INSIDE THE CARTEL.

CHAPTER FIVE:THE FIRST BETRAYAL.

The air in Monterrey carried a sticky weight by the time noon crept closer. Elena could feel it pressing on her as she sat at the cracked table, staring at her phone. The unknown number hadn’t messaged again since last night. No new instructions, no assurances. Just Plaza Hidalgo. Noon. Come alone.

Izzy was dozing on the couch again, an arm flung over her eyes, the faint glint of her pistol holster visible under her jacket. Mateo had left early with Rafael’s recruits. He hadn’t said where he was going; maybe he didn’t think he owed her explanations anymore.

Elena checked the clock. 11:37.

Her palms were sweaty. Every instinct screamed this could be a trap. But if she did nothing, Rafael’s noose would tighten. Her brother was already halfway in. The only way out was to take a risk.

She slipped on sneakers and grabbed her bag. Izzy snored softly. Elena eased the door shut behind her.

Plaza Hidalgo sat in the heart of Monterrey’s historic district, a quaint square framed by cafés and jacaranda trees. Tourists wandered between food stalls, couples strolled arm in arm. It looked deceptively normal, like no cartel violence could ever reach this place. But Elena knew better. Violence was invisible until it wasn’t.

She scanned the crowd nervously. Noon. Her phone buzzed.

Bench under the red awning. Sit. Don’t look back.

Elena’s heart lurched. She walked quickly, eyes darting for anyone suspicious. On the far side of the plaza stood a bench shaded by a tattered red café awning. A man sat there already, dressed in plain jeans and a baseball cap pulled low.

She hesitated, then sat beside him. “Are you—”

“Don’t say my name. Don’t even ask it,” he interrupted in a low voice. “But you can call me Lucas.”

His voice was calm but carried an edge. Up close, Elena caught the faint bulge of a shoulder holster under his jacket.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Federal investigator. Off the books.” He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes on the plaza. “And before you ask: yes, I know Rafael Vargas has you under his thumb. Yes, I know you want out. And yes, I can help.”

Elena’s throat tightened. “If you’re a cop, why not just arrest him?”

Lucas let out a dry laugh. “Because half the cops and judges are on his payroll. I don’t play by the official channels. I’m building a case that sticks.”

He finally turned to her, his gaze sharp. “I need someone inside. I know it’s asking a lot. But you have access I don’t. Documents. Movement schedules. Names.”

Elena’s breath hitched. “If I help you, Rafael will kill me. And my brother.”

Lucas leaned closer. “If you don’t, you’ll both be his property forever. At least this way you have a chance.”

Before she could respond, something flickered in the corner of her eye. A figure moved between the food stalls—too fast, too deliberate. Then another.

Lucas stiffened. “Heads up. We’ve got company.”

Elena’s stomach dropped. Two men, faces half-hidden under caps, closing in. And they weren’t carrying tacos. She saw the glint of metal under their jackets.

“Keep your head down,” Lucas muttered. He shifted slightly, his hand slipping into his jacket.

The first man lunged. Everything happened at once—Lucas shoved Elena off the bench, a muffled gunshot cracked, people screamed and scattered. The second man pulled his weapon, but Lucas fired twice, dropping him. The first attacker collapsed clutching his shoulder, blood blooming across his shirt.

Elena crouched behind an overturned food cart, heart hammering. The plaza erupted in chaos. Tourists fled, vendors ducked. Lucas grabbed her arm. “We have to move. Now!”

“Who were they?” she panted as they ducked into a side street.

“Could be Rafael testing you. Could be rivals trying to grab leverage. Either way, you’re marked now.” He shoved a small burner phone into her hand. “My number’s preloaded. When you’re ready to play for the winning side, call.”

He looked around, tense. Sirens wailed in the distance. “We split here. Go back. Act like nothing happened. And for God’s sake, don’t tell anyone about me. Especially not Vargas.”

Then he was gone, melting into the maze of alleys, leaving Elena trembling with adrenaline and terror. Her mind spun. Was Lucas really what he claimed? Or another spider in the web?

By the time she returned to the safehouse, the world had gone eerily quiet again. Izzy sat on the couch, fully awake now, arms crossed. Her eyes tracked Elena like a hawk’s.

“Where’d you go?” Izzy’s tone was light, but her hand rested near her pistol.

Elena forced a casual shrug. “Just a walk. Needed air.”

Izzy’s smirk didn’t reach her eyes. “Funny. Air smells like gunpowder today. You hear about that mess at Plaza Hidalgo? Two dead, one injured. Cartel-style hit.”

Elena’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth, but Izzy stood, closing the distance between them in two long strides. Her voice dropped to a razor whisper.

“Who were you with, Elena?”

Elena’s throat closed. Izzy’s stare was ice-cold, the barrel of suspicion aimed straight at her. Behind Izzy’s shoulder, Elena could see Mateo’s pistol glinting on the table where he’d left it.

The walls were closing in. One wrong answer and she’d be done.