Page 26

THIRTEEN

The previous night

brUNO

M ama sat across from me, her fingers silently drumming against the arm of the chair.

Her shiny black shoes were crossed at the ankles and were as expensive as her perfectly pressed Italian blouse.

My office always felt smaller when she was in it.

I tugged at my tie and wondered what brought her by without so much as a call or text.

“Bruno, I’m worried about you.” She studied me carefully, and I shifted in my seat.

“Worried about me? Why?”

She nodded at her right-hand man, Rio, and he handed me his phone. I looked at the photo of Nicole and me on the small screen. How the hell did he get that?

“You told me she wasn’t going to be a problem.

You told me you could control her. Rio,” she nodded again, and he swiped to the left to reveal another photo.

This one was of an angry Nicole as she yelled at me before I sent her away.

“That doesn’t look like control. That looks like you’re thinking with your verga again.

” Her voice held a note of steel, and I had to stop myself from reaching down to pat my crotch.

I pushed Rio’s phone away. “Photos can be interpreted a thousand different ways, Mama. What you see there is a woman with a temper. A woman who doesn’t like being told what to do, yet she’s out there doing it anyway.

” I shrugged and made sure I seemed unaffected by what they showed me.

Inside, though, I seethed with anger. I’d have to watch my men more closely and see who would take photos and send them to Rio.

She leaned forward and stared more intently. A shiver ran up by spine. My mother could always chill me to the bone with one of her looks. She was a woman to be reckoned with, and you didn’t want to be on her bad side.

“ Mijo , you’re a smart man, but you should have killed that damn reporter long ago when you had the chance.

No te enganes, mijo . Your little games don’t work—and you sure as hell can’t fool her,” she lowered her voice to just above a whisper, “but that puta will get you killed.” She held my gaze a moment longer before she eased herself to her feet.

A sudden movement made us both look toward the door as Armondo whisked into the room. He bent down to whisper in my ear, and my blood boiled as his words sank in.

“Where is he?”

“Campeche.” I fought not to curse and instead waved him off to get the jet ready. I rubbed my head then remembered I needed to look calm and in control. Little got past my mother.

“As for the child,” Mama went on as if we hadn’t been interrupted, “I don’t care if he has a few drops of that traitor’s blood in his veins. He also needs to go. By whatever means necessary.” She kissed the top of my head and swept out of the room.

I tugged at my tie again and angrily waved at the rest of my men, and they scurried out of the room before I could take my anger out on them.

“We’re ready.” Armondo stood in the doorway.

“Fuck.” I flung my crystal glass across the room and enjoyed the sound it made as it shattered on the tiled floor as I hurried off to pack my bag.

I settled into my seat on the jet, and my mind spun as we took off.

Maybe Mama was right, and I should have killed Nicole.

I wondered if she would really do what I asked.

I knew she cared for her cameraman, but it would take more than that for her to bend to my will.

I wanted to believe Sully was right and she could be trusted.

Still, what if she had Sully wrapped around her finger and was playing with both of us?

Mama was smart, and she didn’t get to where she was without fear blazing her trail.

She and I both knew I had a weakness for that woman.

I got some sleep before we landed, and soon we were waiting for Nando to finally show himself.

“That’s twice now you lost her,” I said quietly in English as I put a gun to Nando’s ugly, mutilated face when he jumped in the back of the car.

He was shocked to see me because I was supposed to still be attending that very important meeting with Mama, but instead, I was now in Campeche dealing with his fucking mess. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. One second, I had her, and the next, a grenade went off and we were separated. Canos has soldiers everywhere.”

I dropped the hand that held the gun and pressed the heels of my palms against my aching eyes. “Dios mío! Qué desastre!”

“ Sí, it is a disaster.” He raised his hands when I glared at him and spoke English. “But I believe she is still looking.”

“And how could you know that?” I held up a finger when my phone rang. “What?” I snapped.

“She’s on her way to the airport.” Gabriel sounded off, and I knew something had happened.

I leaned forward as I tried to calm myself. “Do you have eyes on her?”

“ Non, monsieur , she’s on a bus that left the hotel. It travels to the airport, but I am following.”

It was hard to deal with the level of incompetence I had to put up with. I tapped the gun to my head as I thought.

“Also,” he stumbled, “her boyfriend is here.”

I sat straight and repeated his words. “Boyfriend?”

“Oui, monsieur. I mean— sí, senor. ” He took a breath and switched to English. “I met him at the hotel when I first made contact.”

“You sure it was her boyfriend?”

“ Si ,” he stopped himself, “yes, he was very protective, and later I watched them go dress shopping and to dinner.”

Nicole would never speak about her life back in the States.

I wondered what was really going on. Who was this mystery man who would risk his life to be with her while she worked in Mexico?

For me. I ground my teeth together when I thought of another man touching her.

Apparently, the scars I left must have healed. I guessed she’d need another reminder.

“I am at the airport now.” Gabriel sounded stressed, and I heard a car door slam shut on his end. “It is very crowded here.”

“Find her,” I ordered.

“I see the passengers.” He sounded out of breath, and I grew more and more impatient. “Sir, I don’t see her. Perhaps she is in the bathroom.”

“No,” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, “she found the tracker, and you fell for it.”

“Sir,” Nando held up his phone, “I think I might know where she’s going to be.”

I snatched his phone from his hand and read the tiny font off the screen. “Go, get her, and if you don’t get her, don’t come back.”

I waved, and my driver, Armondo, got out and opened Nando’s door. He yanked him out by the scruff of his shirt and dumped him on the ground.

“Where to now, sir?” Armondo said in English as he got back behind the wheel.

I tapped my chin with my fingers and suddenly got an idea.