CHAPTER TWO:THE DEVIL'S BARGAIN.
670 Words
The SUV dropped Elena and Mateo back at a dingy apartment safehouse, not their own.
Rafael’s orders had been clear: “You stay where I say. You breathe when I say. You don’t leave.”
Mateo winced as Elena cleaned his split lip with a damp rag. He looked worse under the light: bruises along his jaw, blood crusted near his temple.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” she whispered.
Mateo’s silence gnawed at her. Finally, he muttered, “I saw something I shouldn’t have. One of Vargas’ men. I didn’t know they’d take it this far.”
“Elena…” His voice cracked. “Don’t cross him. He’s not like the other cartels. He knows everything.”
Before she could reply, the door creaked open. A tall woman entered, tattoos peeking from under her leather jacket. Wavy dark hair, sharp green eyes. Her presence filled the room with quiet menace.
“Izzy Morales,” she said flatly, tossing a bag of takeout on the table. “Rafael sent me to watch you. Don’t make me regret it.”
Elena straightened. “Are you his guard or his babysitter?”
Izzy smirked. “Both, querida. And right now, you’re the baby.”
Despite herself, Elena almost laughed. Izzy was deadly but carried herself with sarcastic confidence. Likable in a terrifying way.
Still, Elena’s chest burned with resentment. She hadn’t chosen this life. She’d been dragged.
Izzy leaned closer. “Tomorrow, you’re going to Rafael’s office. He’ll tell you what to do with Judge Valdez’s cases. You’ll do it. You won’t ask questions. Or your brother loses a finger. Simple enough?”
Before Elena could answer, a ping came from her phone. The same unknown number as before: “We need to meet. Noon. Plaza Hidalgo. Alone.”
She stuffed the phone into her pocket before Izzy could see.
Who was this mysterious contact? An undercover cop? A rival? Or another trap?
She didn’t know. But she did know one thing: if she wanted any chance to survive—and get Mateo out—she’d need help beyond Rafael’s reach.
Elena decides to meet the mystery texter secretly despite Rafael’s orders, risking everything. A shadowy figure watches her through the cracked window as she tries to sleep.
The next morning, Izzy escorted Elena to Rafael’s headquarters—a pristine, glass-walled office that looked more Fortune 500 than cartel den. Men with rifles stood by the entrance, business suits inside. Crime in a corporate mask.
Rafael greeted her with that unnerving smile. “You’re going to help me make a judge disappear—on paper.”
He slid a file across the desk. Inside: evidence of Valdez’s shady dealings, blackmail photos, financials. Rafael already had dirt; he wanted Elena to manipulate court schedules so Valdez’s rival case would get dismissed, keeping the judge indebted.
“This is illegal,” Elena said quietly.
“This is Tuesday,” Rafael replied smoothly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll learn Tuesdays pay well.”
Before she could respond, an explosion rocked the building. Alarms blared. Izzy drew her pistol. Smoke seeped under the door.
A rival cartel attack.
Elena dove behind Rafael’s desk as bullets shattered glass. Rafael didn’t flinch. He calmly picked up his rifle from under the desk, c****d it, and said, “Welcome to your first day, señorita Cruz.”
Izzy fired through the smoke, dropping one of the attackers. The chaos lasted minutes but felt endless.
When it was over, Rafael stood over a wounded enemy, his face unreadable. Then he shot him without hesitation.
Elena’s stomach churned.
She hated him. She feared him. But worst of all, she understood: Rafael Vargas ruled because he was willing to do what others wouldn’t.
As Rafael wipes blood from his hands, he leans toward Elena. “You have potential. And if you stay close, you’ll survive. But cross me, and I’ll bury you next to whoever sent you that text last night.”
Her blood ran cold. How did he know?
- Writer
