Page 49 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

I can’t let that happen. He’s the only safety net I have now.

After a long, tormenting minute that feels like I’ve been thrown into hell with the devil himself, Igor finally sighs and closes the folder.

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

My heart lurches and panic blooms in my chest. I feel a pang of guilt for not opening up. I want to, but the fear unfurling in my chest doesn’t let me. The only way I can convince Igor that I’m not involved anymore is by bringing him proof. My words alone won’t fix this.

Even as my spine stiffens and dread seeps into my bones, I clench my jaw and lie to him. “No.”

His brow arches and he searches my face as if looking for a crack in my story. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he dismisses me with a wave of his hand, marking the end of the conversation.

I know he doesn’t believe me, at least not fully, but a new wave of determination builds inside me.

My nostrils flare and my hands ball into fists. Serrano dared to mess with me, and he’ll pay for it.

I’ll beat him at his own game and feed him to the dogs.

Chapter Fourteen

Igor

“Joaquin was murdered last night.”

I look up from the documents spread across my desk to find Sergei striding into my office with a grim expression on his face. Disbelief washes over me.

“What?”

“I just got a call from the Mexican cartel. He was assassinated in his office last night.” Sergei steps inside, shutting the door behind him. “They found him around midnight with three shots in him—two to the chest, one to the head.”

For a long moment, I simply stare at him.

Death is common in our world, especially sudden, brutal death, because with every ally you make, you double your enemies.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but Joaquin Villalobos wasn’t just some street thug. He was the head of one of the largest cartels in Mexico. Men like him don’t just die overnight, especially when he’s always heavily guarded by security.

“What happened?”

Sergei shakes his head. “I’m not sure.”

I lean back in my chair, my mind immediately drifting to the meeting we had barely a day ago. Joaquin had looked me in the eye and sworn neither he nor his men were behind the attack, and even when I got the call and informed him it was traced back to his cartel, he still had doubts.

And now he’s dead.

I rub my temple as I try to gather my thoughts. To find out the person behind this, we’d first have to figure out who’d benefit the most from Joaquin’s death. Unless he’s a fool, no one would make such a bold move against the head of the cartel unless whatever he’s getting in return would be worth the possibility of getting killed.

So far, only one name comes to mind. “What’s Emiliano doing about his death?”

As second-in-command, it’s his job to find out who dared to kill Joaquin right under the cartel’s nose. If anyone’s going to find out what the hell happened to Joaquin, it’s him.

“He took over before sunrise. Word on the street says he’s behind it. But no one dares to question him now that he’s the head of the cartel.”

I rub my temple thoughtfully and connect the dots.

Joaquin mysteriously ends up dead. Instead of a burial and ruthless investigation, Emiliano takes over before Joaquin’s body is even cold.

Something’s not right.

I straighten my spine. “Fetch me everything you can on Emiliano. He’s far less friendly than Joaquin was. Plus, he seems to have a thirst for bloodshed. We need to know what he’s after.”