Chapter Two
Zahra
I was certain the man patted my chest twice.
He also did the same to my ass, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine how he squeezed a little.
I kept my eyes on him, raising a brow when he finally lifted his head to look at me. He cleared his throat and stepped back before speaking into his earpiece. “She’s clean, just a phone. I’m sending her up.”
He swiped a key card in the slot beside the elevator and I watched it slide open.
“Get in, someone will take you to him when you reach the top floor.”
Without saying a word, I stepped into the elevator, keeping my face straight as the doors closed.
I was alone.
I let out a breath, then I started coughing, covering my mouth with my hand and discreetly taking the small device from my tongue, stylishly brushing my vest, then my hair, which had grown out quite a bit. I tucked my hair behind my ear while fixing the device in my ear and clearing my throat.
“Zahra’s online.” Upper’s voice reached me first.
“Great, let’s get this show on the road,” Dog said.
“Okay, Z. I’m in position, anything goes sideways, send the signal and I’ll fall in,” Devil said, voice a little breathy.
“Hopefully nothing goes sideways. We’re just here for information, not to pick a fight,” Milk said.
“That building is armed to the teeth, and considering how wonderful all our missions have been going of late, we can’t be too sure of anything,” Upper said.
I knew it would be fine because I had it under control. The man I was going to meet was someone I’d conducted business with before I met Street. They didn’t know that, and I planned to keep it that way.
I planned to keep a lot of things in places where I could control them, namely, my past and the man who had plagued every one of my waking thoughts since we left Milan, the man who was responsible for the shit mood I’d been in since the moment I left that interrogation room and he told me we were free to go.
I shook my head, mentally erasing the thoughts of him as I stood straighter, squaring my jaw, and entering into the likeness of the Zahra I’d been before Street. I needed everything about that version of myself if I wanted to get information about the manor.
“According to your intel, Daniels should be done with his prior meetings so this is your best window to speak with him,” Milk said.
“I’m landing on zeroes, Zahra. Can’t access any live footage from beyond the elevators, so we won’t have eyes on you in there,” Upper said.
Good.
“That’s not good but you’ll be in our ears so everything should still pan out the same,” Dog said.
“Find him, charm him, get the info about the manor, and get out,” Milk said.
I looked up at the camera in the elevator to show I understood.
We’d clocked that the painting was here in Mexico, but we needed an in that wouldn’t result in innocents being caught in the crossfire, or word getting out that something suspicious was happening in the manor.
I knew the news had calmed down after the school bus disaster, and the heist going live.
Everyone knew who Arturo Garza was, so I suspected it was just a matter of time before people started to put two and two together, hence why the man who bought the manor had found it necessary to hide his name for his own safety.
The quest just got a lot deadlier, and to play a deadly game, one needed the help of deadly people. And now that we didn’t have the backing of the Marino empire, we were completely on our own.
Street didn’t know it, but I was fully responsible for them now, and I’d be damned ten times over if I let them get stuck in the crossfire of this whole shit.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid apart.
As expected, someone was there to usher me to where I’d be meeting the man whose help I needed.
Yaroslav Yegorov.
A very popular Russian transporter—smuggler—of anything. Drugs, contraband, and, most times, important people. He was also privy to high-level-clearance information, which was exactly what I wanted from him.
Street, in all their goodness, thought I was going to meet someone named Enrique Daniels, a man involved in underground real estate dealings, but it was for their safety that I hid the truth.
They didn’t need to be messing with someone like Yaroslav.
At least not when they knew absolutely nothing about my past.
The second we turned a corner of the hallway, approaching the door at the end, I turned off my comm, knowing they’d probably be freaking out, so I pulled out my phone and shot Upper a quick text.
Me:
Very armed inside. Can’t risk them finding the comm, plan still the same. Will give signal if things don’t go well.
I slipped my phone into my pocket without waiting for a response, schooling my features into a frown as the man who’d been escorting me pushed open the door and gestured for me to walk in.
I stepped into the cold office, the door shutting behind me.
My gaze was fixed on the bald man standing by the window, a familiar tatted face turning to regard me as a smile broke out on his lips, eyes shining in surprise.
“My, my, my…” he said, his accent as thick as I remembered it.
He stepped closer to me. “So is true then … you really are the one who requested an audience…”
I deepened my frown. “Why would you believe otherwise?”
“Why, because…” He walked behind the desk to take his seat, gesturing for me to do the same. “I know you never do business in person, you see … unless is important.”
I took the seat opposite him. “You hear correctly. I need some information I think you ha—”
“Straight to the point?” he asked, relaxing in his seat. “That’s not fair. I hear you disappeared from Sicily … If my source is right, this is the first time anyone has seen you in what, six years? Seven?”
I locked my jaw. “I don’t see how that concerns you, Yaroslav.”
“No?”
“No.”
He sighed, raising his hand in surrender. “You don’t want to chat.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine.” He blew out a breath. “Tell me how you found me. I only arrived in Mexico three days ago.”
I got comfortable, smiling. “You know I have my own sources, Yaroslav. I might have left Sicily, but the city did not leave me.”
Amusement filled his dull blue eyes. “Ah, I see,” he said, then sat up. “I have other business to attend to. Tell me what you think I can do for you.”
I didn’t need to beat around the bush with this. The faster I was out of here, the less damage control I had to take care of. “Are you familiar with the name Arturo Garza?”
Recognition flashed in his eyes, followed by a sigh. “Yes, I am, and no, I don’t know where the painting is. Is that all?”
Shit. Of course several others had gotten to him about this.
We really didn’t have much time.
“I’m not here about the painting,” I said, which had the man frowning. “I’m here about the manor.”
His brows shot up. “Ah…”
“Yes. I heard there was a sale recently … I need to know who the buyer was.”
He watched me for a few seconds before asking, “What makes you think I’d know?”
“Because you wouldn’t have asked me that question if you didn’t know anything.”
His lips tugged up at one corner. “Well, I don’t know the name of the person who bought the manor, but I know the name of the man who was in charge of the manor prior to the sale. I also know that he’ll be coming to Mexico next week to finalize things with the anonymous buyer.”
I nodded. “What’s the name of the man in charge?”
Yaroslav’s smile widened. “Do you think I’ll just hand you that information for free? Come on, Faizan.”
I ground my teeth, glaring at him. “What do you want? Money?”
He rolled his eyes. “Please, don’t insult me.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it, keeping my eyes on Yaroslav. “Then tell me what you want and I’ll have it delivered.”
“No need for the trouble. I need intel. An address.”
I blinked. “For who?”
“E2. You’ve heard of the assassin, yes?”
I frowned, recognizing the name, having heard it from Manuel several times.
Even I have been in close contact with that name.
E2 was a private, faceless assassin who worked jobs for people in the Mafia, or cartel lords who wanted to get a job done, clean, smooth, and quiet.
E2 was also the best assassin in the underground business for three reasons.
One, they were efficient and always got the job done without mistakes; two, nobody knew who they were, if they were male or female; and three, because you cannot find a killer that doesn’t exist.
E2 came at a very high price, meaning you would have to be ready to pay for them to get the job done. Sometimes, the pay wasn’t money; it was information. Valuable information that made it difficult for them to be targeted or even traced.
“I have heard of them, yes,” I said.
“Good. I have been trying to get ahold of the assassin for years, but is like they dropped off the face of the earth. I know you have done business with them in the past; do you know where to find them now?”
I shook my head. “No. When I hired the assassin we didn’t talk long enough to help me determine their whereabouts. When they got my job done, I never heard from them again.”
Yaroslav deflated. “I suspected as much … Maybe you can help me with something else then?”
“I—”
“There’s someone I need you to meet. I owe her a favor and she’s cashing it in by wanting to meet you.”
This got my attention. “Who?”
Yaroslav pulled out a small card and a pen, quickly scribbling something on the card.
“Kareem Fadel.”
“What?”
“The man in charge of the manor, Kareem Fadel,” he said, slipping the card toward me. “Go to that address tonight at nine o’clock. You’ll find the woman who wants to meet with you. She’ll also have some intel on this Kareem fellow.”
I watched him carefully. “Are you playing a game, Yaroslav? I’m pretty sure you know better than to mess with me.”
“That I do, is why the intel she has on Kareem is another small favor I owe her.” His lips curled. “You’re welcome.”
I didn’t take my eyes off him as I got to my feet, swiping the card from the table. “If I find out this is a trap, you won’t live to see ten o’clock.”
He scoffed. “Always with the threats, this one. Is why is never a pleasure doing business with you, Faizan.”
Ignoring his comment, I turned away from him and walked out of the office, wondering who the hell this woman was, and why she wanted to see me.
My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it out, checking the text I’d received.
Upper:
Um … Zahra? Why the fuck did my system just log a facial-recognition hit on Enrique Daniels currently stepping out of a hotel in North Macedonia?
Shit.
Upper:
Who the hell are you meeting?
For fuck’s sake.
I started typing the lie as my brain spat it at me. Sending it quickly.
Me:
I was shocked too. He sent his associate, I guess. I’m out though, and I’ve got a name. Kareem Fadel. Run it through ur systems. Be with u soon.