CHAPTER THREE: BLOOD AND PAPER.
975 Words
Morning light streamed weakly through the thin curtains of the safehouse. Elena barely slept; every time she closed her eyes she saw masked men and the cold smile on Rafael’s face. Now she stood in front of the cracked mirror, forcing her hands steady enough to button a clean blouse. If she looked weak, Rafael would pounce. She had to project control—even if inside, she felt like a hostage.
Izzy leaned against the doorframe, sipping coffee like this was any ordinary day. “You look nervous,” she observed flatly. “That’s good. Means you’ll listen.”
“I’m not nervous,” Elena lied.
Izzy smirked and set down her cup. “Sure you’re not, sweetheart. Let’s go. Boss has a job for you.”
They drove in silence across Monterrey’s sprawling streets. Elena’s stomach tightened when they pulled into the gleaming underground garage of a corporate office tower. From the outside, it could’ve belonged to a law firm or a tech company. Men with rifles and expensive suits milled around, a surreal mix of boardroom and battlefield.
Rafael waited upstairs in a glass-walled office, his jacket draped over a leather chair. He looked rested, amused, completely in control. “Señorita Cruz,” he greeted as though she were there for an internship interview. “I trust you’re ready to earn your keep.”
Elena kept her voice calm. “You said you needed me for something involving Judge Valdez.”
“That’s right.” Rafael slid a manila folder across the polished desk. Inside were legal briefs, sealed motions, and a list of case numbers Elena recognized—drug and money laundering trials set before Valdez’s court. She felt a rush of nausea.
“You’ll deliver these today. Adjust the docket so these hearings are pushed to the bottom of the calendar. My people handle the rest. And don’t worry—your Judge is already bought and paid for. He’ll sign off.”
Elena stared at him. “You’re manipulating the entire court schedule.”
He gave a faint shrug. “I prefer the term optimizing. You work for him; he trusts you. This is nothing. You’ll do much worse before long.”
Something in his tone made her shiver. She tried to remind herself she wasn’t a criminal. She was doing this to save Mateo. “And if I refuse?”
Rafael leaned forward slowly. “Then you and your brother are done. But you won’t refuse. You’re too smart for that.” He gestured toward the door. “Izzy will escort you.”
They left the tower and drove across the city to Valdez’s courthouse chambers. Elena clutched the folder on her lap, bile in her throat. She’d worked so hard to earn this internship, to help people. Now she was delivering poison into the heart of the justice system.
Valdez himself opened his office door. A distinguished man in his sixties with sharp eyes, he smiled warmly when he saw her. “Elena! I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Izzy standing a few steps behind, tattoos visible. He didn’t seem surprised, which told Elena more than words could.
She swallowed. “Judge, I have some filings from Mr. Vargas’ office.”
At the sound of Rafael’s name, Valdez’s smile tightened, but he nodded. “Leave them on the desk. I’ll see to them.”
Elena lingered. “Judge… you work with him?”
Valdez finally looked at her, really looked. “You’re a smart girl. Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.”
Something inside her cracked. She’d always believed Valdez stood for the law. Now she saw him for what he was—a man in the cartel’s pocket. It left her hollow and shaking.
Back in the car, Izzy watched her silently. “Hard pill to swallow, huh? Finding out the system’s a joke.”
“I just…” Elena struggled for words. “I thought he cared about justice.”
Izzy barked a humorless laugh. “Justice? That’s for movies. In the real world, you take care of your own. The rest can rot.”
They drove in silence to a rundown neighborhood. Izzy parked near a crumbling apartment complex and got out. “Come on. Boss wants you to see the other side of the business.”
Inside, a gaunt man cowered on a mattress. Two cartel enforcers stood over him. “He owes,” Izzy explained simply. “We collect.”
One of the men yanked the debtor up by his collar. “Money. Now. Or we break you.”
The man sobbed. “Please, I just need more time.”
Elena’s heart pounded as Izzy nodded toward the enforcers. They punched the debtor in the stomach, doubling him over.
“Stop!” Elena blurted before she could think. “You’ll kill him!”
Izzy’s head swiveled. The enforcers paused, waiting for her call. Something unreadable flickered across Izzy’s face—annoyance, maybe respect. “Fine. You get one week,” she told the debtor coldly. “After that, you’re out of chances.”
Back in the car, Izzy gave Elena a sidelong glance. “You’ve got guts. That’s rare. But don’t get soft. Soft gets you killed.”
Elena didn’t answer. She stared out the window, feeling sick and conflicted. Every step deeper into Rafael’s world made it harder to imagine a way out.
That night, back at the safehouse, she opened the door to find a plain white envelope on the floor. Heart hammering, she ripped it open. A single sheet of paper inside read:
We know you’re working with Vargas. Meet tomorrow. Noon. Plaza Hidalgo. Or everyone finds out.
Her blood ran cold. Was it a cop? A rival? A trap? Whoever it was, they knew her secret.
And she knew she couldn’t ignore it.
- Writer
