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GABRIELA
The next week I was still riding high when, El General, the Sinaloan Cartel boss and my father’s enemy, had his annual cocktail party at his home on the lake. The General never donned an army uniform. His nickname evolved due to his command over hundreds of “soldiers,” and his cunning control over their operations in the pursuit of business both criminal and legal.
Carlos and I knew the Cartel code, he couldn’t attempt to hurt us during a celebration in his home. It would be a safe opportunity to find out whether or not he was behind the goons targeting me, or if they were just stupid enough to make a go of it on their own.
Let’s be real, it was time for Carlos and I to make an appearance as the power couple that we were. The small territory where we reigned was everything
