Page 84 of Corrupted Bride

“Easy there. Don’t you have a meeting?”

“I can keep them waiting.”

“Better not.” She pours some more champagne. “Seriously, go down, I’ll be fine.”

“I’d rather stay.”

“Don’t worry about me. When you get back, I’ll be nice and tipsy, and maybe I’ll have something cute on for you.”

My heart quickens. “Cute in what way?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. Now get moving.”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” I go kiss her again. It’s not easy, making myself leave the room, but she’ll be safe. I have two guards waiting in the hall, making sure nobody can get in.

My mind’s elsewhere as I ride the elevator down. I keep thinking about Marisol, her taste, her laugh, the way she sprawls when she sleeps, the smell of her hair products, the feel of her fingers absently stroking my forearms. We’ve spent so much time together this past week it’s hard to tell when one day stopped and another began.

I can’t remember wanting to be this close to a person before.

It’s exciting and terrifying. I’m spiraling and I like it. She’s the only thing on my mind, and maybe it’s affecting my work, but I can’t seem to make myself care.

The elevator reaches the lower levels. I stride toward the bunker-like conference room, some of my good mood leeching away. This is where me and Ruben would meet to discuss the corridor back before I married Mari. And now it’s where Don Nardo wants to talk business.

Escalante soldiers nod me through without bothering to pat me down. I find the space thick with cigar smoke. Don Nardo’s at the head of the table, puffing away, and several of his top lieutenants are with him. They’re all old men, wizened and hardened from years of cartel life. I can only guess at the violence they’ve done. Nico would love to hear the stories.

“Bastiano!” Don Nardo comes and shakes my hand. “Pleasure, pleasure, as always. Want a drink? A good cigar?”

“I’ll pour myself something, thank you.” I wander to the collection of bottles on a side table. “Where’s your son?”

“On his way. Ruben loves being late. That’s his worst quality.”

I can think of some others, but I don’t bother speaking them aloud. I fix myself a drink and join the other men at the table. They speak in a rapid-fire Spanish, sometimes dropping into English to include me, not that I mind either way. Listening to them chat among themselves gives me time to study them and to think about how this meeting is going to go. I doubt Don Nardo is happy with the delays in the corridor, and I’m positive he doesn’t realize his own son is causing all this trouble. But it’d be my word against Ruben’s, which is why I haven’t voiced my suspicions yet.

The old men start to get impatient when the door opens and Ruben sweeps into the room. His father goes to greet him, but pauses when another person slinks into the space.

Cruz, his shoulders hunched, not meeting anyone’s eye.

My blood runs cold. What the fuck is he doing here? I knew the moment Cruz left my house that he’d be under Ruben’s control again, but I didn’t think it would happen this quickly.

“What’s the boy doing here?” Don Nardo asks, frowning.

Ruben throws an arm around Cruz’s shoulders. “He’s my assistant, Pops. Don’t worry, he understands the situation.”

The wrongness strikes me instantly. Don Nardo doesn’t seem to notice though. This is a high-level meeting about an important drug shipping lane; there’s no reason for a fifteen-year-old kid to be present. Cruz is tense and won’t look at me, and the predatory gleam in Ruben’s face, the manic way he twitches as he pushes Cruz into a chair, it all sets my instincts screaming.

Under the table, I send a text to Nico.

More men to the hotel immediately. Something is wrong.

I don’t see his reply. Don Nardo begins the meeting and starts talking logistics: truck rentals, shipping depots, ways to avoid getting caught, hiding places, weighing stations. Mundane details, but still important, and all the while Cruz sits quietly staring down into his lap while Ruben is practically bouncing in his chair. The lieutenants present speak their mind, but it’s mainly the Don Nardo show, at least until the old man starts to lose his patience over his son’s lack of respect.

Don Nardo turns to Ruben. “Do you have something to add?” he snaps. “Or are you unable to listen quietly for ten minutes?”

“Actually, it’s good of you to call on me.” Ruben’s smile splits his face as he pushes to his feet. “I thought today would be the perfect day to make a special announcement.”

“What is this foolishness?” Don Nardo grinds his jaw. It’s clear he gives his son a lot of latitude in the business, but this is crossing a line. I doubt he even knows how to handle blatant disrespect.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about leadership lately.” Ruben walks along the exterior of the room, moving toward his father. The other old men watch warily. I’d bet my life they’re used to Ruben’s antics by now, but this feels different.