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ESTEBAN
Michoacán is known for many things—drugs, cartels, and avocados being amongst the most popular. But what I love more about this state is its lush plant life. Mountains and hills roll in beautiful waves laden with forests in varying shades of green.
I peer down from the helicopter window I’m sitting beside, ignoring the chatter between the pilot and my guests that can be heard through the headset. Below us, the land seems quiet. Calm. The serene beauty, however, is deceiving, for beneath the dense tree line is a wild landscape, active, chaotic, and dangerous to anyone who doesn’t belong there.
Enter with caution.
For a brief moment, I lift my gaze to Aurora. She’s much like that forest right now. On the outside, she seems collected despite the situation she finds herself in. To be taking it all in stride as she too absorbs the sights we pass. But when she glances up and our eyes meet, she reveals the turmoil and chaos that’s simmering just beneath the surface.
“I can see how you’ve gotten away without Remigio shutting you down. This is much farther than I expected,” Cruz chimes in through my headset.
Sighing, I drag my stare from Aurora’s to look at the obnoxious cartel leader. “It’s far enough from his territory that he couldn’t care less what I do out here. I’m far from anyone’s territory, in fact.”
Cruz grins as he nods and adjusts his package. “This is perfect.”
My gaze shifts to his cousin sitting beside him, whose head is lolling from side to side as if he’s asleep, but his breathing pattern tells me he’s not only awake, but also definitely paying attention to everything being said.
“How much farther?” Cruz asks.
“We’re here.” I tilt my chin to the right, and he looks out, his grin widening as if he’s just come downstairs to a large stack of gifts beneath his Christmas tree. “Welcome to Campo Escondido.”
Across from me, Aurora also sits up straighter, pressing her forehead against the window in an attempt to better see the fields that have just come into view. I watch her intently as she takes it all in. The small cottages on the edges of the property that house all the workers, the large metal roofs of the buildings where the equipment and crops are kept. The dozens of armed guards watching over the men harvesting row upon row of coca plants.
She chews on her lower lips, and I can see her curiosity is piqued, the wheels in her head spinning.
“You produce right under their noses,” Cruz comments, drawing my attention back to him. He’s shaking his head in disbelief but obviously pleased.
“Not exactly. Remigio knows what I’m doing. But it behooves him to allow me to do what I want so that my failures are my own, yet when I succeed, he can do as I do. Tell me, how’s your relationship with him?”
“I’ve done him a few favors,” he replies without taking his eyes off the ground. “Let’s say, we’re not friends. But friendly enough.”
“Good.” If I choose to accept Cruz into my business, it’s important he’s not an enemy of Michoacán.
The landing pad comes into view just as the helicopter jolts. Aurora sits up, tightening her seatbelt, a worried expression on her face.
“It’s normal,” I say, but the glare she throws my way tells me she doesn’t appreciate the assurance coming from me.
“Yikes.” Damian, seemingly done with his pretense of sleep, moves away from her slightly. “Whatever you did to her, boss, I want no part of it.”
The landing is bumpier than usual because of winds coming in from the northeast. All the while, Aurora holds tightly to the seatbelt, her knuckles white. But I don’t dare attempt to soothe her again.
As the blades slow, the guards outside move toward us and slide open the door.
Cruz is about to exit, but he stops, turning to Aurora with a wolfish smile that has my hackles rising. “Señorita.” He moves aside and allows her to pass. When she’s out, he catches sight of me and bursts out in obnoxious laughter that grates on my nerves. “Relax, amigo. I’ve got my hands full with my own woman. I’m just a gentleman.”
Damian arches a brow. “The first part may be true, but the last is doub— ¡Pinche cabron! What was that for?” he asks, rubbing the back of his head where he was slapped. Seems like something that happens often.
“I’m going to check in with Guillermo. Gentlemen, enjoy the tour.” Rodrigo excuses himself, taking two of the men with him to meet with the overseer.
“This way please.” I head toward the groves with Cruz and Damian at my side and Aurora close at our heels.
She remains behind me, no matter how fast or slow I walk, and inexplicably, it infuriates me. But the moment we reach the edge of the plantation, she seems to forget her disdain for me.
Pushing between Cruz and me, she takes a step forward, her lips parting as she absorbs it all. Her expression shows every thought going through her mind right now. She was right, I am a criminal. But she sorely underestimated the scale of my drug empire.
She underestimated me.
And yet her curiosity gets the better of her once again. Reaching for a cluster of leaves, she grasps them tightly, tearing them off the branches. She brings them to her nose and smells them, her eyes still scanning the distance.
“You can’t get shit out of them like that,” Damian tells her.
Her gaze shifts to him and her mouth pulls into a tight line. “I’m sure you’re an expert on how to get shit out of these leaves.”
“Nah,” he says, shooting her a smile she doesn’t return. “I’m an expert at selling it. Your man here”—he looks to me reverently—“he’s the one who knows.”
The leaves slip from her fingers as she lets her hand drop. “So I’ve learned.” She turns her attention to me, her face as tense as I feel.
“You’re a pinche genius, Falcon.” Cruz slaps me on the back as he scans the fields proudly. “With your knowledge and money and my army and power, we’re going to be un-fucking-stoppable.”
* * *
