Silas leaned back in his desk chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. His hands felt gritty and dry and no wonder, the amount of time he'd spent looking at the damn screen this afternoon. Normally, he'd assign this kind of research to someone who did it as part of their job, but it was important that he read every bit of the information himself to pick up any nuances. So many times you had to read between the lines.
Luis Rojas could win an award as one of the most evil men in the world. He had grown up as a foot soldier in the violent La Regla cartel, regla for rulers, which they had fully intended to become, until the day he assumed the mantle of control. There were whispers in back rooms that Rojas had gotten the throne not because he was the heir apparent but because he
