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At least, he would be until I eliminated him. As soon as I had my own organization firmly under my control, I would make it my life’s mission to rid myself of Stefano once and for all. The rival drug lord wouldn’t live out the year, not if I had anything to say about it.
I lifted my chin and turned away from the men, doing my best to suppress the sickening unease incited by having all of them at my back.
“This way,” I urged, relieved when my voice came out in my usual cool, clipped tones.
They followed where I led, all of us moving soundlessly over the lushly manicured lawn. Dozens of armed men guarded the perimeter around the estate, but with this small team safely inside the walls, I knew exactly which path to take and which shadows to move through in order to reach the mansion without alarming security.
Pedro had extra muscle posted tonight, prepared for a full-scale siege. He’d known that kidnapping Sofia would bring Ignazio’s—and therefore Rodríguez’s—wrath down upon our organization. But my brother was arrogant, his entitlement blinding him to the severe risks he’d taken. He thought he could topple Rodríguez himself, but this power grab would be the last conceited mistake he’d ever make. Daddy wasn’t around to save his golden heir now.
All that extra manpower that Pedro had paid so dearly to protect his pathetic life wouldn’t be of any use to him now. Most of the guards were posted at the fringes of the estate, and there would be far fewer men inside the mansion to shield my brother from Ignazio’s feral wrath.
I could practically feel his tense menace pulsing over me, his impatience to save the woman he loved.
My stomach turned at the thought of Sofia with my brother, and I picked up the pace. I couldn’t risk a show of womanly weakness, but my fear for what he might do to the unwilling girl had forced my hand in enacting this coup. I never would have dared this bold course of action solely for my own power. Even with the backing of Adrián Rodríguez, this clandestine takeover of the Ronaldo Cartel wasn’t without risk. One misstep would earn me a knife in the back.
But I’d seen the way my brother had handled Sofia. He wasn’t going to give her a choice. Even now, I might be too late. He might have forced himself on her already.
My stomach lurched, and cold sweat beaded on the back of my neck.
I drew in a long breath through my nose and blew it out through my mouth, practicing the breathing exercises that helped me cling to sanity when dark memories threatened to take over my brain.
By the time we reached the mansion, the familiar panic symptoms ebbed, granting me more control over my thoughts and physiological responses.
I’d chosen to access the house via a back entrance into a mudroom usually used by our groundskeepers. This wing of the sprawling manor was mostly dark, none of the rooms currently in use. Pedro had evicted all guests and even close associates prior to kidnapping Sofia. He hadn’t trusted that they wouldn’t turn on him during this tumultuous time.
None of my brother’s men would have dared to raise a hand against him. Until I saw how he intended to treat Sofia, I wouldn’t have dared to challenge him, either.
Now, he would pay for his years of casual cruelty.
And I would finally be safe.
I paused at the bottom of a stairwell that was used only by household management staff. No one would be here at this time of night, and the minimal security posted around my brother’s bedroom could be easily handled by the vicious killers at my back.
I turned to face them, keeping my eyes fixed on Rodríguez. Addressing him was a strategic show of respect to the most powerful man in the group. But focusing solely on him also allowed me to mitigate the debilitating fear elicited by Stefano’s nearness.
“Security is lax this deep into the compound, so you should be able to navigate from here without me,” I informed him in an undertone.
If I was going to feign innocence in my brother’s murder, I couldn’t risk being seen anywhere near him.
Rodríguez listened intently to my descriptions of the guards’ locations and the resistance they might face. His eerie, luminous eyes glowed through the darkness, his keen attention making the fine hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I resisted the urge to drop my gaze and back away.
He gave me his word, I reminded myself. Rodríguez might be a sadistic monster, but he kept his promises. By morning, Pedro would be dead, and I would control the Ronaldo Cartel.
“Pedro’s bedroom is on the third floor.” I killed my brother with a few words. “There will be two guards in the hall. Others will come running if they hear a disturbance.”
