arm and hauls the guy toward me. When he’s in front of me, I point to the ground, and the guards press him to his knees. I continue in French.

“How’s Marie-Claude, Gérard? Has she started school yet?”

The man’s expression is inscrutable.

“I know you got her a puppy three months ago. It would be such a shame if she found it with its throat slit.”

The man still looks straight ahead, but I see him clench his jaw. I’m out of the business, but I keep tabs on the people most likely to kill me if they find me.

“What will your wife do without you there when men break in and take your daughter? She won’t know what to do since she has no clue who you are. You haven’t prepared her for that because you believe no one knows about your real life, but Jacqueline won’t be able to protect Marie-Claude or your little boy. Pierre looks so much like you these days, which is surprising since he’s not your son.”

Gérard Sainte-Croix’s gaze flicks up to me. I shrug dismissively.

“He’s not. He’s Henri Bouvier’s. Your wife has a type. She likes blondes. I know you’ve always suspected it, but it’s true. It happened while you were on the Munich job. I’m certain you’re wondering how I know. It’s because I introduced them. You screwed Don Vizzini over on a job, and Henri owed me a favor. There’s no way Pierre’s yours since you were in Munich for three and a half weeks. The dates don’t line up with when she had him.”

I watch him as I mind fuck him.

“You’ve always suspected he’s somebody else’s. I have plenty more secrets I can share. How much more pain would you like me to inflict before I get mean?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You were arm candy for men doing business you know nothing about.”

“But I do. Your wife has a birthmark on her left ass cheek. From nursing two kids, her right breast is slightly bigger than her left.”

That registers shock on his face, and his body practically vibrates with rage. I step forward since the guards still hold his arms back. I put my handgun to his forehead and turn off the safety.

My bodyguards were often decoys when I wasn’t fulfilling my role as an accountant. People suspected they might be mercenaries when they negotiated on Tommaso’s behalf. But no one guessed I was the hired gun working behind the scenes. They didn’t know I gave the men cues during the meetings where I was seen but not heard.

I’ve created and kept dossiers on many mercenaries and syndicate men over the years, including information about the people most important to them. It’s a type of rainy-day fund. You never know what you might need to make it rain for someone else. It’s awfully cloudy today.

I peer down at Gérard and grin as I keep antagonizing him in French.

“Is your daughter’s favorite color still yellow? The last I heard, your wife was painting her bedroom to look like it was full of sunshine.”

“Stay the hell away from my wife and children.”

“Then stay the hell away from my family.”

I push the muzzle of the handgun harder against his forehead, not thinking twice about calling Enrique’s family mine. It comes naturally to think of them that way.

“If you are who you claim, you aren’t family to anybody. You abandoned yours.”

“Would you like my sons to prove how protective they are of their mother? I’m sure Enrique has somewhere we can put you until they can get here. In the meantime, I’m certain his nephews have questions for you, too. Where’s Catalina?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I look up from Gérard’s glowering face to the guard on his right.

“Hold up his hand.”

When the guard does, I grab Gérard’s middle finger and push backwards while twisting until I feel the pop. I move on to his ring finger, then his thumb. I leave his index finger and pinky how they are.

“You have a choice. You can either answer my question, and all I do is break your last two fingers. Or you can be stubborn, and I’ll blow your fucking hand off.”

“You aren’t doing shit like that with a pistol.”

“I wasn’t the driver tonight. After what you saw, do you believe all I have is this handgun? Enrique, can you grab my shotgun and my rifle, please?”

I stick with French since I know Enrique understands. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn his nephews do, too. I sense Enrique’s movement behind me. He hesitates, but then I hear the trunk open. I’m watching Gérard as his gaze darts toward the vehicle, then back up to me.

“You know my reputation—even if you didn’t know it was me—and you know how I enjoy hunting. Maybe I should make you run. Can you hide behind a tree faster than I can shoot you? You know what happens to the body when it’s hit with buckshot at close range. Is that how you’d like me to begin your torture? Because your fingers were just a hello.”

The guy shakes his head, knowing everything I threaten is an understatement. I’ve hunted for nearly thirty years, and I’ve yet to miss my target when I make someone my prey.

“So, I’ll ask you one more time before I get really convincing. Where is Catalina?”

I grab his pinky and pull it backwards until it nearly touches his wrist.

“She’s at a warehouse in Hoboken.”

He blurts his answer in English. She’s still here in Jersey and not too far away. But I don’t know which syndicate has properties there.

“Did you take her there?”

He shakes his head and then tilts it toward the other man who’s still standing outside the vehicle. These two fuckers were in the back seat to coerce Matías. I can’t blame the man for choosing his wife over Enrique and me. I understand he’s supposed to put his jefe before everyone else. But I will never fault a person for putting their children ahead of absolutely everything. And I won’t fault them for putting their spouse ahead of most things.

Enrique hands me the rifle, and I click the safety back on my handgun. My capris’ waistband is snug enough to tuck the handgun against the small of my back. I check the chamber before I aim the rifle at the man who’s said nothing yet. I put a bullet through each foot. I recognize the man from photos, but I’ve never met him before. I use the little German I have with the guy.

“ Ich wei?, wer Sie sind, auch wenn wir uns noch nie gesehen haben. Wie lautet die Adresse ?” I know who you are, even if we haven’t seen each other before. What’s the address?

The man glares at me and shakes his head while Enrique’s guards have to hold him up. I gesture with the rifle to let him sit. When he does, he brings his shins up in front of him. I put a bullet through his left one.

“I can keep going. Can you?”

The man’s clearly in agony, despite how he tries not to show it. Blood gushes from his feet and his shin. I comb through my memory for what I know about him. I remember he speaks English, too.

“You have a son at NYU. He lives in an apartment not too far off campus. Does he know you’re here in the States, Johann? Is it time for you to have a brief visit? We can bring him here for you.”

That gets his attention.

“Stay the fuck away from my son.” His English is perfect.

“Then tell me what I want to know. Where is Catalina? What warehouse in Hoboken is she in?”

“Fuck off.”

“The faster you give me my answer, the faster I can do just that. I hadn’t planned to spend my evening with anybody other than my boyfriend.”

I smirk and waggle my eyebrows. This isn’t any less of a pissing contest just because I squat, and they stand. I turn my head as though I’m looking toward Enrique, but I don’t take my eyes off the guy in front of me.

“Jealous of my plans?” I cock an eyebrow, and the guy jerks back. “Oh, you didn’t think I knew about that? You think that’s your best kept secret? Hardly. I’ve known about Gaston for years. I may not have met you before, but you’re not a stranger. What would your wife say? What would your other boyfriend, Freddy, say about that?”

“You wouldn’t dare. That would put a target on you for life.”

“You don’t think there’s already at least one on me? You were here for all of this tonight. You have far more to lose than I do, Johann. You’re here alone with no one to protect you. I’m the one with the guns and men. So, I’m asking you for the last time. Where is Catalina?”

I walk over to him and kick the shin where blood pours from the gunshot wound. He howls and sucks in a breath. He rambles off an address, and I hear Alejandro barking orders at someone. I don’t turn to see who Alejandro’s speaking to. He might have even called someone. I look over at Gérard instead.

“Is there anything else I should know about Catalina’s location?”

Gérard shakes his head.

They’re giving in far faster than I imagined. It’s a combination of my reputation, Enrique’s family’s, and the guards. They know their death is inevitable, so they’d prefer to make it painless.

I look between my two prisoners, shifting my rifle between them.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.”

I point toward Gérard.

“Who sent you?”

“I don’t know. It was anonymous for me. My instructions said to meet Johann, and we’d do the job together. At first, we didn’t know why someone wanted us to watch you then kill you. Diaz came around, and we figured he was the reason. We never knew who you really are.”

“How much were you paid?”

“Five-hundred-thousand up front, a million when the job is done.”

I look over at the German. “What about you?”

“Same deal.”

“Is that the price just for me? Or is that price for Enrique? Or is it for both of us?”

“That price is for you. If we take out the jefe de jefes , we each get a seven-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar bonus.”

I chuckle.

“I’ve always been expensive, but I had no idea I’d cost more than one of the wealthiest men in the world.”

Enrique steps beside me and kisses my temple. “ Carino , you are priceless.”

With Enrique standing beside me, his handgun pointed toward Gérard, I train my rifle on Johann.

“Who arranged this?”

He hesitates a moment too long, so I put another bullet through his other shin. If I do too much more, he’ll pass out sooner and will be of no use to me. Eventually, he’ll slide into unconsciousness from the pain and blood loss, so I need information now. I’ll take my chances on him passing out in hopes this incentivizes him to spit out the info. Not that he’ll survive this, but if he did, he’d never walk again. I’ve shattered both legs.

“I don’t know for sure, but the IP address was from Russia, but that means nothing.”

I gesture to a guard. “Can you get his cell phone, please?”

The guy reaches into Johann’s pocket and pulls it out. He uses the retinal scan to unlock it.

“Pull up the message.”

It requires he have one hand free, so I nod to the guard. Johann taps on his phone screen, then we watch him scroll until he reaches out with his phone. The guard clamps his hand on Johann’s shoulder as I take it from him. He can only keep his arm at the height it’s at now. The guard’s merciless grip forces his hand down once I take the device. I step back and Enrique takes my spot, his gun now to Johann’s forehead.

With my gun pointing toward the ground, I read a post on the dark web with a specific request for my elimination. It describes me as a Mafioso’s former wife, not as a Mafia accountant or mercenary. I see Enrique mentioned nowhere. I scan the date and realize this posted shortly after I finalized my divorce. That gives me a moment’s pause.

I hadn’t considered Tim at all.

I don’t know what to make of this.

I never thought he would do something like put a hit out on me. Now I can’t help but question all the years we were together. If he hates me enough to kill his own children’s mother…

My mind rebels at that notion. While it wouldn’t be impossible, it still isn’t a theory that resonates with me. I continue to scroll, then tap the back button to see what else I can find in Johann’s messages.

There’s a more recent one where he explains to the anonymous client that I’m with Enrique. The response includes the bonus for eliminating him. These messages are dated two weeks after we started walking together.

I continue to search the man’s phone, finding additional messages with updates for the client. However, nothing gives me any hints about who hired these men.

Alejandro steps beside Enrique, leaving his father leaning against the car. “ Tío , everything’s set.”

I know that means they’re ready to find Catalina. I look at the guards holding each man.

“Cut off their index fingers and thumbs, so I can get into their phones again once they lock. Take out an eyeball if needed.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Gérard, if you’ve told us all you’re willing to say, then I don’t need you anymore. I’ll get more information out of your phones. All I need you for is ways to unlock it.”

I nod to the guards, and they pull the men away. More guards step forward to help restrain the men.

“Wait, wait, wait .” Johann fights against the men, who try to pull him onto his back.

“If you have something worth saying, you better say it quickly.”

“Wait. I know more.”

“Get on with it, then.”

“There was more than one job post about you.”

“Intriguing, but not surprising. Are they recent ones?”

“Yes. There’re always posts to eliminate any of us, but recently there’ve been several placed for you. Even before this one. It’s just no one knew the mercenary we were after was a woman. I didn’t connect them to you until now. You saw the original one. It described your appearance and age, and that you were once married to a Mafioso. It said nothing about who you worked for or what you did. Once we took the job, the message told us where to find you. It never said why. We figured someone thought you knew too much.”

“Was this the highest offer?”

“No.” Gérard pipes in but shrinks back when I turn a withering stare at him for interrupting. He had his chance. I return my attention to Johann.

“If this wasn’t the best offer, then why take it if you could’ve earned more with somebody else as your client?”

“Because I don’t know who this is, and it described an ex-wife not a gun for hire. I know who some of the other clients are who wanted the unnamed mercenary, and neither of us wants anything to do with them. Neither of us wanted to go after a fellow hitman with your record.”

“Do you have the listings on here?”

“Yeah. Keep scrolling until you get to a folder icon. Tap that.”

I do as he says, and I see four posts. I open the first one and skim. I look at Enrique and quirk a brow.

“You might want to take this one down.”

“What?”

He holds out his hand for the phone and scans the post that describes but doesn’t name me. The one overwhelming inaccuracy is it assumes I’m a man. Anybody working as a top echelon international mercenary would know who the mark was, but the job would’ve entailed searching for me. Until I confessed to Enrique, the only people who’d know it was me were Tommaso, Frank, their consigliere —Santino—and me.

Enrique taps on the screen again and turns his hand, so I can read the new post he pulled up. This one’s from the Mancinellis. I skim that one too before Enrique moves on to a third one, which I’m certain came from the Kutsenkos, and the final one’s from the O’Rourkes.

None of their names are on there. There’s no mention of what type of syndicate, but when you’ve been in this business as long as all of us, little effort’s needed to guess which family. They included nothing clearly identifiable, but put in context, the information that’s there makes it easy to tell who’s who.

Enrique looks between the two men. “No one wanted to tangle with the New York families. This is an outsider.”

Johann nods. He’s perspiring, the sweat trickling down his cheeks. He’s growing paler by the word as he pants. I need this information fast.

“Why risk working with someone you don’t know? How can you be sure they won’t turn on you or have him turn on you?” I tilt my head toward Gérard.

“As long as I get paid, then I accept the risks that go with this. I always have.”

“Who do you suspect hired you?”

“I think it’s somebody in the Maldives.”

“What makes you think that? You said it was someone in Russia.”

“I said that’s where the IPN was from, but that I didn’t think it was someone there. I didn’t mention that when I traced the IPN, that’s where it went to.”

I grit my teeth as I take the phone back from Enrique and go back to the original message thread. I reread the posting and all the correspondence between the man in front of me and his mystery employer.

“Motherfucker. Enrique, it’s my Registered Agent. That’s who posted this.”

“The one who handles your LLC?”

“Yes, but he has nothing to gain because I tucked all the financials away behind enough walls he can’t easily get to them, even as the Registered Agent. He’s doing this on somebody else’s behalf.

“Do you think they’re coercing him into it?”

“Possibly. I don’t know why he’d do it voluntarily. I’ve paid him well for his silence and discretion, but it’s possible somebody’s paying him even better.”

In this world, people will sell their mother’s souls to the devil for the right amount of money. I can’t help but wonder if that’s what happened. Somebody discovered my connection to him, and they’re using it against me. I pay him an exorbitant fee for what he does, so he must be making a fortune if they’re paying enough to convince him to betray me. Or they have something more powerful to coerce him with.

I go through a rapid process of elimination to consider who else might want me dead. Then I think about who has the resources to figure out who I am. The list isn’t that long. I can wager some solid guesses who it is.

“Enrique, I don’t think we need them anymore. You need to go.”

“Alejandro, Javier, and Jorge will come with me. Joaquin and Pablo will stay with you.”

“No, we’ve been through this before. You’re not separating your family because of me. I’m fine on my own. You have men here you trust to protect you when you’re alone. If you trust them, then I do too. My skills are obviously enough that I can easily add to my own defense if necessary. The more of you together, the faster it will go and the greater likelihood you’ll all come home.”

“ Chiquita —”

I lean over and whisper in Enrique’s ear.

“Daddy, you can punish me later. You can command me to do whatever you want. But we already know you won’t convince me to back down on this. Save yourself the time and energy rather than arguing with me. Just give in now, and I’ll gladly do whatever you want later. I promise.”

His skepticism is obvious, but practicality wins when he nods.

“All right, but I wouldn’t get used to having your way all the time, chiquita , or you will find yourself disappointed.”

“I know, Daddy. Hurry and bring your sister home.”

We gaze at one another, and now that we’ll be apart rather than working together, the temptation to tell him how I feel nearly gets the better of me. His fingers channel through my hair as he pulls me close and gives me a potent kiss that sends me reeling as it intoxicates me.

When we pull apart, we look at each other, and we don’t need words. We smile and each dip our chin to acknowledge our feelings. We want to express them now, but we want to say them in private. Enrique and I look back at the men in front of us.

“Little one, I’m not convinced their usefulness is over.”

“All right, if you think there’s reason to keep them alive, then do so.”

“I’ll have men take them to our place.”

I know what that means, so I don’t need an explanation. I’ve never been to the Vizzinis’ place. I don’t know for sure where it is, even though I have an idea. I’ve never wanted to know that about the Vizzinis, and I don’t want to know it about Enrique’s family either. The less I know, the fewer nightmares I can have.

The men who’re holding Catalina—their nightmares haven’t begun. But they will when Enrique and his family get there.

“I better show you the panic room if you’re going to be here without any of the ninos .”