The sky is dark, the jet landing on a quiet strip.

Draco unbuckles his seatbelt and pushes to a stand, glancing sideways at me as he picks up an AK-47, strapping it around him. Patanza and Emilio follow suit, as well as Clark, who gives his gun an aggressive kiss before holding it close.

“Keep me safe, motherfucker,” Clark says, clutching his gun.

I stand last, my guns already in holsters and strapped to me. We all have bulletproof vests on, but even so, I still feel exposed.

Emilio steps toward the exit of the jet, and when Draco bobs his head, he pushes the door open. As soon as he does, I see a man standing at the bottom of the staircase.

He’s a buff man with a bald head, guns strapped around him. With his nod of respect, I assume he’s one of Draco’s men.

Draco asks him something when he meets up to him, and the man turns around, speaking rapidly and hustling at his side. More men appear from parked cars as we march, following in line.

“You good?” Clark asks, stepping up to my side and walking with me.

I glance over at him before putting my focus ahead, on the man I’m doing this for.

I’m risking my entire life. My future. For all we know, Yessica knows we’re on the way and will end us before we even begin.

She’s not stupid. If she learned from the best, she’s going to take caution. Right?

“You’re nervous for him,” Clark mumbles.

“A little.”

“No need to be,” Patanza says, meeting on the other side of me. “Jefe has gone to war many times before. She isn’t the first he’s had to settle the score with.” Patanza pauses, focusing on her boss with furrowed brows. “But she is the first puta to make him work this hard just to find her. I fear for her, because when he gets to her, he won’t be lenient. Not even for a second.”

Oh, I know he won’t.

I know once he gets a hold of her, his wrath will be hard to witness. A part of me feels bad for her—for what she’ll go through—but a part of me can’t wait to see what he does.

We meet up to three different BMWs: one black, one silver, and the other white. Draco takes the white one, flicking his fingers at me to hurry. Patanza and Clark jump into the backseat of the silver car and Emilio and the new guard take the black one, Emilio climbing into the passenger seat. We follow the black BMW, and the driver of our car clears his throat.

“She deserves every bit of punishment you give her, Jefe,” he says.

Draco doesn’t even look at him. He’s been so far gone and way too focused ever since landing, ready to claim his deadly prize.

The cars drive for some time—nearly thirty minutes—before we slow down, parking in front of a tall building. The windows are tinted black, shining from gold garden lights. We step out of the car, and it’s quiet. Too quiet. The wind doesn’t even blow. The air is stiff and hot, but I can smell the sea—the thick scent of salt.

Clark meets at my side, taking note of his surroundings with his finger on his trigger. Draco follows one of the drivers to the building. We don’t hesitate on following him. I draw my gun from the holster in my waist—Daddy’s pistol—and study the building. It’s clean.

Shiny.

The offices are full of desks, computers, and stacks of paper. We pass by many cubicles. The only thing I can hear is the pounding of our boots on the linoleum.

The leading guard continues until he reaches a door with a SALIDA sign above it. He shoves it open, and we’re in a dark, dank room. Another door appears, and he pushes it open as well.

This door leads to a staircase. We take the stairs down, everyone hustling, still not speaking.

My heart is rattling in my chest now, my adrenaline increasing by the second. My body wants to shake and throb. I want to be terrified, but I can’t be.

There is a task to complete.

This task won’t be over until we get to her.

After hustling down the stairs, we walk through a long underground tunnel. I keep my eyes on Draco, who hasn’t bothered to look back or even around him.

Finally, after two minutes of walking, a ladder appears. The guard takes the ladder up, telling Jefe to wait just a moment. He props the square, brown door above open and takes a look out.

He then looks down, nodding with approval.

Draco takes the steps up. He’s out in no time, and Patanza and Emilio follow suit. Clark looks at me, shrugging lightly before following too.

I take the stairs next, two of the guards still behind me. A hand comes in plain view, tan and large.

I grab it, and I’m hauled up rapidly, clashing softly into a broad, strong chest. It makes me slightly dizzy.

My breathing falters as I peer up into Draco’s eyes. His head is tilted, his eyes remorseful, like something is wrong.

“What?” I ask. “What is it?”

“This is as far as you will go, Gianna. Clark will stay back with you. He’s already agreed to.”

I frown. “What?” I look at my surroundings. Ahead of us is very tall grass, and beyond it are docked boats in a small marina. Wet cement and wooden boards lead to each boat.

From where we stand, no one can really see us. We’re beneath the roof of a broken down shack, hidden between shadows, the moonlight not even touching us.

“Do not argue with me, Gianna,” he mumbles when a set of new men walk past him, loading up their guns, slamming bullets into chambers and gripping their Glocks. There are ten of us now.

Patanza and Clark stand at the edge of the roof, glancing back at me once before pulling away.

“You will stay here, keep watch. You see anyone or anything, you shoot and then you run.”

“Draco, no. I can’t just stand here. I want to be out there—I want to help you,” I plead.

“I know you do but I can’t risk it, Gianna. As soon as we walk past this field and to the marina, it will become dangerous. I can’t promise to watch your back as well as my own. I need you here, where it’s safe. You can still fight from here. If any shit goes down, put those guns to use. Don’t hesitate. But don’t come out and try to help. You hear me?” He grips my face between his fingers, breathing heavier now, eyes boring into mine. “Do not come for me, Gianna. You fucking run if you see or hear anything wrong, and you don’t look back. Do you understand?”

“Draco.” I grip his forearm.

“I need you to understand.”

“Please,” I whisper, the rims of my eyes burning now.

“Stay. For once, reina,” his head shakes, eyes sealing, “fucking listen to me, and stay.” When he opens his eyes again, they’re glistening, cloudy with emotion.

My chest tightens, throat thickening with the same emotion. My grip slacks around his wrist. I lower my arm, keeping my head high, and finally nodding.

He needs me to stay. He wants to keep me safe. He wants this. More than anything right now. Honestly, he may be right.

“Fine.” I whisper. “I’ll stay.”

“Bueno.” He steps forward, gripping my chin. His lips fall down on my forehead, a soft, damp, warm kiss. And then his lips are on top of mine.

The kiss deepens, his other hand cupping the back of my neck. He kisses me hard and rough. It’s both demanding and empowering. I kiss him back, clutching him tight around the neck, breathing raggedly when our lips are forced apart by a guard’s whispered warning that they have to get moving.

Draco drops his hands, but his eyes don’t pull from mine. He takes several steps away, holding my gaze. The rims of my eyes are wet and hot. He tears away before I can, turning and marching after one of the guards.

“Protect yourself, Patrona,” Emilio says, eyes stern, serious. He leaves too.

Patanza follows Emilio’s lead, glancing back at me and then at Clark, nodding once at him. They all disappear in the depths of the tall grass, and I squeeze the handle of my gun until it hurts.

“Let him handle this,” Clark mumbles, stepping to my side. “He’s keeping you safe.”

I know he is, but . . .

“I’ve heard so many horror stories about that man. They made it seem like he had no heart—no soul. That he was the boogey man of the cartel world. But when I see him look at you—touch you—well, shit.” He huffs. “There has to be a heart in there somewhere.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, voice low. Soft.

“He looks at you like he would die for you, Gia. He holds you like he never wants to let you go. He kisses you like you mean everything to him.” He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I see why he was so lenient with you when he sent you away. Now…I get it. He’s in fucking love with you and that motherfucker is in deep.”