10. Cruz
CRUZ
I sit in the lounge outside Vega’s inner office. The room is all marble and dark glass, very luxurious. Low leather chairs. A bar cart stocked with liquor no one touches unless invited. Floor-to-ceiling windows that don’t open.
He’s keeping me waiting.
It’s a favorite tactic of his, to give me the message that I’d better never forget who’s in control.
Fine.
The door down the hall opens. I don’t have to look up to know who it is.
Zabala.
I feel him before I see him. That oily presence. That swagger that comes from knowing he can do whatever the hell he wants.
I still don’t look at him right away. I let him come to me. Let him think I’m not paying attention.
“Moreno,” he says. “Didn’t know you were back from your little errand.”
Now I look.
He’s grinning like he just walked out of something he enjoyed a little too much.
“What have you been up to?” I ask evenly.
He smiles, that sleazy grin I’ve come to hate. “Just finished with our new guest.”
I swallow down nausea.
Robin.
What did he do to her?
Zabala has a reputation of “handling” prisoners in ways that go beyond orders. I’ve warned him before. More than once. He doesn’t care. The only way to stop a man like him is to put him in the ground.
And I can’t do that. Not yet, anyway. He’s loyal to Vega, and I… I owe him. He got me a passport a few years ago so I could see Maria Delgado in Brazil.
I lean forward. “You weren’t assigned to her.”
He shrugs, careless. “You weren’t here.”
“I am now.”
“But you weren’t an hour ago. Someone had to give her food.”
I hold his gaze. “That’s my responsibility.”
“Relax.” He lets out a short laugh. “I was just going above and beyond.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Yeah?” I ask. “And how did that go?”
He starts giggling.
A grown man—one who is known for his cruelty—is seriously giggling.
The sound grates on my nerves.
“You should’ve seen her,” he says. “All proud when I walked in. Like she thought she still had some dignity left.”
I go rigid. “What did you do, Zabala?”
He tilts his head. “I helped her adjust. Told her to eat.”
“And?”
He leans closer, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a joke. “She didn’t want to. So I made it easier for her.”
I don’t ask how. Part of me doesn’t want to know what he did. Whatever it was, I want to break his face.
Right here. Right now.
I force myself to breathe.
In.
Out.
I can’t afford to lose control. Not here. Not in front of him.
I sit back slowly as if none of this matters. “Funny,” I say.
“It was,” he agrees.
I stare at him. “Is that all you did?”
“No,” he says. “Figured I’d make sure she understood her situation.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “How?”
“Got a few squeezes in.”
My vision goes red.
My body moves before I can fully think it through. My shoulders tighten as I shift my weight forward, closing my hands into fists.
I’m going to hit him.
I don’t care what it costs.
I don’t care who sees.
I don’t—
“Gentlemen.”
Fuck. Adriana’s voice.
I unclench my fists.
Zabala straightens.
I turn.
Adriana de la Fuente stands at the end of the hall, one hand resting lightly against the doorframe. Impeccable as always. Dark hair pulled back. Tailored dress that looks effortless and costs more than most people make in a year.
She looks at Zabala. Then at me. Back at Zabala.
“Senor Moreno,” she says, her tone measured. “Senor Vega is indisposed this morning. You’ll be meeting with me instead.”
“No problem,” I say.
Adriana nods once. “Walk with me.”
I stand. I don’t look at Zabala again as I follow her down the hall to her office. But I feel his eyes on my back. Zabala doesn’t miss much. He’s cruel and observant. What he lacks in intelligence he makes up for in instinct.
Adriana’s office is elegant of course. She gestures for me to sit. I take the chair across from her desk.
She doesn’t sit right away. Instead, she moves behind the desk, resting her hands against the edge. “So what do you think of our guest?”
Robin.
An image flashes in my mind. Robin on the floor, Zabala looming over her…
I push it down.
“She’s strong,” I say. “Defiant. But not reckless.”
Adriana tilts her head. “Go on.”
“She understands risk,” I continue. “She pushes, but she’s calculating. She knows when to stop.”
“And?”
“She wants to go home,” I say. “She’ll cooperate if she believes it gets her there.”
Adriana’s lips curve. “Cooperation isn’t enough.”
I hold her gaze. “What are you looking for?”
“We need more than her compliance,” she says. “We need the Bellamy family’s cooperation.”
I lean back slightly. “You think they won’t cooperate?”
“I think they will,” she says. “But not to the extent we require. Not without encouragement.”
I swallow another lump in my throat.
“Senor Vega is attempting to navigate a very delicate situation,” she continues. “He has certain information about Austin Bellamy.”
I nod. I know that part.
“Unfortunately,” she adds, “Mr. Bellamy is currently unavailable.”
“Right. He’s in the hospital.”
“Correct. And he’s incapacitated, which complicates negotiations.”
“So you want leverage,” I say.
“Yes.”
I already know where this is going. I just don’t want to hear her say it.
“The most effective way,” she continues, “to ensure compliance from her brothers is to make the consequences…visible.”
I don’t speak.
“Pain,” Adriana says softly, “is a very persuasive language.”
I sit still. “There are other ways.”
“Are there?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. “We can control communication. Isolate. Create pressure without physical damage. Make them think she’s worse off than she is—”
“No.”
The word punches me in the gut.
“They need to see it,” Adriana says. “Fear is most effective when it is undeniable.”
My stomach churns. “You’re talking about beating her.”
“I am,” she replies.
“Badly.”
“Yes.”
I exhale slowly, trying to keep calm. “They’ll react either way. You don’t need to cross that line.”
She stares into my eyes for a moment. “Your concern is interesting.”
“It’s practical,” I say. “Damage like that can complicate things.”
“Or accelerate results.”
I try one more time. “Why this? Why now? Vega doesn’t need ransom money.”
Adriana smiles. “This isn’t about money.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Something far more important.”
“And what’s that?”
No response. Not that I expected one. I’m pretty much kept on a need-to-know basis.
“There has to be another way,” I say again.
“No. She must be broken. Visibly.”
I clamp my hands around the arms of my chair.
“And her brothers,” she continues, “will do exactly what we want them to do.”
I don’t move.
I don’t speak.
I just sit there, feeling heat building inside me.
Adriana straightens. “And you,” she says, “will be the one to do it.”
What? Did I mishear her? I don’t hit women. I vowed never to do that when I saw a john beat my mother when I was a kid and I was too small to stop it.
“I’m sorry?” I say.
“You heard me.”
I stare at her.
“This requires precision,” she says. “Control. Not enthusiasm.”
Not Zabala, is what she’s really saying. He’d be too excited. He’d go too far.
“You are best suited for this,” she continues. “You understand limits. You know how to inflict damage without compromising the asset.”
The asset? She’s a person. A living, breathing human being.
But of course Adriana doesn’t think of her this way. Neither does Vega.
My pulse is pounding. “You seriously want me to beat her.”
“Yes.”
My mind flashes—
Robin’s eyes.
Beautiful. Sharp. Alive.
Something twists hard in my chest.
“There are other men—”
“No.”
“I don’t think I’m—”
“This comes directly from Senor Vega. He trusts you.”
I almost laugh.
Trust?
Vega doesn’t trust anyone.
“Is there a problem, Senor Moreno?”
Yes.
A massive one.
“No,” I say, making sure the word sounds nonchalant.
Adriana nods. “Good. You’ll begin this afternoon.”