“He’s not talking anymore. Just staring off into space.”
I heard the smile in her voice when she said, “Well, I bet you let him have it. I don’t know what he expected, coming over uninvited.”
“Some people never learn, Rhea.”
A pause. "Elin, be careful. Something's not right."
"When is it ever? Call me if you need anything. I have some calls to make."
“Thank you, Elin.”
I ended the call and went to call Gavriel, but knew he was in a meeting. Better to call and interrupt Harley standing guard than Gavriel. When I called, he answered on the first ring with his usual drawl. "Yeah?"
"All good, but I need a cleaner."
There was a beat of silence. "What kind of mess?"
"The permanent kind. In my kitchen."
"Juarez’s men?"
"One of his messengers. But he implied they're watching me."
Harley swore softly. "Twenty minutes. Don't touch anything else."
"I need eyes on my perimeter too. If Juarez is watching—"
"Already on it. Stay put until we clear it." Harley's voice turned serious. "Stay strapped until we figure out how deep this goes."
After hanging up, I texted Gavriel:
Elin: Someone broke in. Handled it. One of Juarez's men. We need to talk.
Elin: Harley said he’s on his way for cleanup.
I didn't expect an immediate response. In that meeting room, checking his phone would be a sign of weakness. The Azzaros never showed weakness, especially not in front of the Juarez cartel.
Chapter 36
Isetmyphoneon the kitchen counter and buried my head in my hands, taking long, deep breaths. Adrenaline, anger, and something darker came to life deep in my chest. I had to stay in control. Had to think things through.
Juarez was watching our properties. Watchingme. I was a liability in their twisted game of power they had decided they didn’t want to deal with anymore. The question was, was it because of my father or Gavriel?
After throwing some shorts on, I opened the small safe hidden behind a false panel in the kitchen wall, withdrawing the Beretta I kept there. Its weight was reassuring in my hand as I checked the magazine and chamber. I wasn't some helpless pawn to be sacrificed in their chess match. Slipping the gun into my waistband at the small of my back, I pulled my shirt over it.
My phone buzzed with a text from Barry Hillabrand's number.
Hillabrand: Need to talk. Urgent. Meet at usual place.
I frowned. Barry was dead—Gavriel had confirmed it when he'd confronted me about feeding information to the FBI. Someone else had his phone, which meant someone was trying to trap me.
Elin: Who is this? Dead men don’t text.
The response came quickly.
Hillabrand: Your only chance. Juarez knows about your betrayal. Meet me or die.
My betrayal? Clever. Use my assumed guilt to lure me out. I deleted the conversation and blocked the number. Whatever game they were playing, I wouldn't make it easy for them.
