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“We’ll sign.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mildred glares at her brother not a full second after he agrees, face red with anger. “We can’t just give him—”
“Shut it and sit down, Mildred!” Antonio’s voice thunders: it’s the angriest I’ve never seen him. “We need him, and I won’t get fucked in the ass because you think the world should bend at your feet. I’m the president, not you.”
“If this goes south, I’ll spit on your grave,” she hisses, her face turned and I hear a low sniffle that’s out of character, but I don’t question it. Mildred has always been off to me. Instead, I focus on the apologetic expression her brother gives Malcolm.
“I don’t want your apologies.” My cousin nods at the group of pens atop the table. “Sign before I change my mind. Those are my stipulations. Take them or leave them.”
They took, and now we overthrow after removing all traces of the contract in this country. I’ve sent the files out this morning via private courier to the office in Costa Rica.
“Ready to head out, Muñeca?” Javi asks from the edge of my desk, pulling my attention from the scheduling I had to adjust due to today’s bull. My neck cracks as I look at him, my head throbbing a bit from hours upon hours of tracing every last chunk of info with the IT department. “You look exhausted.”
“I will be in a minute. Why?”
“I’m waiting to walk you out before heading out to pick up the twins.”
“They’re not hiding under a rock in Utah?”
“Hiding in plain sight approximately twenty minutes from here.”
Nodding, I ignore the sudden bout of butterflies at his smile. At the softness in his eyes. “Who’s going? Should I prepare a statement or—”
“Not necessary, beautiful. I already put something together for you in case we’re intercepted by anyone watching the place.” Javi places a USB flash drive beside my pen holder that l left right where he left it and he smirks every day it stays that way. Sure, it pissed me off, but at the same time, I find his knack for finding ways to get under my skin annoyingly endearing. “They shouldn’t, but it’s just a precaution.”
“Okay.” I grab the small device, shut my computer down, and open my purse, leaving the USB inside a small pocket. “My car’s in the—”
“I’ve moved mine beside yours. It’s not an issue.”
“Thank you.” Christ, I find him sexy when thoughtful.
“Muñeca, never thank me for taking care of you. It’s my pleasure.”
And damn me if I didn’t blush right then. I like the sound of being his more than I should. Love the thought of him being there for me.
Not because I’m weak, but because it makes him happy to be near me. Because I’m his focus.
He’s going to break my walls down, and I’m starting to question if I need them.
***
11
I ARRIVE AT the private penthouse the Frederick twins keep in Chicago. It’s in a nice area, less than half an hour from the Asher building, where they hide in plain sight. Not in Utah like they hope we’d think, burning daylight hours that could lead to their escape.
Because it’s hard to find an ant in a pile where possibly millions surround the guilty one, but I have a skill many don’t.
Patience.
In Colombia, I took personal care of my family’s enemies. Politicians and cartel members, it made no difference and there are plenty of places to hide but give a rat confidence, and it shows its face. Security gives comfort and the feeling of untouchability; that’s when I strike.
The lobby is busy when I step inside. Multiple heads turn to look—the group of women checking in begins to whisper and giggle, but I don’t pause or encourage.
I’m here for the twins, with Carmelo as added encouragement if need be.
And while I’ll never hit a woman, if I have to make her brother suffer so she complies, so be it. They brought this upon themselves.
“What floor?” Carmelo asks, stepping into the empty elevator cart.
