Page 42 of South of Justice
Lucía gripped her satchel with both hands. Her pulse felt loud. She wasn’t late. Not technically. But Mateo had texted her twice. Just the letter:L?
She’d replied:On my way.
The elevator chimed. The doors opened onto the 9th floor, Legal Records and Archives.
He was already there. Waiting. He didn’t turn when he heard her steps, just kept scanning a large screen, his arms folded across his chest.
The overhead lights were too bright. Rows of filing cabinets and locked shelves gleamed dully around them.
“Mateo?” she asked.
His voice was flat. “When were you going to tell me?”
Lucía blinked. “Tell you what?”
He turned now. His eyes were tired. Angry. Hurt. “That you’re working on something, something Javier hasn’t cleared through audit or legal.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came.
“I know you,” he said. “You don’t miss steps. You don’t forget protocols. So if you’re hiding something?—”
“I’m not hiding it.”
“You’ve encrypted it off-grid.”
She exhaled slowly. “It’s a side project. Confidential. He trusts me.”
Mateo barked out a short, mirthless laugh. “He owns you.”
“Don’t,” she said, and the word came out harsher than she intended.
He stared at her. “Lucía, you know what this is. I found the shell company he used in Panama. It connects back to a holding firm in Jalisco. And that connects to?—”
“Stop,” she said again. Her hand was trembling. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Maybe because she’d only vetted this in a dark corner of her own mind. Only given it the green light because it fed into her own ambition, but which she knew she could never justify out loud. Could never explain the logic behind continuing to work with a man who’d abused his own position of power over her to try and get up her skirt. And then let him pull her even deeper into a very dangerous world.
Mateo stepped closer. He lowered his voice. “Look, I’m not accusing you. I’m trying to help. But I need to know what he’s making you do. Are you helping him launder money? Cartel money?”
She flinched.
He saw it. That was all the answer he needed.
A long silence passed between them, cold and breathless. Finally, Lucía said, “He’ll kill you, Mateo.”
“If that’s a threat?—”
“It’s not. It’s a fact. You don’t cross him. Not out loud. Not even in your head.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
“Well, I am.”
Another silence. But softer now.
He reached out and took her hand. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can fix it. Together.”
