"That's... quite an assumption," she replied slowly, her cheeks blossoming with a telltale flush. "But not everyone is interested in being possessed or handled. I'm not some prize to be won or a puzzle to be solved."

  Her attempt at standing her ground was admirable, yet I could hear the slight tremble in her words, the unspoken emotions that danced just beneath the surface. It was clear my bold declaration had surprised her, stirring a blend of resistance and an undeniable spark of interest. A grin spread across my face as I absorbed her flustered response.

  "Well, we don't have to worry about anyone else daring to try any of that, do we? You're going to be mine." Before she could muster a reply, I leaned closer, lowering my voice to ensure she understood the gravity of my next words. “The sooner you come to terms with what I'm telling you, the sooner I point you in the right direction to find your sister."

  I could see the moment my words truly registered, the realization hitting hard. It was unspoken knowledge between very few that her sister wasn't present at her own funeral, but she should’ve expected me to have it. I knew everything that went on in my city, even the most decrepit corners of it. Her face was a picture of poorly masked shock. There was probably a flurry of questions racing through her pretty little head. It was a calculated revelation on my part, dropping just enough information to keep her tethered to me, to ensure she understood that I held the cards to the mystery she was so desperate to unravel.

  Rising from the booth, I casually tossed a wad of cash onto the table. The amount was extravagant, enough to cover every meal on the menu a dozen times over. It was my way of paying for more than the service since Paula adamantly refused my money directly.

  “Wait,” Elena demanded as she rushed to follow me.

  The moment she stood, I moved, caging her between me and the booth. She tilted her head back and looked up at me, immediately realizing her error. I contemplated turning her around and bending her over the table. Unfortunately, that too would have to wait until another time. Her pouty lips parted, and she began to question me again, but I cut her off before she could finish.

  I brought one hand to the back of her head and weaved my fingers into her hair to keep her still. “Don't say anything just yet," I advised, my tone softening ever so slightly. "Take your time. It's important that you make the right decision because once you do, there’s no going back.”

  In reality, the choice had already been made. The paths before her, seemingly diverse, all led to the same inevitable destination. A carefully constructed maze with one with a predetermined end. Patience, in this instance, was a virtue I could afford.

  It wouldn’t hurt me any to wait a little longer, let her grapple with the illusion of choice. The implication I’d made was clear. If she wanted to find her sister, she'd be doing it only after she agreed to be everything that I demanded of her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ELENA

  Things were worse than I thought.

  On top of my father’s legacy being beyond repair, Eva was still missing, and I had as many answers about her whereabouts as the day I found our aunt brutally murdered.

  None.

  I didn’t know what to do. With each passing day, I became more frustrated and disheartened. I’d spent the past two weeks enduring the company of my uncle and his lingering, sick fucking stares. When I realized he wasn't going to be forthcoming with any information he may have, I tried to be tolerant of him for my grandmother’s sake. His phony display of grief for Eva, and the sudden affection he developed seemingly overnight concerning me, was nauseating. My sister had told me herself, multiple times, that she couldn’t stand him on the few occasions they'd crossed paths.

  It was clear to me that he was doing close to nothing to find her, despite claiming the opposite. Even if he actually had tried to, I’d long since confirmed what I already suspected when I first arrived here. The Castello family had very little power left. It made me wonder how they managed to hold onto the house considering the messy state of things.

  Maintenance and the cost of living in this area were more than what I would’ve made working at the convenience store for an entire year. They had to be dumping nearly everything they brought in cash-wise into keeping up appearances.

  And then there was Mateo.

  I hadn’t seen or heard from him since he took me out to that diner. I returned home more conflicted than I’d been before speaking with him. I knew I couldn't trust the man, but he knew exactly how to catch my attention and hold it.

  He knew I was in dire need of an ally, even if they only lent me an ear and helped point me in the direction. It was for that reason I forced myself to primp and dress for a night out with Melody and Peyton. I hadn’t wanted to involve them more than I already had, but I couldn’t see any other options right then save for making a deal with the devil.

  Speaking here was out of the question. Something about my uncle rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t trust him. I wouldn’t risk him overhearing the conversation that needed to be had.

  I sat on the edge of my bed and slipped on my heels, making sure I hadn’t missed a text from Melody. She and Peyton were picking me up tonight since my car hadn’t been prioritized in my move back. Heaven forbid the neighbors get a look at my seasoned sedan parked on their immaculate driveway. Seeing I had some time to kill, I spent a few minutes checking my sister’s social media before calling it quits.

  I found it strange not a single one of her friends had commented or posted to see where she was before her façade of a funeral was announced. Normally her pages were never short of interactions. There weren’t even a dozen condolences and the ones that had bothered weren’t names I remembered her ever mentioning.

  I leaned back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, placing my phone on my chest. A part of me knew I was in over my head, but I wasn’t anywhere near ready to admit that. Somebody knew what happened to Eva and where she’d gone, who hurt Molly too. Someone other than Mateo. Figuring out who was another story. If this was related to something my family had done, I couldn’t go around asking random people questions, especially here. I didn’t want to risk pissing off the wrong person.

  My phone pinged and I quickly checked the text, sighing as I sat up.

  They would arrive in less than ten minutes. That gave me five to come up with a way to tell them everything. I wasn't sure how to approach it. How do you explain that a girl who was supposed to be dead is actually alive? How do you sum up the chaos that had become my life? And on top of it all, how did I admit that I'd been propositioned by a notorious crime lord who everyone fears? Peyton and Melody were more familiar with this world than I was, and they knew firsthand about Mateo's sadistic tendencies. Yet, the same man who terrifies everyone had taken me out for breakfast, albeit against my will, and was offering me a tempting opportunity that was hard not to consider

  I’d replayed our one-sided conversation more than a dozen times. I vividly recalled the warmth of his breath against my skin and how my stomach flipped from being so close to him. I couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d approached me.

  It didn’t sound believable even to me, and I was the one there. What did he gain from this? I hoped Melody and Peyton could shine some light on things after I explained everything. That is if they didn’t decide to stay away from me after I told them my secrets.

  Lore was packed nearly shoulder to shoulder. The music was so loud I had a hard time hearing myself think, but if I was really being watched it was a nice buffer between us and whoever could be nearby. I peered down at the lower level, watching scantily clad women work the room as some people danced and others crowded the bar.

  If not for Peyton’s foresight to book a private booth with bottle service, we’d be down there in that sea of chaos.

  “You know, I’m not that surprised about any of this,” Melody remarked.

  Peyton shook his head. “Me either, but I wish I was.”

  I toyed with the thin straw in my glass. I had started with a margarita and was now three drinks too many past my limit. It was never a good idea to mix alcohol with my medication, but I believed this was worthy of an exception. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the day we talked.”

  Melody flashed me a sad smile. She looked gorgeous tonight. Her makeup was flawless, and she’d let her dark hair down. “I know you wanted to protect us from this, but if you ever got caught up in something we’d be right there with you, Lena. This is the last thing you need to deal with alone.”

  “I can drink to that!” Peyton agreed loudly, clinking his glass against hers.

  He took a generous swig and made a face, shaking his head from side to side. I laughed and took a sip from my straw, savoring the taste of Bacardi and Coke. He slammed his glass down and leaned closer, so he didn’t have to speak so loudly to be heard. Melody did the same so she could hear what he was saying.

  “Mateo knows Eva isn’t dead, and if by some slim chance, he doesn’t know who put the hit on your aunt and why Eva’s missing, he can easily find out.”

  “My money is on him already knowing. I would be shocked if he didn’t have her exact location,” Melody speculated. “I don’t think someone can piss in this city without him knowing.”

  I frowned, considering their words. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already thought of myself. It was both nice to hear my suspicions confirmed and a little terrifying. “But why help me?”

  Peyton blew out a harsh breath. “That’s the question of the hour, isn't it? I don’t get his stake in all this. Your family doesn’t have anything that would benefit him, not even a bowl of sugar. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I assured him. “It’s not like I haven’t noticed. What can I do, though? Grandma is old. My parents are gone. My uncle Slim and his son are gone. My uncle Luis is here but I’d be better off making nice with a snake than trusting him. The Castello lineage is practically non-existent. I’m beginning to feel like me and my sister are the only two left.”

  As I finished speaking, Peyton abruptly sat straighter, his gaze sweeping over our surroundings. “What is it?” I looked around but didn’t spot anything that caused alarm.

  “Do you see something?” Melody slid closer, angling her body towards mine as if it could be a shield.

  “Oh, shit. No. I was making sure we were good. No one eavesdropping or paying too much attention.”

  “Goddamnit, Peyton.” Melody deflated and grabbed her drink.

  He waved her off and leaned in again, but this time there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. “I’m an idiot. Your family does have something he’d want.”

  “Fuck,” Melody cursed, catching on before I did. “Now I feel dumb.”

  “What is it?” I glanced between them. When neither gave an immediate response, I got the hint. “No. No way.”

  “Yes, way,” Melody rebutted. “Your family has one last trump card, Elena. You.”

  “No,” I continued to deny. “I’m nothing.”

  Peyton jerked his head back as if I'd struck him and scowled. “What the fuck? Never say that again.”

  I sighed, having deja vu of the conversation we’d had the day of Aunt Molly’s funeral.

  “I don't mean it like that, but we have to be realistic. I know next to nothing about this world anymore. I have no power, no connections, save for you two. All I've got is my father's name. No matter what you or anyone else says, if he wanted a Castello daughter it should have been—is Eva. This world was better suited for her,” I reasoned, hating that some of my old insecurities crept into my tone.

  Peyton’s angry scowl morphed into a sympathetic one, which was even worse. “Your sister…” he shook his head.

  “Your sister was--is off the rails,” Melody finished bluntly. “You’ve always been more like your parents, Lena. I know it may hurt to hear, but like you just said, it's better to tell the truth.”

  I took a breath, and then another, struggling against the urge to cry. I wasn’t ready to have this kind of discussion, yet I knew everything they were saying held more than a bit of validity. I stood and began to squeeze out of the circular booth. “I need to use the restroom.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Melody declared, leaving no room for argument.

  I nodded and headed for the staircase, making sure I didn’t lose her in the crowd once we got down to the lower level. It was a major design flaw that restrooms weren’t available on the upper floor unless you booked one of the actual VIP rooms versus a booth. You shouldn't have to be drunk and close to pissing yourself while looking for a damn toilet.

  “Stay close,” I shouted over the music as I grabbed her hand. The bass was so strong it vibrated through my heels.

  When we finally reached the lady's room, there was a small line. We stood together, huddled shoulder to shoulder.

  Melody leaned in and spoke in my ear, the scent of vodka on her breath. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  I turned my head so that I could respond. “Don’t be sorry. I need to hear these things; I just don’t want to.”

  She gave me an affectionate squeeze and we moved up in line. A few guys emerged from the men’s room on the opposite end of the hall. My eyes met with a dark pair staring right at me. He looked pissed, and the way he was glaring made it seem as if I was the reason why. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place his name. He stumbled a bit, and I realized he was drunk off his ass. Melody caught sight of him and muttered a curse. I glanced at her surprised.

  “Do you know who that is?” Before she could answer the man was suddenly right in front of me.

  "Where is Evie?" he slurred, loud enough to attract unwanted attention. I backed away, trying to get out of his personal space. His breath was so foul that it made me want to gag.

  "Get away from me," I demanded, bumping into the wall behind me. It suddenly clicked why this stranger looked familiar; he was one of the profiles who had talked to my sister online.

  "Eva's dead, you asshole. How thoughtful of you to show up for her funeral," Melody stepped in, playing her role as a supportive friend perfectly.

  "Leave her alone, Jay," one of his friends tried to intervene, but he shrugged them off and advanced towards me, trying to trap me against the wall.

  Melody tried to block him from reaching me, but I pushed her aside when I saw his hand coming towards me. He grabbed my arm and yanked me closer, ignoring the growing crowd around us who were yelling at him to let go. The pain of his grip made me bite back a whimper as I struggled against him. "Let go," I snapped, feeling a surge of anger and fear rise within me. Without thinking, I punched him in the stomach with all my strength.

  He let out a pained gasp and doubled over, glaring up at me with pure hatred in his eyes.

  If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead.

  "Just tell me where she is!" he snarled as he straightened himself up again.

  "Get away from her!" Melody seethed, shoving him from the side. She started shouting something in Italian that I couldn't understand and shoved him again.

  He stumbled and fell onto the marble floor before quickly getting back up. For a moment, I was afraid that things were about to get physical, and I might need to take off my heels and defend myself. The last time I had to do that was when three girls at my intermediate school tried jumping me and my sister. I heard a commotion from behind me, and suddenly two men were charging towards us, pushing anyone who got in their way. Jay's aggressive stance immediately turned submissive as he saw the approaching figures. His friends also tried to make a run for it but were stopped by a third man. Not wanting to stick around and find out what was happening, Melody grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the chaos, nearly colliding with Peyton who had been trying to come to our aid.

  “We’re leaving,” he declared.

  I had no reason to object. Going home sounded like a great idea for once. He must have had a driver on standby because there was a ride waiting for us outside of the club.

  Peyton took the passenger seat, and Melody and I got in back.

  “Are you guys, okay?”

  “That dickhead didn’t touch me,” Melody answered.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, doing my best to shake off what just happened. “What about your car?”

  “Fuck that car. I’ll get it tomorrow. And I don’t drink and drive,” Peyton replied.

  I slumped back into my seat, replaying what just happened. I’d never met that guy before, yet he recognized me right away. My sister was supposed to be dead. He clearly refused to believe it. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Had she told someone that she was in trouble? It made sense, but who had she pissed off so badly that they came all the way to our shitty neighborhood to make her disappear?

  I had come out to get some guidance and all I got was more questions I couldn’t answer. There was one person I could turn to that would make all of this so much easier. As loathe as I was to admit, and knowing what it would cost, I think I needed him.

  But why did he want me?

  CHAPTER NINE

  MATEO

  I set my phone aside and finally gave my attention to the three men across from me. Elias, Sergio, and a seasoned recruit we called Theo were all patiently waiting to see what I wanted them to do.

  “We still have eighty-four bundles that need to be evenly distributed. Give them to individuals who consistently put in and take out similar amounts,” I instructed Theo, as he began deciding where the money would go. “Bring two men with you, one to follow and one to ride alongside,” I added before he left the room.

  I wasn’t worried about him getting robbed; no one was foolish enough to attempt it. However, once in a while, a rival or inexperienced law enforcement officer would test my patience. It never ended well for them. It had been years since I faced a legitimate threat, and I was confident in my ability to cover up any actions necessary to maintain my family's lifestyle. Of course, this success was not solely attributable to me; it was a team effort.