I blow a breath, placing a hand on my hip. “Goddamn it, Gianna.”
“What, Draco?”
“She could have found you there.”
“Good thing I didn’t stay then, right? She won’t find me here.”
“No one can be trusted. Don’t you get that?”
She looks at the open window. “I’m here. You’re here. If she tries to come for me, you and your men will be around. That’s all that matters, right?”
I stare her down. She thinks she’s so fucking smart. I can’t stand it sometimes. “Patanza, get Gianna ready.”
Patanza nods and turns, marching down the hallway, bobbing her head at Gianna before disappearing. Gianna gives me her back and walks to the door. Before she gets away, I call her name and she pauses, looking over her shoulder.
“You and your cousin will fly there with us, but only so I can keep an eye on you both. Try any shit, and I won’t have a problem slicing your throats.”
“Won’t you?” she responds, and I swear I see a smirk tug at the corner of her lips before she walks away, her full hips swaying in the process.
When it’s time to go, she walks downstairs in black cargo pants and a sleeveless, dark gray shirt. Her hair is pulled back into one single braid, her face clear of all makeup.
Even without it, she’s still so goddamn flawless. I can’t fucking stand it. Her bold green eyes are set on mine, sparkling from the sunlight streaming in through the skylight windows.
She walks down the stairs in calf-high black boots, and strapped around both her thighs are leather holsters, guns tucked away inside them. Around her waist is a leather belt, a smaller pistol inside the holster.
It takes everything in me to look away, not gawk like some fucking love-struck idiot.
I can’t stare at her, no matter how badly I want to. I can’t let her know I still want her. What happened last night was a fucking mistake. I shouldn’t have fucked her. It made me look stupid and weak, and I can’t afford to be that around her.
Not anymore.
When she’s down the steps, I give a hard look at Patanza, whom I’m sure told Gianna what to wear and how to strap herself up. Patanza is just as loaded, if not more, with holsters, knives, and guns.
Clark trails behind them, pleased, I’m sure, to have his guns in his possession again.
It’s only for now. I need all the men I can get. I don’t know what I’m walking into going back to Lantía. If he’s willing to sacrifice his own life by helping me, then fine, but just in case he pulls some bullshit, Patanza has her eye on him. She’s my best shooter.
“We’re ready,” Gianna declares, and I lower my gaze to hers.
Turning my back and marching for the door, I tell them, “Let’s go.”
Guillermo pulls up to the curb with the van, and Sebastien hops out, pulling the back door open. I step aside, letting Patanza and Gianna in first.
Clark follows behind them, peering up at me on his way. Before he can get inside, I press a firm hand to his chest and grip his shoulder, stopping him. “Only reason you’re alive right now is because your cousin wants you to be, but if I see you do anything shifty, I will end you.”
His mouth twitches, eyes hardening as they hold mine. “Trust me, if I was stupid enough to stand against El Jefe with no backup, I might as well kill my fucking self. Fret not, kingpin.” He claps my shoulder. “I’ve got your fucking back. You’ll see.” He jumps into the third row, right beside Patanza. Gia is on the second row, where I have to sit, and an exasperated sigh falls through my lips.
I climb in anyway, avoiding her eyes just as much as she avoids mine.
Sebastien is back in the driver’s seat, and Guillermo puts pressure on the pedal, taking off.
The ride to the runway is quiet.
Everyone, I’m sure, is thinking, mentally preparing themselves to take action. Everyone is strapped with guns, loaded, prepared for the worst.
I feel Gianna look over at me, but I don’t look her way. I keep my focus ahead, watching the road. In an hour and a half, Henry might be gone. But he won’t get far. We’ll track him.
“Make sure Nito sticks around the mansion. Tell him not to get too close,” I tell Sebastien. He pulls out his phone and dials him, speaking in his native tongue when the line is answered.
“How long are you going to give me the silent treatment?” Gianna asks.
I look at her sideways before peering ahead again.
“It’s getting old, Draco,” she murmurs lowly, but I’m sure everyone in the car can hear her.
“No one asked you to come back.”
“I wanted to,” she says with venom in her tone.