CHAPTER FOUR:BROTHER'S AND SHADOW.
927 Words
Morning sunlight crept into the safehouse, cutting thin slats of gold across the peeling walls. Elena sat at the rickety table with a cup of stale coffee that tasted like burnt ashes, but she drank it anyway. Her thoughts were heavier than her body: the envelope from last night, Rafael’s grip on her, Judge Valdez’s betrayal. She had no space left in her mind for hope.
A sound broke the silence. Quiet, careful footsteps from the back room.
“Mateo?” she called.
No answer. She stood, heart tightening. Izzy was still asleep on the couch, one arm dangling, pistol holstered but within reach. If Mateo left without permission… Rafael would make him pay.
She found him crouched by the window, lacing a pair of sneakers she’d never seen before—expensive ones. His hair was slicked back, his bruises already fading. And on his wrist glinted a watch she knew he hadn’t bought.
“Where did you get that?” Elena asked, sharper than she intended.
Mateo froze, then shrugged without looking at her. “Rafael gave it to me. Said I should look the part.”
Elena’s stomach twisted. “The part of what? A cartel errand boy?”
He finally looked up, his jaw tight. “Better than being a scared nobody. Rafael respects me. You should try it sometime.”
The words stung worse than any slap. “You think this is respect? He’s using you, Mateo! He wants leverage over me, that’s all.”
“You don’t get it.” Mateo stood now, defiant. “When those men grabbed me, I thought I was dead. Then Rafael came. He told me I had potential. He said I wasn’t weak. For once, someone believed in me.”
Elena’s throat went dry. He was only seventeen, still half a kid. And Rafael, with his charm and false promises, was filling the gaps she hadn’t been able to.
She stepped closer. “I believe in you. That’s why I’m doing all of this. For you.”
Mateo’s expression flickered—doubt, guilt—but then hardened again. “You can’t protect me forever, Elena. Maybe I don’t need you to.”
Before she could respond, Izzy stirred in the other room. Mateo grabbed a hoodie and slipped out through the door. Elena followed, calling after him, but he was gone into the warren of side streets.
Izzy appeared in the doorway, yawning. “Let him breathe. He’s with Vargas’ guys. Safer than being alone.”
“Safer?” Elena turned on her. “He’s a child. Rafael’s poisoning him.”
Izzy leaned against the doorframe. “He’s giving him a place to belong. You ever think maybe that’s what your brother wanted all along? Look around, sweetheart. Monterrey chews up kids like him. At least Rafael teaches them how to bite back.”
Elena’s fists curled. She hated that Izzy almost sounded sincere. Maybe she believed it. Maybe she didn’t. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that Mateo was slipping further from her grasp.
Later that day, Izzy drove Elena across town to “see the real business,” as she put it. They arrived at a modern warehouse disguised as a shipping company. Inside, men and women worked at long tables, counting stacks of cash, logging fake invoices. Computers whirred. It looked like an office, except for the armed guards at every door.
“This is how the magic happens,” Izzy said. “Money laundering. Clean in, dirty out. Or dirty in, clean out. Depends how you look at it.”
Elena walked past the tables, her skin prickling. This wasn’t just some violent gang. This was an empire. Organized. Sophisticated. Untouchable. She thought of Valdez, the police, the faceless corruption that ran Monterrey. Her law school dreams felt laughable now.
“Why are you showing me this?” she asked.
Izzy shrugged. “Boss wants you to understand the stakes. Also wants you to see you’re not trapped. You’re part of this now. And you’re good at it.”
Elena flinched. “I’m not one of you.”
Izzy gave her a long look. “Then stop acting like you are.”
They drove back in silence. Elena’s thoughts were on Mateo. He returned at dusk, grinning, carrying a bag of tacos. His new friends—a pair of young cartel recruits—waited outside on motorcycles. Mateo handed Elena a taco like nothing was wrong.
“You worry too much,” he said lightly. “I’m fine. Rafael’s not that bad.”
Elena wanted to shake him, scream at him, but she bit her tongue. Fear wouldn’t save him. She needed a plan.
And then her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She slipped into the other room and checked. Same unknown number. Noon tomorrow. Plaza Hidalgo. You want out? This is your only shot.
Her pulse quickened. Whoever this was, they knew she was working for Rafael. And now they were forcing her hand.
She stared at Mateo through the doorway. He was laughing with his friends, oblivious to the danger they were all in. Elena made a silent promise to herself: she’d go to the meeting. If there was even the slightest chance of escaping Rafael’s grip, she had to take it.
But a chill ran through her as she watched Mateo slide something shiny under his pillow when he thought she wasn’t looking.
A pistol.
Her heart sank. Mateo wasn’t just a hostage anymore. He was arming himself, preparing for a life that could only end one way.
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