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The line clicks.“Uh, the bosses phone,” a guy with an Irish accent, answers the phone.
“I need to speak to Nero. Now.”
“He’s busy right now.”
“Well fucking disturb him. Tell him its Rafael."
There’s a rustling over the line before he shouts. “Boss.”
“I’m fucking busy, Tommy. I’ll call back,” Nero growls.
“But, boss…”
“God-fucking-damn, Tommy!” Apparently, his temper is short today.
“It’s Rafael,” the Irish guy mumbles.
“Gio, shoot him if he moves,” Nero says, his voice closer now. “This is not a fucking good time,” he snaps into the phone.
“Anna’s gone.”
“What? How?”
“I had four men on her. Three were found shot half an hour ago. I’ve called in scouts from the edges of my territory and put a call out at the border. I’ll get her back, but I'm keeping you in the loop.”
“Shit. Fucking get her back, Rafael or you and I are going to have a mutual problem in the form of Una.” I hang up and toss the phone down on the back seat.
“Get your best guys to the Sinaloa compound. Now,” I order Sam.
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Undoubtedly,” I say. He nods and presses a few buttons before placing the phone to his ear. The low hum of his voice slips into the background.
“Take us to Los Zepata,” I say to the driver. He turns the car down a narrow alleyway, driving us toward the very Sinaloa compound that Anna was kept in. I know Dominges will be there. He likes to roll around in the filth and squalor of his own corrupt world. I close my eyes and picture Anna’s face until it morphs into an image of him behind her, stalking her. The smile on her face slips, fear taking over her beautiful features. I slam my fist against the door and wish it were his jaw.
“Rafe, you need to keep it together,” Sam warns.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Samuel takes a deep breath. “You have to tread carefully. You can’t start a war over…”
I turn on him. “Over what?”
He eyes me carefully. “Over a girl.”
I laugh humorlessly. “A girl?”
“What is she then?”
“She’s my fucking woman,” I roar. “I will slaughter his entire cartel and bathe in their blood to get her back.” His brows hike up, and his mouth opens and then closes again. “They come onto my property. Again. They take her. They shoot my men.” I shake my head, grappling with the blinding rage that threatens to consume me. “Figure out where the fuck your loyalties lay, Samuel. If you’re not with me, you’re against me.”
“Was that a threat, Rafe?” he snaps.
My hand flies to his throat in a heartbeat, squeezing hard. He stares straight at me—his brows pinched tightly and his face turning red. “It was a simple statement. Stand in my way, and I’ll go through you. Friend or not.” I force myself to release him and toss my head back against the seat. My vision is tinted red, my blood hammering through my veins like a runaway train.
Sam coughs slightly, dragging heavy breaths into his lungs. “You always have my loyalty, you prick,” he growls. “I just don’t want to see you get killed because you’re going off half-cocked.”
Silence permeates the car and guilt niggles at me, but all I can think of is her. “I love her,” I say quietly.
