“If word gets out that we took clients on a mission and one of you dies, our business is over. For good.”
“Then you are fired as bodyguards and hired to take us to the cartel,” Valeria said.
“If we refuse?” Hunter raised a brow.
Laila shrugged. “We could hire others. Or I could act alone.”
The room fell silent. Everyone knew she wasn’t making empty threats.
“I am coming, too,” Valeria insisted, shocking Laila. “For too long, my sister shielded me and my son from danger. But we are family.” Valeria took her hand. “Rise or fall, we do it together.”
“Fuck,” Hunter sighed out. “Please let me talk you out of this. Give me your contacts and I’ll—”
“No,” Laila insisted. “They know me, and they will speak to me. I do not wish to waste time on a pointless argument. Are we in agreement? Or do I take my contacts and my leverage and find my own way to rescue Trees?”
Hunter looked to Logan and Joaquin, each of whom gave a grudging nod, then he held out his hand. “Deal. You contact everyone, and I’ll get the men locked and loaded.”
Laila shook his hand, eager to start finding Trees. “Deal.”
* * *
Mexico
Twenty hours later, Laila trembled anxiously, her head full of what-ifs, as she waited for Geraldo Montilla to show. She prayed she could hold herself together and keep everyone safe for the next hour. Everything would likely be over by then.
After that, she would either be in Trees’s arms…or mourning the loss of a man she could never replace in her heart.
Beside her, Valeria was rattled but holding herself together. Jorge, though listless, was unusually quiet, as if he sensed the tension in the air. Around them, most of EM Security, along with Jack Cole, Deke Trenton, Trevor Forsythe, and Ghost, guarded the abandoned hospital they had chosen as their meet point. Kane and Zy had Victor Ramos, whom EM had captured three hours ago, under wraps nearby. Thankfully, that part of her plan had gone off perfectly.
It had been poetic justice to watch Victor swagger in, assuming he would take advantage of her foolish belief that he had abducted Trees and trap her. The look on his face when he realized she had duped him instead was priceless. With his minions subdued and his wrists shackled, Laila had relished slapping his face as hard as she could. She’d wanted to do far more, but they needed him alive—for now. She’d contented herself with her stinging palm, the pain a happy reminder that, if all went right, Victor would soon join his brother, Hector, in hell.
Her elation was dimmed by the fact that Trees’s blue tracking dot had been extinguished shortly before the flight that had taken him out of the country left. It had not flashed on since. She didn’t want to think about the implications of that.
“Are you ready?” Valeria reached for her hand.
Laila nodded. “As I will ever be. You know Montilla and his thugs may barge in, guns blazing.”
“Not with Jorge here. He will never put the boy at risk.”
Not for the first time, Laila wondered why her sister was so sure of that. Maybe he realized he was surrounded by sharks like Federico and wanted his heir to be family? Perhaps, but would the drug lord still be alive and able to run his business by the time Jorge matured into a man capable of running a massive criminal organization…if he ever did? Then again, Valeria had been proven right when Montilla had snapped at the chance to meet Jorge, along with taking Victor captive, in exchange for Trees’s life.
Beside Laila, Matt hovered protectively. Someone must have spoken into the comm device in his ear because he stiffened. “Roger that.” Then he cupped her elbow. “Montilla and his entourage are on their way in.”
“Is Trees with them?”
Matt paused, then shrugged. “One of their vehicles is a van. That’s all we know.”
Which could mean anything. Laila tried not to think the worst. But if she could double-cross, maneuver, deceive, and trick people to save Trees, she knew Montilla was capable of doing the same for his own ends. After all, he hadn’t survived nearly three decades as the head of this cartel without being crafty. She had barely lived.
The realization made her uneasy. She swallowed back a bundle of nerves.
Minutes ticked by like hours until a couple of armed thugs appeared, glaring menacingly at EM Security, who also dripped weapons. One wrong move or one hot-headed maverick, and they could all be dead. Laila hated that her sister and Jorge were here, but there had been no dissuading Valeria.
The next man to enter the expansive, dilapidated reception area swaggered in, wearing a white shirt that accentuated his sun-roughened face. He had thick black brows over piercing dark eyes without a soul. He was younger than Laila had imagined and attractive in a sinister way. He was definitely dangerous. She resisted the urge to shudder.
“That’s Federico,” Valeria murmured just above a whisper.
Laila made a mental note to give him a wide berth.
Then an older man filed into the room next, leaning on a cane as if it was more a bother than a necessity. He was average height, average build, dressed like a college professor, minus the tweed jacket, in a crisp dress shirt, a bold blue tie, and a gray vest. He wore a simple wristwatch and had a piercing gaze.