Everything happens so quickly once I’m out the door of the mansion.

I’m literally tossed into the back of the SUV by Patanza, the driver pulling away without a moment’s hesitation as soon as her door slams shut.

It’s only the driver, plus Patanza, who is sitting in the passenger seat, and me in the vehicle. I twist around, looking back at the mansion as his men and even some of the maids rush in and out, stuffing suitcases and bags into the other cars and SUVs.

“Where’s Draco?” I ask, turning back around, focusing on Patanza.

But she acts like she doesn’t even hear me, looking out of her window instead.

“Patanza, where are we going?” I ask, making sure my voice sounds more demanding than terrified.

“Just shut up and ride.” Her voice is calm. Too calm. She doesn’t seem the least bit worried, and since she isn’t, I assume I shouldn’t be either.

We ride for a long time—I want to say for over an hour.

By the time we stop, the sun is blazing in the sky. The tires of the SUV slow to a creep and then the driver parks. Both the driver and Patanza jump out, Patanza coming for my door while the guard hustles for the trunk.

I slide out of the truck and she turns, walking to a warehouse not too far away. I follow her, the driver behind me, suitcases in hand. She enters the building, and there are people inside. I pause a moment, stunned.

I wouldn’t be so surprised at the sight of them if they weren’t all completely naked beneath black aprons, standing in front of mountains of pure-white cocaine, measuring and bagging it all carefully.

There are three guards posted at the doors, keeping their eyes on the people.

What shocks me most is that none—and I mean none—of them look at us when we come in. They remained focused on their work, not even batting an eyelash. This must be one of Draco’s many production centers.

I follow Patanza through a gray door with a SALIDA sign above it. EXIT. As soon as we’re out, a jet comes into view. I slow my pace, but Patanza keeps marching, as well as the driver, who hurries past me without even looking my way.

The jet is sleek and white, the engine already humming loudly as I make my way there, slowly but surely.

There is a tall, gangly man wearing a black baseball cap standing beside the staircase. His skin is heavily tanned, his eyes an electric green when they flash up to meet mine. He asks Patanza something, and when she responds and they both look my way, I know they’re talking about me.

I finally meet up to them, and she orders me to get on the jet.

“Is Draco coming?” I ask, my eyes locking with hers.

She narrows her gaze. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters. I have no idea where I’m going, and I don’t know where he is.”

Patanza steps to the left, holding a hand out and raising a stern brow, gesturing for me to get on board. I challenge her stare, narrowing my eyes.

Her hand drops, her agitation on full display now. “Get on the fucking jet, Gia,” she snaps at me.

“It’s Patrona to you,” I bite out.

Patanza bares her teeth and starts to charge me, but the man beside her presses a heavy hand to her chest, simply shaking his head.

“Calm down. She is still The Patrona,” the man says in his native tongue. He steps around her, extending an arm, gesturing to the steps of the jet. “This jet will lead you to a safe house, Patrona. This was Jefe’s order. I’m sure he will contact you soon about it.”

“Why isn’t he with me now?” I ask in Spanish.

“He has a few more things to handle here before he can be with you.”

I swallow hard, looking from him to glare at Patanza. Without another word, I board the jet, stepping into the first cabin. I notice there are two, both complete with ivory leather recliners.

The cabin I’m standing in has a table set up in front of two recliners, and a three-seated sofa in front of the windows. Across from the sofa is a flat screen TV on top of a wooden stand. It’s all bolted and secured.

It’s luxurious, and screams Draco for sure.

With a sigh, I walk to the sofa and sit, staring out the window at the empty desert. The jet shakes as someone boards, and Patanza appears. She glances at me briefly, but turns to go to the other cabin. A door slides closed from her side, and I’m fucking glad. I don’t want to deal with her right now.

The driver comes on next, reaching above one of the leather recliners to the right to tuck the suitcases into the bin. He doesn’t even look at me. He shuts the compartment and is gone in a matter of seconds.

The man, who apparently is the only one with some respect around here, comes on next, smelling of tobacco. The door shuts when he’s on board, sealing us in. He’s taken his baseball cap off, revealing shiny raven hair, which makes his green eyes stand out even more.

I’ve never seen him before. Never met him.

“You should sit in one of the chairs for now, Patrona,” he suggests, pointing at one of the recliners. I realize he must only speak Spanish. “We’ll be taking off in less than a minute and these are the only chairs with seatbelts. You will have to buckle in until we’re clear to roam around.”

I don’t argue. I just do it.

As soon as I’m buckled in, I plant a fist beneath my chin and look out of the window.

“A drink before we leave?” He points back to the kitchenette across from the lavatory.

I peer up at him.

“Rum, please,” I murmur. Rum was my mother’s go-to drink whenever she was stressed.

He bobs his head, taking off. I hear glasses clank and ice rattle, and then he’s back in no time with a short tumbler in hand, filled halfway with brown liquid and ice. He hands the cold glass to me and I take a sip, loving the crisp taste.

The man sits in the recliner across from me and buckles in. He pulls out his cellphone to text someone, and then he places it in his cup holder, looking right into my eyes.

His smile is soft, eyes gentle. He seems nice, but I can tell he wouldn’t have a problem killing someone if it came down to it, just like everyone else.

“Why have I never met you before?” I ask when the wheels of the jet start rolling. He cocks a brow, his head going into a slight tilt like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Yeah, he definitely only speaks Spanish.

I ask the question again, in Spanish this time.

“Ahh.” He presses his lips. “I work the cities, the jets, the factories and warehouses.”

“So you’re not one of his guards?”

“I’m more of a…manager, I suppose. I handle some of the shipments, set up the schedule for his flights whenever he needs one, and handle the employees’ paychecks.”

“The employees? Being those people in the factory?”

“Yes. As well as his guards.”

“What’s your name?”

“Emilio.”

I nod, giving him one more sweep over with my eyes before returning my focus to whatever is outside the window. “I’m sure you know what’s going on. You’re probably pissed at me too.”

He gives a throaty chuckle. “How can I be pissed when I wasn’t very close to Mr. Thiago? Not to sound cruel, but in this business it happens. Constantly.”

I glance over at him. “He…didn’t deserve what happened to him. I’m sure everyone thinks it’s my fault. I know Patanza does. And it is. It’s all my fault.”

“I would not worry, Patrona. Shit happens.” He shrugs, as if it’s that simple.

“Draco blames me too. He hasn’t said it, but I know it’s in the back of his mind. He hasn’t spoken to me since they . . .” I swallow hard, and it hurts like hell to get it down. I take a sip of my rum to ease the gulp. “Since they shot him right in front of us.”

Emilio’s lips press thin, those bold green eyes hard on mine. With a heavy sigh, he says, “Relax, Patrona. Sleep. You need it. We won’t be on here for too long. Don’t worry about that right now. You’re safe.”

I pull my eyes away, sinking into the cushion of my chair. The jet is in the air now, the turbulence a bit rocky. Once it settles and the jet is flying smoothly, I finish off my drink and tuck my feet under my bottom. I try to sleep, but it’s fucking impossible. I shift and twist, squeezing my eyes shut, all of it to no avail.

When we’re in the clear to roam, Emilio stands and gives me privacy, but even with him gone, I can’t sleep.

About an hour into the flight, I hear the door Patanza closed slide open. I watch her turn the corner where the kitchenette is and pour something.

She steps around the corner with a cup of clear liquid on ice inside it. She takes the seat right across from me and I sit up, brows creasing, ready for her to blast me again.

“Relax,” she mutters. “I’m not allowed to hurt you…even though I really want to.” She sips her drink—vodka or tequila I assume—and then releases a sharp breath.

She slouches back in her seat, eyes closed. It’s the first time I’ve seen her drink alcohol, let alone let her guard down like this.

“I’ve had time to cool off,” she states.

I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say.

She finishes off her drink in a matter of seconds, and the ice clinks against the glass when she places it in her cup holder.

She lets out a long sigh. “Do you know how long you’ve been here? Around Jefe?”

My eyebrows dip. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Two months. We took you in June. It’s August 10^th now.”

“Oh.”

“Jefe has never trusted anyone that fast—not within a two-month time frame.”

I blink quickly, putting my line of sight on something else. My chest feels tight and raw again.

“How do you know he trusts me?”

“Because he told me, idiota.”

My lips push together, and despite where we are and what we’re going through right now, my heart flutters.

“He said we were supposed to do whatever you needed—before all of this shit happened. He didn’t care that you walked the beach alone, or swam alone, or even if you wanted to go to town again. He would have let you because he knew then that you were smart and would return. He knew you weren’t going anywhere. He knew you weren’t stupid.”

I lower my gaze, focusing on my red fingernails. “He never should have trusted me.”

“No,” she scoffs in agreement. “He shouldn’t have.” I tilt my head, locking my eyes on hers. She picks up her glass, swirling the ice around. “You know, Thiago promised me something the day before he got caught.”

“He did?”

“Yes.” Her head drops, her black hair curtaining her face. “He promised he would take me away from here. He promised me I wouldn’t need to be a guard anymore. That we would run away together.”

Oh my God. I squeeze my seat belt, blinking rapidly. “Wait…I thought you guys hated each other.”

She looks beneath her eyelashes, shrugging a bit. “It’s…well, it was complicated.”

“How?” I ask, and when she drops her head and looks out the window, I see a side of Patanza I’ve never seen before.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

Lonely. I see now that she needs a friend. She wants to talk about it.

I unclip my seatbelt, sliding to the edge of my seat. “Patanza, tell me how.”

Her eyes slide over to mine. I can tell she doesn’t want to tell me, but that she would never confess this to any of the other guards. No, she wouldn’t confess this to any man—just another woman like me, who will understand all too well. I know how it is to suppress feelings for someone I shouldn’t care about.

“Thiago wasn’t the type to settle down,” she admits. “He only came around every few months, and whenever he did, we would hook up in private. We’d meet somewhere after hours and sort of hate-fuck.” She huffs a small laugh, like she remembers something funny. In a matter of seconds, her face is serious again. “But during his recent visit, I was trying to stay away from him. I didn’t want to hook up again because every single time he had to go, we would leave on a bad note. He would tell me all these things beforehand, about how he loved me, how he needed me, how I was unlike any woman he’d ever met, but after saying all that, he would be gone the next day, with no sort of goodbye. He would just leave, and wouldn’t get in touch with me while he was away. He knew I had my own phone. Draco gave him my number every time I had to swap my phone out, just in case he needed to reach out to one of us, but he never called it. Ever.”

“Maybe he was busy,” I offer to hopefully make her feel better.

“We’re all busy,” she grumbles. She sits up in her chair, exhaling. “There was something about him returning this time, though. He wanted to meet in private a lot more. Even during the day, when he knew the other guards were watching. A few times we did things, yes, but he talked a lot more about how he wanted to get away. He talked about how he was going to complete one last shipment for Draco and then he was going to drop out and do his own thing—run his own empire. Not with drugs but, believe it or not, he wanted to open a T-shirt printing company.”

“Oh,” I breathe, smiling a little. “Wow.”

“Yeah. It’s sounds cheesy and stupid, but he was good at it. He’d made a few shirts for fundraisers in the city. For kids who were homeless. He and Jefe always gave more than they received…” She exhales. “The night before his shipment, he told me, ‘Patanza, I want you to come to America with me. We’ll live in a house on the beach in Miami. We’ll make love and fuck like we always do. We’ll get away from all of this.’” She laughs a little. “I told him he was an idiot. Jefe wasn’t just going to let me go that easily. I’m his best guard. He trusts me the most. He wouldn’t just let me run away with Thiago, plus I’d made an agreement to Draco that I would work for him and give my life for his, no matter what.”

“You deserve to be happy too, Patanza,” I say. “You work the hardest. You’re always there for Jefe. I’m sure he would have understood.”

“I obviously don’t deserve happiness.” She glares at me. “Thiago is dead now. Whatever freedom I thought I was going to get is gone. I…I wanted to run with him. I wanted to get away from all of this—killing people. Always on the run, like now. Having to watch my back because everyone knows I work for The Jefe.” Her breathing is ragged. “I just wanted a normal life for once, so I told him I would go if he told Jefe that he was taking me with him. Jefe would have been upset, but he would have let me go in the end. He’s protective, but also more lenient with me. He knows what I’ve been through in my childhood and teen years. But working for Jefe is pretty much all I’ve ever known. Truthfully, I was afraid of normal. But Thiago promised me it would be okay. He promised we would go and be happy, drink margaritas and wake up to silky sunrises.” She releases a ragged sigh.

“I’m so, so sorry, Patanza,” I whisper. “Thiago didn’t deserve it, and I feel awful about it. I know you blame me for stealing your freedom, and I’m so, so sorry, but I promise you can still get out. If you really want to get away, just tell Jefe. Tell him you want to go. He trusts you. He knows you would never give him away or rat him out.”

“No.” She sits up, shaking her head hard as she looks me deep in the eyes. “After what happened, I’m not going anywhere. I have to be here for Jefe.”

“Draco can take care of himself.”

“I have nowhere else to fucking go,” she snarls at me, picking her head up. “Plus, I have to watch his back for sneaky bitches like you.”

I sit back again, plucking lint off my dress. “I feel bad about it, Patanza. That girl was just so…cold. And then Henry.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “I just thought he was telling the truth—I thought he was an honest person. I never got the impression that he was lying, and I didn’t think he was in that deep with Yessica.”

“Yessica,” she spits. “Yessica is just a stupid fucking bitch who’s pissed at Draco because he told her he would never love her. She most likely got pissed when she heard there was a woman in Draco’s life that was being called Patrona, and she came for you. She doesn’t give a damn about No Arms. She would have left him in that cell to rot forever, but without him escaping, she never would have gotten to you. Too bad we just didn’t fucking know it.”

“I know that now. But Draco was willing to let him go too…he believed me until she—”

“Dios mío! He fucking loves you, Gia!” she barks at me, looking me hard in the eyes, and my heart pounds down in my chest. “He’s so fucking in love with you—I’ve never seen it before. But after that happened, I don’t know how he can. I mean…Thiago.” She says his name like it hurts. “Thiago was his closest relative besides his mother, and he watched him die, just like that.” She snaps her fingers. “Within the blink of an eye he was gone, and it’s all because of a mistake you made.”

We both sit in a thick, uncomfortable silence, her staring at me, me staring at her.

“He can’t love me,” I tell her. “He shouldn’t love me.”

“Well you know what?” Her tone is rhetoric as she stands up. “He does. I’m sure he wishes he didn’t, but he does. If there is one thing I know, it’s that you can’t fight love. You can’t ignore it. You can try, but it won’t work. It will only make you think about the person even more.” She walks past the second recliner, into the aisle. Her eyes don’t meet mine when she says, “We’ll be landing soon.”

She says that, and not even thirty minutes later I spot palm trees and, beyond them, a crystal clear blue ocean. Emilio returns and tells me to buckle back in. I do so, and the jet lands in a matter of minutes.

Emilio stands, reaching up to the bin across the aisle and taking down the black suitcases. When he has the handles clutched in hand, he asks me to follow him out. I follow behind him just as Patanza appears.

I notice, before I get off, that her eyes are red around the rims and puffy. She has a hat on now to shield her eyes, and immediately puts on a pair of sunglasses before getting off the jet, but I notice.

I don’t bother trying to comfort her. Instead, I follow Emilio down the stairs to the sleek, white Mercedes parked ahead. There is a driver standing beside the car. When he spots us, he opens the back door right away.

“Go ahead and get in the car, Patrona,” Emilio says over his shoulder, heading for the trunk. I climb into the backseat, and Patanza gets in behind me, avoiding my eyes.

Emilio is in the passenger seat, and the driver climbs in, smelling of way too much cologne. He pulls off when Emilio’s door is closed, driving down a long, winding road.

I have no idea where we are until we reach the end of a road and a street sign appears.

Los Cabos.

We’re in Cabos?

I look over at Patanza. She finally looks at me, pressing her lips thin. The drive continues for nearly fifteen minutes before we’re pulling into a residential area.

There is a home here, much smaller than Draco’s mansion, but still beautiful nonetheless.

It’s a wide, two-story home, made of white stucco, the shingles on the roof a bold, muddy orange. We park and step out, Emilio leading the way to the door with a set of keys. He unlocks it and lets me right in.

I step onto waxed white marble, and the scent of cinnamon and sea-salt hits me. I hear gulls calling and walk past the den and through the living room set up with plush, clean furniture. Every surface is clear of dust and lint.

Ahead of me are two open glass doors, with a deck overlooking the sea. I meet at the doors and the wind pushes my hair back, soothing my sweat-dampened skin. Down the steps is an infinity pool with not a trace or speck of dirt inside it. It’s sapphire blue, clear, rippling, just like the ocean that’s not too far beyond it. There is even a bar set up inside the pool.

It’s marvelous, and for a second I have to admit that this home is much more beautiful than his mansion. Unlike the mansion, this home has many windows, allowing the sun to stream through, highlighting the tables and white, L-shaped sofa. Unlike the mansion, this place is homey and somehow it feels secure.

Quaint.

Simple.

Comfortable.

“If you like it out here, you should see the master bedroom,” Emilio says, popping up beside me. I put on a light smile for him, turning and following him to the bedroom. Patanza is nowhere in sight now.

Emilio walks down a long hallway and then turns for the second to last door on the right. I’m in awe of the bedroom as soon as the door swings open and he places the suitcases down on the floor.

It’s massive, with a private terrace over looking the ocean too.

I take a step closer, spotting a hot tub outside the terrace, a tray set up there with bread, fruits, and even a bottle of merlot. The bed is a California king, swathed in puffy white bedding and brown pillows, a thick white headboard matching the sheets.

“I know it’s only two in the afternoon, but the fruit and merlot is for you. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you, Patrona. The kitchen is fully stocked and there is even a bar in this home and by the pool. You can call me, or you can go out and help yourself to anything.” Emilio takes a step back. “You probably want to be left alone, so I will go to my room and let you settle in.” He picks up a black device on the TV stand. “Press the green button on here when you need me.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Gracias, Emilio.”

“Por supuesto, Patrona.” Of course, Patrona.

He starts to turn, but I call for him quickly before he can get out the door.

“Si, Patrona?”

“Will…Jefe be here anytime soon?”

Emilio studies my eyes, but then pulls his gaze away. “I’m not sure when Jefe will be arriving, Patrona, but you are safer here.”

“Do you mean I’m safer away from him than with him?”

His green eyes sparkle from the sun. All he gives is a curt nod, and then he’s gone, shutting the tall brown door behind him.

I turn back around, walking to the hot tub, focused on the fruit and bread, but I don’t have the stomach to eat.

Instead, I pick up the bottle of merlot and then grab the bottle opener, popping it and pouring it into the empty glass on the tray.

There is only one glass, meaning I will probably be alone for quite sometime. I take a full sip of the merlot, and then place it down. Pulling my dress off, I toss it aside and then step into the hot tub, sinking into its warm oasis with just my panties and bra on.

I press my back against the edge of the tub, pick up my half-empty glass, and I just…breathe.

For the first time since this all began, I breathe, and then I let it all sink in.

Draco won’t be here for a while. He sent me away, probably because he couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore. I know he won’t show up anytime soon—or probably at all. I’m safe here, yes, but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do here by myself.

This home is beautiful—gorgeous really. It’s everything and more, but without him around, I may as well be back in that cell, rotting away. Alone and afraid. Worried about what’s to come, and how to handle it.

Tears sting my eyes, but I take a sip of wine to ignore the burn, looking at the ocean.

I know Patanza said he loves me, but by now he has to hate me.

I hate myself.

I stole the happiness from Patanza—a happiness that seemed so bright and freeing. I snatched it away from her, and she’ll never forgive me for it.

Because of me, Draco’s cousin and closest confidant is gone.

Because of my stupidity and self-righteousness, everything is ruined.