Page 19 of Chris

He was all too aware in that moment of certain things he needed to be careful to do for this plan of theirs to work. Things he needed to portray to allow him inside the cartel’s top echelon to get closer to Valeria—wherever she was here, because no one saw her yet.

They needed to trust him, at all costs. He was to be no better or worse than them, in their eyes, and willing to indulge in whatever they asked of him to make sure they didn’t question his reasoning for being here. “It’s a beautiful home. Almost reminds me of my parents’ mansion.”

Jorge eyed Chris for a moment, his silence stretching on a beat too long before he said, “Large, is it?”

“Two wings. More acres than someone cares to count.”

“Not as protected, I bet.”

Chris shrugged. “Better not to make a show, in our part of the world.”

Jorge nodded. “I can understand that, I suppose.”

Gian cleared his throat. “Shall we begin this process, then?”

“Yes, let’s get comfortable inside. We figured … a quick lunch, and then maybe a drink later in the back by the pool before a proper dinner. If that works for you, Gian?”

“It does,” Gian replied.

“Good. Lunch will be ready soon. Later, the rest of our family will join us for dinner.”

Oh?

Chris kept that question inside, but barely. Did the rest of the family mean Jorge’s supposed wife—Valeria—and his daughter, Maria, too? Because that would answer a lot of things that were still unknown here.

“I hope you like bourbon,” Jorge said, “as that is our drink of choice for business deals.”

“I do,” Gian said.

Chris smiled when the men turned their backs to him and his father. The Guzzis were in.

For now.

Lunch went well, and as Chris assumed, his father took over the majority of the conversation with Jorge. Chris and Samuel sat at opposite ends of the table, enjoying their meal and sharing a word when asked for it, but otherwise, staying out of the dealings between the other two.

Not that Chris minded.

He enjoyed being the silent one in a conversation more than he liked to be the one who talked. It allowed him to learn a hell of a lot more when he wasn’t concerned about what might slip out of his mouth.

Once lunch finished, and Jorge and Gian seemed fine with the specifics of their arrangement, with one supplying the other cocaine, the four moved outside.

Well, three, he supposed.

Samuel disappeared after lunch. He stepped outside with them for a moment, but left soon after, re-entering the mansion through the back without as much as a word why.

It didn’t matter.

Chris had other things on his mind.

The pool, for starters.

His anxiety picked up as he, his father, and Jorge walked along the side of the pool, each with a glass of bourbon in their hands to sip from. He wouldn’t enjoy the drink this close to water even if the fear seemed unfounded.

Chris could swim.

He learned to do that.

The pool on one end was not deep.