“You think I’m scared of them?” he says.
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
Silence stretches between us.
Rico steps closer, lowering his voice like we’re sharing a secret.
“I need protection.”
I blink. “What?”
“I need leverage,” he corrects. “You’re close to him. Closer than anyone.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His gaze darkens as he studies my face like he’s looking for a crack to pry open.
“I’ve seen the pictures,” he says. “The yacht. The helicopter.”
My stomach drops.
Pictures.
That wasn’t random.
That was eyes.
That was money.
And I know exactly the kind of woman who buys eyes. Carmen.
My throat tightens. “You’ve been watching me?”
“Everyone’s watching you,” he replies. “You’re the only thing that rattles Diablo.”
The words sink slowly into my chest, cold and heavy.
“He sends you gifts,” Rico continues, pacing the cramped kitchen. “He shows up on a bike like some telenovela hero. He punches waiters for looking at you.”
“He always had a temper,” I say, and my voice sounds far away.
“And you always had power over him.”
My skin prickles.
“I need dirt,” Rico says suddenly. “He has enemies.”
I stare at him. “What kind of dirt?”
“Information,” he says. “Where he keeps his cash. Who he meets with. What deals he’s making.”
“You want me to spy.”
“I want you to survive,” he snaps. “Because if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”
Disco lets out a furious shriek and flaps hard against the cage bars.
