Page 91 of Pretty Hostage


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“She’s not a virgin,” I admitted to Adrián on a rasp, my fear for her eating me up inside. “What if Ronaldo finds out before I get to her?”

Adrián bit out a curse. “You’d better hope he doesn’t.”

We both knew the ugly truth: Sofia had far less value to him as a sullied bride. He might be keeping her comfortable right now if he still planned to marry her, but if he thought she didn’t have to remain pure for their wedding night…

“Breathe,” Adrián snapped. “Snarling like a feral animal isn’t going to get Sofia out of this safely. You have to use your head, Mateo. Focus. We rendezvous with Duarte in thirty seconds, and then everyone gets into position. I need you lucid right now. I didn’t come down to Mexico with you because I intend to die tonight.”

Our slow progress made me want to tear this truck apart from the inside. Adrián’s private jet had gotten us to a nearby airstrip, but we had to take a quieter approach down the winding dirt roads to reach Ronaldo’s remote estate. I would have much preferred to drop straight onto his property with a chopper, but Adrián had called out my plan as idiotic the moment I voiced it.

He was right, of course. Sofia could get hit accidentally if I incited a firefight right on top of her.

Adrián was a better strategist that me on my best day, and with Sofia in danger, I was barely clinging to my humanity.

The truck came to a stop, and Adrián hopped out. I did the same, joining him in the thick darkness of the forest that surrounded our convoy.

Stefano Duarte’s perfect grin flashed in the truck’s headlights. His black eyes flickered over my face and down my body.

“You look positively terrifying, Mateo,” he approved, as though he was paying me a high compliment. “The blood of your enemies is a good look on you.”

I flexed my fists, feeling the dried blood cracking around my knuckles. The strange tightness on my skin told me that my forearms and face were covered in gore, too.

Things had gotten messy back at Caesar’s house.

“Cut the shit, Duarte,” Adrián commanded. “This isn’t a fucking dinner party.”

Duarte’s smile curved with malice. “I promise you I’m approaching this situation with deadly seriousness. But you can’t blame me for feeling a little celebratory.”

Adrián fixed him with a frigid stare. “After tonight, the debt between us is paid. Our relationship goes back to how it was before.”

“Adrián, we’ve always been good friends, and we always will be,” Duarte promised. “I look forward to this new era in our working relationship.”

Duarte was about to seize control of all of Mexico, eliminating his rival Ronaldo so that his cartel was the sole organization trafficking our cocaine into the States. He was pulsing with excitable energy, like he’d just won the goddamn lottery.

Before I could throttle him for daring to find joy in Sofia’s abduction, my phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me.

No one should be contacting me right now. Unless…

My phone was in my hand before I could fully process the decision to answer.

“Sofia,” I rasped, hardly daring to accept that her contact details had indeed flashed on my screen.

“This is Carmen Ronaldo,” a female voice responded. “Am I speaking with Mateo Ignazio?”

“I want to talk to Sofia,” I demanded.

Adrián glared at me, mouthing: hang up the phone.

I ignored him, and he knew better than to try to physically wrest the phone away from me.

“Listen, I made a mistake, but I want to help,” Carmen said quickly. “Caesar lied to me. I thought I was saving Sofia from you. But now I… You have to come get her. I’ll help you do it.”

“Put it on speaker,” Adrián hissed.

I managed the presence of mind to comply. This conversation was taking a turn my addled brain couldn’t follow, and I needed his clear head to sort out our next move.

“Why would you help me?” I asked, holding the phone in front of my chest, so Adrián and Duarte would be able to hear her response.

“Because I didn’t know Sofia hadn’t agreed to marry my brother.” Carmen’s voice sounded through the silent woods.

I caught another flash of Duarte’s white teeth as he recognized the caller’s identity. Suddenly, I was grateful for his presence, too. If he could help me think through this, I could ensure Sofia’s safety in the coming violence.

“I’m willing to help you get her out, but it can’t be traced back to me,” Carmen continued. “And I want your boss’ word that I am acknowledged as the head of the Ronaldo Cartel in exchange for this favor. If you come to my estate, I’ll let you inside. You, and no more than four others. Just enough to make it look like a surprise extraction and get Sofia out safely.”

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