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“Do you have anything else on you? Or should I search you?” the other questioned.

Still, she didn’t speak.

“Are they bringing her here?” Tobias queried, leaning in to see they were, in fact, on the road to our safe house.

“Search her,” the driver said.

I glanced back down at the cocaine and then the picture of Rocha before tossing the knife down and rising from the chair, taking my phone with me.

“Everyone has already headed back to Chicago, correct?” I moved towards the kitchen.

“Yes, the jet should be leaving in the next hour,” Tobias was still looking at the screen. “She’s very calm. Which cartel does she work for?”

“Have you noticed that you’ve been asking me more questions than I have been asking you?” I observed, tapping out a text before pouring myself a glass of water.

He finally tore his eyes from the screen and looked my way. “I noticed that when I was about thirteen.”

“And when will you notice that I am not fucking Google and stop bloody questioning me?” I finished my water before walking back to him. His eyebrow rose, and I dropped the glass in my hand, letting it shatter on the ground beside me. “Clean it up.”

He stood still for a second before bending down to pick up the shards of glass.

“We are not children anymore, Tobias. We are not equals. You and I are not friends, we are not co-workers. You work for me, you serve me, you are at my feet, and you are there happily. Aren’t you happy, Tobias?”

He inhaled and looked up at me. “Over the moon, boss.”

“You should be. There is a long list of people who want to be at my feet and not under them. If you forget your place, if you forget who asks the questions, you’re going to end up like that glass, one moment, needed, relied on, and the next minute shattered, useless, trash. It will happen so fast, you will not even have a chance to beg forgiveness. This is your first and last warning. Am I clear?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good.” I walked back to the table. “I just messaged the pilot; the jet is waiting for you. Take the Benz and head over there. You’ll be going back to Chicago with everyone else. I’ll let you know what I need you to do when you land.”

“Do you need anything else—”

“Are you about to ask me another question?” I challenged, rubbing the cocaine between my fingers.

“No, sir.”

“I gave you your directions, why are you still here?”

“Leaving now, sir.” He stepped out the first door and got in the elevator. I switched the camera feed, watching him go. When he got to the first garage, I noticed he kept the glass in his handkerchief. He took the Benz and drove out so quickly, the car skidded.

“I’m going to have to kill you one day aren’t I, Toby?” I muttered to myself. I could feel it. His growing resentment, his ambition for more. Ambition could be good…until that ambition butted heads with his loyalty and became treachery.

It doesn’t help that Donatella is screwing him. Actually, that’s the reason why he was becoming worse. He grew up so close to us, he could have been family, and with Dona now sleeping with him, he might actually mistake that for being family.

He’s not good enough for her. Dona had to know that, right? She had to see he was not good enough, he couldn’t give her everything she needed.

“Love makes us all fools, it blinds us, it leaves us powerless and vulnerable… it is a drug with the sweetest of all highs and withdrawals so harsh, so painful, and so cruel it can kill…I recommend it to everyone.” That’s how Dona described love in one of her books. So maybe she was in deep with him. I’d either have to force her eyes open or hope Tobias changed for the better of us all.

Beep.

Beep.

I looked back to the video feed and saw the van pull into the garage. The men filed out of the vehicle and dragged her from the rear. Turning, I crossed the living room and stepped into the back room. The lights turned on and I watched as they threw her into the graffitied room, the ground covered with dirt. They pulled the blindfold from her eyes and she blinked for a few seconds, taking in her surroundings. Her grey eyes finally landed the guards, three of whom had masks on. They stood straighter as a fourth fat man with a grey mustache and greased back hair came forward.

“Get her chair at least, you fucking moron!” He yelled, but looked over to her with a smile. “Forgive them, they don’t get lady company often, they’re animals. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Perfect gentlemen,” she replied, her face emotionless as they brought her a chair.

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