AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Because I'd be the dumbest motherfucker on this planet if I buy the coincidence claim. She disappeared when their cameras were turned off for scheduled maintenance by their provider.
“Patron, we parked as Carlos requested, near the back exit, and didn't see anything.” The male of the two shifts his eyes toward his coworker nervously. “No one came in our out from our end.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes...shit!” My hand is wrapped around his neck now, lifting him from his seat while the other guard whimpers in fear. “Please, we did—”
“I have a critically wounded guard and a missing fiancé.” Mom gasps—says my name lowly, but I pay her no mind. Not now. Not until Solimar is back in my arms. “So, I'll ask once more. Where. Is. She?”
“And my mom, Mr. Lucas? Can you search for her too?” Christ, I'd forgotten her baby brother is here. He's too young for any of life's cruel reality to touch him, and I loosen my grip—the man crumbles to the floor, but young Matias shakes his head. “I've seen worse. Just, please...please find them.”
His unshed tears—eyes so much like hers—cause my chest to ache and I nod. “You have my word. I'll bring her back.”
“Thank—” The door to the penthouse our family’s sharing is thrown open, and in the doorway stands a disheveled-looking Mrs. Quintero.
Sweaty, eyes bloodshot, and with her hands stained in blood.
“Veronica.” I say, and those wild eyes settle on mine, crumbling into a painful wail as her son rushes forward. He doesn’t care about her state or the red markings on her body. Instead, he hugs her hard and whispers something that’s almost too low to hear.
But I do. I catch it.
“Was it him? Is he here?”
“Si, Mijo.” Veronica begins to shake, the shock of whatever transpired hitting her. “Now, please go to the room and bring me the small red cosmetic bag on the vanity.”
“Okay.” No arguing. No questions asked.
Once he’s out of earshot, her focus turns to me. On unsteady legs, she walks over and grips my arm tight. “Matias took her back to Colombia, Alejandro. He threatened to kill me where I stood after showing us pictures of my Carlos, shot and left for dead.” A broken sob passes through trembling lips. “My little girl sacrificed herself for me while I stood frozen and in shock. I blanked, and it wasn’t until they’d left that I came to. I rushed out of the restaurant, searched for any sign of our guards, and all I could find was Carlos fighting to climb out of the SUV. He’s the one that told me to run when I rushed to help him. He warned me that this asshole shot him and since we didn’t know who else was working with my husband, I needed to get out and not lead anyone back here.
That son of a bitch just signed his death warrant.
“Thank you, Veronica. I apologize for this...for what my—”
“No.” She’s shaking her head vehemently, clutching my arm tighter. “This is on him. He’s a power-hungry asshole and if it weren’t for my kids, I’d curse the day we met.”
I’m nodding, my fury growing with each beat of my heart. My veins throb and muscles are coiling tight. “How long will it take your son to find the bag?”
“It’s our cue for him to exit and wait elsewhere.”
Very smart. “Close your eyes.”
“I trust you.” Veronica does as I ask, blocking one of her senses a few seconds before I pull the trigger. The male guard is dead within seconds, the bullet to his neck causing him to drown in his own blood.
“Thank you. Now, I’m going to turn you around, and you three will pack up and be ready to leave within the hour.”
“And the cleanup?” Lourdes asks while Mom steps in and takes Veronica’s hand, pulling her out of the room. “Do we need to wait?”
Geronimo, who’s been standing off to the side, pockets his phone. “Already taken care of, courtesy of Thiago, Patron. I sent his cousin a text inquiring about organic composting.”
I nod in appreciation. I’m going to owe him a hefty bonus when all is said and done.
He’s more than earned it.
“Gracias, Geronimo. Have the plane ready to go in one hour; anyone who’s not ready then will stay.”
“Consider it done.”
In less than twenty-four hours, I’m back in Bogota and staying at a hotel less than half a mile away from Casa de Nariño. I can see the presidential palace from here. Count how many guards are at the gate, and through my eyes on the ground, I’m aware of every second of Solimar’s stay.
