Chapter 28 Cortez
Chapter twenty-eight
Cortez
I sit in silence, letting the unyielding hands of the clock tick me into oblivion. Yet the thoughts creep in like a shadow, thick and overwhelming. There are other important things going on in the mafia—things I should be focused on, but all I think about is her.
My fingers curl into a tight fist. Even the strongest whiskey can’t erase the emotions churning in my gut.
She escaped!
Stole guns, cash, and a phone from my drawer. She tricked me…diverted my men’s attention to a non-existent place on the outskirts of the city. She tricked me into believing that her cause for wanting my loyalty was a good one.
Anger rises in my chest as I stare at my drawer, a daunting reminder of my foolishness. It’s gone. All of it. Her. Fuck!
My hand crashes against the desk, slamming it with such brute force that I see a dent. But it’s not enough. My fingers are burning with rage and regret. My knuckles itch to wreak havoc, to channel the bleeding that festers in my chest.
A feral growl escapes me, and as I walk to a side of the wall, I ram my hand into it. Again. Again. And again. Until all I see is a sunken hole and blood staining my knuckles.
I fucked up. It’s my own damn fault.
How could I trample all over my principles? How could I fall for a woman after all? And then, be foolish enough to believe in her illusion of loyalty.
I bought into her lie. I let myself get carried away with fleeting moments of sex. I let her in. I let her get close. Far too close.
Now she’s gone. Like everything else. Like Mallory.
Yet, some part of me—the rational part—wills me to be logical. She couldn’t have left knowing full well Los Hierros and Ramirez are still out there prancing—waiting for her to make one wrong move. She wouldn’t have risked her life twice just to escape now.
Perhaps I should allow her a chance to redeem herself. I pause, inhaling a sharp breath at the word. It tastes bitter on my lips.
Chance…The same reason I’m in this mess. The same reason a woman left me a fucking bait and escaped right under my nose.
I run a hand down my face, scrubbing harshly at the skin. Then suddenly the anger dies, giving way to the one emotion swirling in the depths of my guts. Hurt.
She manipulated the one weakness I gave her. Trust.
Now I’m left with the realization of my foolishness. I’m left to relive the same feeling of betrayal when Mallory walked out of my life.
As I stare blankly into the air, my resolve hardens. Regardless of the reason she left, she’s a traitor. Moving swiftly, I tug my laptop closer, opening the lid and navigating to the document.
I click the file open, my breath straining as the disavowal draft slides into view. I had it prepared by my team of lawyers the moment they created the engagement agreement. It was leverage I didn’t think I’d need this early.
By mutual agreement, the union between Cortez Donatelli and Selene Vasquez is hereby dissolved. She will no longer be under my protection or affiliated to me in any way…
Not bothering to read to the end, I let my eyes fall to the space below: Date and sign.
Once I sign this and send it to my media team, they’ll publish it. Every single person in New York will see it, including her enemies. It would make her vulnerable.
My heart skips at the thought, but there’s no mercy for a traitor.
My fingers feel heavy as I type today’s date and sign in the allotted space. Now all I have to do is press send.
I hesitate.
I can’t, at least not like this.
Slamming the laptop shut, my hands find my hair. Fuck.
Choosing not to dwell on the confusion in my mind, I grab the telephone and dial Alej.
“My office. Now.”
The box and the letter the boy had brought sits on a corner of my desk. The blood is now dried and dark.
04.23.2014. The date is evidently plastered on the flap of the letter. That’s the date I killed Damien.
And the content of the letter: Find me, or watch your empire rot from the inside out.
This is no doubt from Damien’s brother, Nero. It’s clear that he’s part of this organization and has come back for revenge. But why go through the undercutting to get at me? Why take the long route?
There’s still a void. It all doesn’t add up…and something tells me I need to get just one last piece of the puzzle to see what this Reform is up to.
The door to my office clicks open, and Alej walks in.
“Have you found her?” I ask, though I know how things stand at the moment.
“Not yet, Boss.”
She left her phone, which has a tracker embedded in it. That was how we found her the first time she escaped to El Callejón.
But this time she was meticulous, intentional. Purposely…to avoid being traced.
“Since she left her phone and took another burner without a tracker, it’d be difficult to trace her.” His words come out slowly…carefully, as if he’s wary that I’ll explode.
I inhale sharply. Of course, he can fucking see how distraught I am.
“But the men and I are on it. We’ll find her, Capo.”
He eyes my face, and I feel the words lingering on his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything.
“The tracker we put on the boy has led nowhere. He’s our only lead in finding Nero,” he continues. “He’s not doing things beyond school, home, and his friends. He hasn’t visited any unorthodox places either. Our men on site have confirmed that.”
After the boy delivered the letter, we questioned him, but he didn’t seem to know a thing. He said the man had a nose mask and a baseball cap on and had cornered him somewhere near the school block, asking him to come here.
“Preparations to rebuild the damaged parts of the casino are already underway,” Alej’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I ball my hands into fists.
Los Hierros attacked again. When I received the call—while Selene was lying to me—Alej informed me that Los Hierros was attacking.
They’d just blown a part of the casino up.
But this time, they didn’t get away with it. I made sure every one of their men ended up dead.
Nodding at Alej, I train my eyes on the box with the bloody message. We have to find Nero fast.
Fuck! I’m sick of this mess.