Chapter 50
Claire’s POV
Valeria didn’t ask questions.
She didn’t yell, or tell me I was out of my mind, or demand details.
She just said, “Send me the location. I’ll bring who I trust. Be there in twenty.”
I ended the call and turned back to Miguel.
“Back up is coming.”
He gave a tight nod, already turning to the others. “You heard her. Group one, with me—we hit Leo’s crew. Group two, with Claire. No mistakes. No noise. No mercy.”
Weapons were checked. Vests tightened. It was quiet—too quiet—but efficient. These men weren’t nervous. They were Vera’s. Even if they followed me now, they were still shaped by her ruthlessness.
And they were about to show Antonio exactly what that legacy looked like.
I loaded my gun with hands that didn’t shake.
The car rolled up with a low growl of tires over gravel.
I straightened.
The warehouse fell silent as the door swung open.
She stepped in like she owned the place—boots heavy, face unreadable, eyes scanning the room like she was assessing threats, not allies.
I moved to meet her halfway, but the moment she crossed the threshold, Miguel’s hand went to his waistband.
“Who the hell is that?” he snapped, voice sharp.
I lifted a hand. “She’s with me.”
Miguel didn’t lower his hand. “Didn’t ask that.”
“She’s Vera’s sister.”
That stopped everything.
A few of the men froze mid-step.
Someone near the back scoffed. “Jefa didn’t have a sister.”
“She did,” I said, stepping forward. “They were separated when they were kids. Vera found her again last year.”
Another voice cut in—skeptical. “She looks familiar.”
“She should,” I said firmly. “Same fire. Same mouth. Same fight.”
Miguel’s eyes narrowed. “Why haven’t we ever seen her?”
“Because she didn’t belong to your world,” I said. “She ran her own.”
“Then what’s she doing in ours?”
I clenched my jaw. “Saving Vera. With me.”
“Hold up,” one of the crew barked, stepping forward. “I’ve seen her before. That’s—”
“Alacrán,” someone hissed. “She’s Leo’s.”
The energy shifted.
Half the room bristled. Hands drifted toward holsters.
“She was Leo’s second,” someone growled. “And you brought her here?”
“She’s not his,” I snapped. “Not anymore.”
“You expect us to believe that?” Miguel barked, stepping forward. “You drag in Alacrán—Leo’s fucking phantom—and suddenly we’re just supposed to trust her?”
The heat rose in my throat. My voice came out low, but firm.
“You pledged loyalty to me—and you’ll listen. She’s no longer Alacrán. She’s Valeria. Jefa’s sister. My sister. My family.”
Miguel’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “Claire…”
“Miguel.” I stepped forward, heart hammering, voice steady even though I was trembling inside. “Stand down.”
The air was thick. One wrong word and it would break.
Then—
Valeria stepped in.
Her eyes swept the room once. Twice. No fear. No hesitation.
She walked straight to me, slow and deliberate, and stopped at my side.
The silence tightened.
“Anyone got something to say?” she said coldly, her tone like ice over glass. “Say it now—while you still have your jaw.”
No one moved.
She turned to Miguel, eyes locked, voice lethal. “Leo’s dead. Dominic’s dead. I killed one. Claire killed the other. I have her back—and if this bullshit continues, I’ll consider every one of you her enemy.”
Her hand moved to her gun.
The ten men who came with her mirrored the motion instantly—flanking her like a silent warning.
Miguel stared her down—tense, unreadable.
Then his hand slowly dropped from his holster.
He gave a nod.
Valeria didn’t smile. She just said, voice low, “We good?”
He didn’t answer. But he didn’t object.
That was enough.
I let out a slow breath.
Valeria looked at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “You always make friends this easy?”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
But there was too much left to do.
And Vera was waiting.
As the crew started loading weapons and splitting off into their teams, I turned to Valeria.
“You take the first group, Miguel will join me.” I said. “Hit Leo’s old crew. Hard.”
Valeria blinked. “No. I’m not leaving your side.”
“I need you to,” I said, voice firm but calm. “If I’m right, the security where Vera is? It’ll be almost nothing. Antonio wouldn’t trust anyone with that secret. He’d keep it close. Too close.”
Her jaw clenched.
“The real threat,” I continued, “is Leo’s men. They’re what keeps him safe. They’re the ones who’ll come running if we don’t cut them off first.”
Valeria was quiet, her eyes locked on mine.
“You know I’m right,” I said.
She sighed, reluctantly. “Yeah… I do. Still doesn’t mean I like it.”
I stepped in closer. “Then finish them quickly.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Finish them and follow me,” I added.
That made her smile, a sharp little twist at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, boss.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “You’re such a pain.”
“And you’re dramatic,” she shot back.
Just before we moved, she reached forward and pulled me into a hug—tight, fast, and completely unexpected.
I froze for a second, arms half-raised like I didn’t know what to do with them.
Then I returned the hug, letting my forehead rest briefly on her shoulder.
“Don’t die,” she murmured in my ear.
I pulled back slightly, looking at her like she’d grown another head. “Was that… affection?”
She rolled her eyes.
“I knew you cared about me,” I teased.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she placed her forehead against mine—not gentle, not intimate, but solid. Grounded. Like a mark of loyalty between soldiers.
“Eres mi familia,” she said.
You are my family.
I blinked, throat suddenly tight.
A quiet smile tugged at my lips. “And you’re mine.”
She stepped back, cleared her throat, then turned to her team like nothing had happened.
And I turned toward the direction where Vera was waiting—alive, alone, and counting on me.
Let them come.
We were ready.
The road ahead was dark, the trees crowding in like shadows that knew what I was driving toward. The headlights cut through mist, and every bump in the road rattled deeper than the tires—straight into my chest.
My leg bounced.
The gun sat heavy against my side, Vera’s jacket snug across my shoulders like armor. Her scent was mostly gone now, replaced by smoke and leather and the cold sweat clinging to my skin.
We were ten minutes out.
Then the radio crackled.
“Claire,” Valeria’s voice came through, low and clipped. “We’re in position.”
I grabbed the receiver, pressing the button fast. “Did they see you?”
“No. They’re scattered. Unarmed. Playing cards, for fuck’s sake. We’ll sweep clean.”
I stared ahead, eyes locked on the road, heart beating just under my ribs.
“Good,” I muttered. “Because when I come out with Vera, I want you waiting outside.”
Valeria didn’t respond immediately.
“Say it, Val.”
“I’ll be there.”
I nodded once, swallowing hard.
Then I hesitated.
“Valeria…” My voice dropped. “If you find Antonio before I do—”
I paused. The words stuck in my throat.
“I want him alive.”
There was a silence on the line.
Long enough that I almost repeated myself.
Then her voice came back, quieter. Tighter. “You sure about that?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But I need to look him in the eye when I end this. I need him to know it was me.”
Another beat.
“Understood.”
“Promise me.”
“I said I understand, Claire.”
“That’s not the same.”
Her sigh broke through the static. “Fine. I promise.”
I let the silence settle for a second.
“Good,” I whispered. “Because if Vera’s really in there… he’s not dying easy.”
The comm went dead.
I sat back in my seat, gripping the door handle until my knuckles went white.
We were getting close.
Too close for fear now.
Let them try to stop me.
Let Antonio pray I didn’t find her broken.
Because if I did—no promise would matter.
Vera’s POV
I think I’m dreaming.
Or maybe I’m dying.
It’s hard to tell the difference anymore.
The walls blur. My body aches. I can’t feel where the pain ends and I begin. Everything’s slow—dripping, sinking, cracking from the inside out.
But in the silence, I hear her.
Not her voice.
Her name.
Claire.
I say it aloud.
It comes out broken.
Soft.
Like a prayer I don’t deserve.
My lips are dry. My throat burns. But I say it again, even if no one hears.
“Claire…”
Because if I stop saying her name—
I might forget what hope feels like.
And that’s the only thing I still have left.