A few patrons lounged and sipped drinks.Awe mixed with calculation narrowed their eyes as though celebrities strode by.
In a way, Rubén, Enrique, and the enforcerswerecelebrities.Even though the police and media had documented the Lozano Cartel hierarchy, the sheer notoriety of narco-lore, along with layers of red tape and well-placed bribes, had established their untouchable public persona.
As Lourdes and her group passed the pay counter without slowing, two bouncers at the back of the vestibule opened a set of thick metal doors.The club exploded to life.Strobe lights flashed in red and blue as deep baselines pounded like a second pulse under her skin.The scent of sweat, liquor, perfume, and cigarette smoke crashed over her in waves.Her mouth watered for something light.Fruity.Decadent.The bar stretched to the left, a long, neon-lit beast of chrome and back-lit glass.At either end, curved wrought iron staircases rose in all their sinuous black elegance, winding toward the second-floor mezzanine like twin serpents.
Enrique settled his hand low on her back, steadying her without touching too much.Still, his presence lit a fire inside her.
Clusters of crescent-shaped booths, creamy sofas, and chrome-and-black tables dotted the sides of the building.Men in sleek suits and women in tight dresses laughed, flirted, and stared.
Of course, they stared.At Enrique, at Rubén, and at the armed guards trailing just behind them.
The dance floor dominated the center, packed with bodies moving to the hypnotic house beat.Gorgeous women in matching black club dresses danced on elevated platforms throughout the room.Their mesmerizing movements under the ever-shifting lights pricked something dark and primal in Lourdes’s chest.What, she didn’t know.
“Amazing,” Drina called out over the music and stared toward the second-floor balcony where patrons in the VIP section sipped cocktails and surveyed the floor like royalty in a coliseum.“Drinks first.Then dancing.”
Rubén guided her toward the staircase to the left of the bar.
Lourdes followed and gripped the warm rails.Her heels clicked against the corrugated metal steps.The further she climbed, the further the music receded, if only slightly muffled.Her belly flipped as the VIP lounge unfolded in the same opulence of cream-leather booths and chrome-and-black tables, but with fewer people.The subdued lighting cast everything in an expensive golden glow, a balm to her eyes.
She weaved between plush sitting arrangements until she slid into a half-moon booth along the wall.The beautiful burgundy brocaded wallpaper surrounding her softened the harder edges of chrome and steel.She exhaled slowly to battle back her tension.Some good that did.Enrique slid in beside her while Carlota, Drina, and Rubén took the opposite curve.
The guards fanned out in silent formation, scanning the area, hands near their weapons.
“So this is La Paradoja,” Drina drawled and flashed Lourdes a grin.“Prime hunting grounds.Rubén and Enrique come here often.”She pointedly stared back at her husband.
“I quit the moment I brought you home.”Rubén tapped her nose.
Lourdes turned to Enrique.He was studying the table’s glossy surface as if it held answers to the universe.Her stomach twisted.He’d been here plenty of times.Hookups.Flings.One-night stands.In the whirlwind of the past few days, she hadn’t even considered his sex life outside of her.Did he intend to sleep around once they were married?
A waitress in a tight black minidress and red high heels strutted over like she owned the place.From her sleek dark ponytail and lips painted the color of bruised plums, she exuded the confidence of someone who’d seen everything and sampled most of it.
“Ah, my favorite customers.”Her sultry, friendly voice belied her sharp grin.“Hola, Enrique.Rubén, months without a visit?I was starting to think you forgot about me.”
Rubén slung his arm around Drina’s shoulders and leaned back.“I’ve been busy.You know how it is, Alita,” he replied with polite dismissal.“Tequila, neat.My wife wants a virgin margarita.”
Alita cocked her hip and eyed Enrique like a cat that preyed on a bird with a broken wing.“And you, handsome?The usual?Or are we doing something different tonight?”
Lourdes bit her cheek and curled her fingers into her palms.The usual.That didn’t sound like a drink order.
Drina’s brow crinkled as though she caught the implication, too.
Enrique clasped Lourdes’s hand.“Tequila on the rocks.”
Alita’s gaze flicked down at their linked hands, and her bravado faltered.She straightened and shrugged.“Tequila it is.What can I get for the ladies?”
“Appletini.”Relief swept through Lourdes at the calmness in her tone.
“Ooh, that sounds good.Same here,” Carlota piped in.
“Of course.”Alita’s tight-lipped smile nearly cracked her face.With a final glance at Enrique, she turned on her heel and walked off.Her hips swung a little harder than necessary.
“Whew.Theusual, huh?”Carlota chuckled and rested her arms on the table.“That was something.”
“Carlota,” Rubén warned, drawing out her name.
“I just want to know ifthe usualcame before or after the tequila.”
“That’s none of your business, Carly,” Enrique bit out.
