6. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Present Day
I t was late by the time Ramiro got home. Calling the rich, residential neighborhood “home” still didn’t feel right. Before his fancy suits, and fancier cars, someone like him wouldn’t have been welcome there. Now he had the money to belong, or at least to seem like he belonged.
He’d purchased the house that Summer had wandered around in with a look of awe. She’d loved the sunken living room and the open kitchen. She’d also walked into the largest bedroom’s closet and rocked up and down on her toes at the thought of how many dresses would fit inside. They still could. His suits only took up a portion of the space.
Ramiro had asked her to help decorate the house. Summer had a knack for creating appealing spaces. She’d chosen warm, rich colors and high-end furniture that was more for comfort than show. Between the throw blanket and rugs and curtains, everything didn’t exactly match, but the colors flowed together like they belonged.
Most of the house remained unlived in. Ramiro only spent time in the office and in his bedroom. His home office was a disaster. Used coffee mugs and plates, discarded clothing that needed dry cleaning, and abandoned electronics his men raved about—Ramiro didn’t even know what half of them did—all cluttered the space.
He settled into the chair that perfectly supported his back. Summer chose a new chair for him at the main office last year, so he’d doubled the order. She understood his needs better than he did.
Ramiro pulled out his phone. Summer hadn’t called or texted, so staying with the boyfriend must have worked out. He scowled at the thought but reminded himself not to be an asshole about it. It was good that she was more comfortable dating.
He spotted the earlier text from Diego asking for intel, only then remembering that he’d never sent it on to his hacker. Leo Hayes was still one of his best assets, even so many years later. He remained mostly invisible and never helped with things like cleanup, but that type of thing wasn’t his skill set. Hayes dug up any information Ramiro needed, and a lot he never thought to ask for.
After forwarding the text, Ramiro’s thumb hovered over the flower icon on his phone. Sighing, he clicked on it, pulling up the video feed of Summer’s apartment .
Diego set up the cameras back when he was still perfecting his craft, so the cameras weren’t the best, but Ramiro hesitated over having them upgraded. Then Diego might remember putting them in and rag him about his secretary even more. He only knew her as his secretary, not a girl Ramiro took in back before he’d spun off from the Zeta syndicate, and Ramiro wanted it to remain that way.
Of course, sending Diego to follow Summer home might have nudged his memory. Ramiro hoped the one-off job so long ago had been too minor for his friend to remember.
He flipped through the cameras, relieved to find the apartment empty. He wouldn’t have put it past Summer to not reach out for help if the date fell through, but she also wouldn’t ignore his order when it was about her safety. She took his orders seriously, not out of any concern for herself, but because she wouldn’t want him to worry more.
No one had broken in either, so maybe Ramiro’s suspicions were wrong and she’d just been a convenient target back at the office today. The thought didn’t make him feel any better.
His newest asset, Sebastian Guzman, hadn’t recognized the dead man. He’d been the one Ramiro called in to help with cleanup, hoping he’d have some insight. Seb should know, since he’d been part of the cartel for a while, but then again, his loyalty had yet to be tested. He’d burned his relationship with the cartel, so he hadn’t had a lot of choices besides Ramiro. Loyalty didn’t count for much if there was no choice .
Ramiro only had the dead man’s comment that the Guzmans sent him to go on. He would need to send another message to the current Guzman in charge. Even the possibility of Summer’s safety being at risk wasn’t acceptable.
He stared at the image of Summer’s empty bedroom as he considered his options. The inner voice urging him to push her toward another career path, one not linked to him, made his hands clench on the phone.
A text window popped up, taking over his screen.
‘Stop creeping on your secretary.’
Ramiro scrubbed his hand over his face with a groan. “Fuck off, Hayes,” he said aloud, never sure whether Hayes was listening in as well. He didn’t put much past the man.
‘She’s not even there.’
Ramiro tapped on the text window. ‘I sent you a job. You shouldn’t be this bored.’
‘I’m not the one spying on an empty room.’
Ramiro flushed.
‘Intel job is done. I saw the text before you forwarded it.’
Ramiro sighed, tugging on his beard in annoyance. ‘I asked you not to read my texts.’
‘It’s more efficient. I can pretend not to if that’s better.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘That’s not nice.’
Ramiro snorted. Hayes had no boundaries, and instilling any was a waste of energy, but Ramiro kept trying anyway.
‘Just for that, I’ll wait and send you your gift in the morning. ’
Ramiro’s curiosity stirred. Hayes might be an asshole, but he was a skilled asshole.
‘Cartel intel?’ Ramiro asked.
‘Wait and see. Get some sleep.’
The chat window disappeared as if it’d never existed.
Ramiro was left looking at an image of an empty bedroom. Summer’s bedroom featured in his recurring dreams. He’d known it would ruin him if he allowed himself to touch her, even just the once, but he hadn’t been able to resist, not when it was everything he wanted.