Hunter didn’t reply, simply fired off a text and waited for a reply with toe-tapping impatience.

  “I doubt they’re flying commercial,” drawled the younger Edgington. “If they’re going private, that means they’re on their own schedule, so no. Fuck!”

  Though Laila had been half expecting that answer, it still crushed her. “Can anyone else stop them? The police?”

  “If they go in, sirens blaring, there’s a good chance Montilla’s thugs get spooked and Trees doesn’t survive. The only teammate who could get there fast enough is Zy, but he can’t take on three of Montilla’s thugs without assistance and backup. He’d either become a captive or a casualty, too.”

  Hunter’s phone dinged. “Okay, Dad reached out to his friend at the airport. The air-traffic control tower said there’s a private plane due to take off in twenty minutes.”

  “Can the tower delay the flight?” Laila asked.

  “I doubt it,” Hunter answered regretfully. “They’ve already been pre-cleared and they’re about to pull away from the gate. But Dad did say they’ve filed a flight plan to an airstrip northeast of Mexico City.”

  “Geraldo has a residence near there,” her sister supplied. “He also has an operation in the mountains to the east.”

  Laila turned to Valeria. How did she know that? From Emilo? Had her late husband shared such things with her?

  “So it’s a safe bet that Montilla will have Trees taken to one of those locations,” Hunter said.

  Yes, but how would they know which one? “We cannot wait for Trees’s blue dot to settle in a spot before we act.”

  “No, and they’ll dump the phone well before they reach their destination. Did you two have an idea how to shut Montilla down permanently?”

  Valeria turned to her. “Tell them.”

  Laila took a deep breath. “I will write Victor and say that I know he has captured Trees and that I am willing to exchange myself for him.”

  Logan scowled. “Why? Victor doesn’t have Trees.”

  “I know, but he needs only to think I believe he does. He is furious with me for betraying him to Montilla. Trust me, he will not pass up an opportunity to hurt me in the name of revenge. If we lure him to a location, you can capture him. We will then offer him to Montilla in exchange for Trees.”

  The three brothers who owned EM Security frowned in unison, but Hunter spoke for them. “And if you’re talking about taking out Montilla for good, I assume you’re saying we need to capture him, too? What if Victor isn’t a strong enough lure for him to agree to a meet?”

  Exactly where Laila had been hung up.

  “I will take care of that,” Valeria answered. “It is me and my son he ultimately wants.”

  Laila turned to her sister in horror. “You cannot!”

  “Oh, I have no intention of staying with Montilla or letting him infect Jorge, but he will jump at the chance to meet my little boy. Take my word on that.”

  The grandson he’d never met. Perhaps that was true. Except… “There is a rumor Montilla is in a coma, one Trees put him in when he shot the old man during Kimber’s rescue.”

  “Can you verify that?” Muñoz chimed in.

  Laila gnawed on her lip, thinking through possibilities. “I can try.”

  “Good, because I doubt Montilla’s men would hop countries to grab Trees if el jefe himself hadn’t okayed the op.”

  “My thoughts, too.” Hunter nodded.

  “Same,” Logan tossed in. “Not unless he had a second-in-command with a lot of power.”

  At once, everyone turned to Valeria. Even Laila had no idea what her sister knew. They had rarely talked about life trapped under a drug lord’s thumb, as if they had both wanted to forget their dark pasts.

  Valeria nodded, surprising Laila again. “Federico Chavez. He’s ambitious, smart, and cruel. I have seen him do unspeakable things to gain favor and get ahead. Before I left, he was well on his way to becoming Geraldo’s right hand.”

  “Which means he will probably want to take over as boss someday,” Hunter surmised. “And your son is a threat to him.”

  “Very much.”

  That got Laila’s thoughts turning again. “Is it possible Federico would pretend to spy for the enemy, then sell them out to his boss at the last minute?”

  “Without blinking.”

  It was just a hunch, but… “Victor had an informant on the inside of Montilla’s organization. He clearly knew things, could influence the boss, and had power of his own. Could it be—”

  “Federico is the only one Geraldo trusts that much.” Valeria shrugged. “Or that was the case before I escaped.”

  That was probably the case now. In a den of criminals and cutthroats, trust like that wasn’t won over night. “I think I have spoken to him. And I think he will talk to me again. If I am right, this may be the last piece of the puzzle we need.” Laila turned to her sister. “You want no part of Tierra Caliente’s future? You do not wish to run the cartel or have Jorge raised to take over?”

  She clutched Jorge to her chest. “Never. It is why I ran from both Montilla men.”

  Laila palmed her nephew’s head. “Good. Then I think we have a plan.”

  Hunter narrowed those uncanny blue eyes on her. “You’re going to trade Victor to Montilla, then trade Montilla’s position to Federico in exchange for the promise that you, Valeria, and Jorge walk free from the cartel. Am I right?”

  She lifted her chin. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “No.” Then he smiled her way, and she saw respect spread across his face. “Trees said you were crafty. That’s an understatement. You’re a hell of a tactician. I wish I would have listened sooner.”

  She stopped bristling. “Thank you.”

  “Can you get in touch with Victor now? And his informant?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then set everything up. Logan is bomb with maps. He’ll help you find the best locations to draw them to. If this plan unfolds the way it should, you and your family will finally be free.”

  And if it didn’t, they would all be dead.

  When Hunter turned away, Laila grabbed his sleeve. “What about Trees?”

  “I’m not leaving without him, I promise.”

  “Thank you.” His vow made Laila breathe easier, but she had demands of her own. “I am coming with you to make sure.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

  “Yes. This affects my family, and Trees is my man. You cannot stop me.”

  “If word gets out that we took clients on a mission and one of you dies, our business is over. For good.”

  “Then you are fired as bodyguards and hired to take us to the cartel,” Valeria said.

  “If we refuse?” Hunter raised a brow.

  Laila shrugged. “We could hire others. Or I could act alone.”

  The room fell silent. Everyone knew she wasn’t making empty threats.

  “I am coming, too,” Valeria insisted, shocking Laila. “For too long, my sister shielded me and my son from danger. But we are family.” Valeria took her hand. “Rise or fall, we do it together.”

  “Fuck,” Hunter sighed out. “Please let me talk you out of this. Give me your contacts and I’ll—”

  “No,” Laila insisted. “They know me, and they will speak to me. I do not wish to waste time on a pointless argument. Are we in agreement? Or do I take my contacts and my leverage and find my own way to rescue Trees?”

  Hunter looked to Logan and Joaquin, each of whom gave a grudging nod, then he held out his hand. “Deal. You contact everyone, and I’ll get the men locked and loaded.”

  Laila shook his hand, eager to start finding Trees. “Deal.”

  Mexico

  Twenty hours later, Laila trembled anxiously, her head full of what-ifs, as she waited for Geraldo Montilla to show. She prayed she could hold herself together and keep everyone safe for the next hour. Everything would likely be over by then.

  After that, she would either be in Trees’s arms…or mourning the loss of a man she could never replace in her heart.

  Beside her, Valeria was rattled but holding herself together. Jorge, though listless, was unusually quiet, as if he sensed the tension in the air. Around them, most of EM Security, along with Jack Cole, Deke Trenton, Trevor Forsythe, and Ghost, guarded the abandoned hospital they had chosen as their meet point. Kane and Zy had Victor Ramos, whom EM had captured three hours ago, under wraps nearby. Thankfully, that part of her plan had gone off perfectly.

  It had been poetic justice to watch Victor swagger in, assuming he would take advantage of her foolish belief that he had abducted Trees and trap her. The look on his face when he realized she had duped him instead was priceless. With his minions subdued and his wrists shackled, Laila had relished slapping his face as hard as she could. She’d wanted to do far more, but they needed him alive—for now. She’d contented herself with her stinging palm, the pain a happy reminder that, if all went right, Victor would soon join his brother, Hector, in hell.

  Her elation was dimmed by the fact that Trees’s blue tracking dot had been extinguished shortly before the flight that had taken him out of the country left. It had not flashed on since. She didn’t want to think about the implications of that.

  “Are you ready?” Valeria reached for her hand.

  Laila nodded. “As I will ever be. You know Montilla and his thugs may barge in, guns blazing.”

  “Not with Jorge here. He will never put the boy at risk.”

  Not for the first time, Laila wondered why her sister was so sure of that. Maybe he realized he was surrounded by sharks like Federico and wanted his heir to be family? Perhaps, but would the drug lord still be alive and able to run his business by the time Jorge matured into a man capable of running a massive criminal organization…if he ever did? Then again, Valeria had been proven right when Montilla had snapped at the chance to meet Jorge, along with taking Victor captive, in exchange for Trees’s life.

  Beside Laila, Matt hovered protectively. Someone must have spoken into the comm device in his ear because he stiffened. “Roger that.” Then he cupped her elbow. “Montilla and his entourage are on their way in.”

  “Is Trees with them?”

  Matt paused, then shrugged. “One of their vehicles is a van. That’s all we know.”

  Which could mean anything. Laila tried not to think the worst. But if she could double-cross, maneuver, deceive, and trick people to save Trees, she knew Montilla was capable of doing the same for his own ends. After all, he hadn’t survived nearly three decades as the head of this cartel without being crafty. She had barely lived.

  The realization made her uneasy. She swallowed back a bundle of nerves.

  Minutes ticked by like hours until a couple of armed thugs appeared, glaring menacingly at EM Security, who also dripped weapons. One wrong move or one hot-headed maverick, and they could all be dead. Laila hated that her sister and Jorge were here, but there had been no dissuading Valeria.

  The next man to enter the expansive, dilapidated reception area swaggered in, wearing a white shirt that accentuated his sun-roughened face. He had thick black brows over piercing dark eyes without a soul. He was younger than Laila had imagined and attractive in a sinister way. He was definitely dangerous. She resisted the urge to shudder.

  “That’s Federico,” Valeria murmured just above a whisper.

  Laila made a mental note to give him a wide berth.

  Then an older man filed into the room next, leaning on a cane as if it was more a bother than a necessity. He was average height, average build, dressed like a college professor, minus the tweed jacket, in a crisp dress shirt, a bold blue tie, and a gray vest. He wore a simple wristwatch and had a piercing gaze.

  Geraldo Montilla. He had aged since the last time Laila had seen him, but he still had a commanding air.

  When he set eyes on Valeria, he stopped. Stared. His face changed. Softened? Then he clapped his eyes on Jorge. His stoic expression almost melted into something she couldn’t fathom on a man like him.

  It seemed tender.

  The old man swallowed. “Is that—”

  “Yes,” her sister snapped.

  There was an undercurrent between them she didn’t understand.

  “Can I hold him?” The old man’s voice sounded both shaky and scratchy.

  When Valeria hesitated, Laila shook her head. They had a plan. They needed to stick to it. “Not yet. Where is Trees? I want proof of life.”

  Montilla’s gaze fell on her and his dark eyes turned cold. “There is the bitch who helped steal my car. Why should I let you live?”

  Laila’s fear swelled. Her heartbeat surged. “Because I am also the one who made this meeting with your grandson possible. Now where is Trees?”

  The drug lord sent Valeria a surprised glance, then motioned to one of his thugs. “Bring him.”

  Laila held her breath as the armed man filed out the door, taking another with him. Silence ensued, and time seemed to stretch into infinity as she waited. Finally, the door scraped open again and the armed goons dragged Trees in.

  He was alive! But Laila’s relief was quickly tempered by the sight of him. She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth in shock.

  Trees had a black eye nearly swollen shut, a busted lip, and a mottled contusion flaring at his temple. He stumbled in between the two guards, looking exhausted or disoriented. No, drugged. He’d been pumped full of something to keep him contained and he looked barely awake and upright. One shoulder hung awkwardly, as if it had been dislocated. He had cuts and bruises all up his muscled arms. His knuckles were torn and bloody. Somewhere along the way, he’d fought—hard.

  When their eyes met, he suddenly jerked up and scowled. “Laila, you shouldn’t be here.”

  She didn’t argue. He was wrong, but now wasn’t the time.

  Instead, she turned to Hunter. By their previous agreement, he would do the talking from here. After all, Montilla was an old-school chauvinist. He wouldn’t take kindly to negotiating with her or her sister.

  As Hunter approached, Montilla sized him up. “Mr. Edgington, I presume?”

  Hunter nodded. “We’ve brought Victor Ramos. He’s nearby with guards, awaiting my instructions. After you’ve visited with your grandson, we’ll bring him to you. Then we will have fulfilled the terms of our agreement and you will return Mr. Scott.”

  “Of course,” the old man returned smoothly. “I was promised fifteen minutes with Jorge first.” He turned to his armed guards. “Take Mr. Scott to the morgue in the basement until then. He will be unable to escape, and if he tries to shoot me again or Mr. Edgington reneges…well, he will already be in a morgue.”

  Laila stiffened, and she whirled to Hunter. “If we cannot see him, they may continue to torture him.”

  Hunter hesitated, then turned to Montilla. “I’m sending one of mine with one of yours to ensure Mr. Scott’s continued health.”

  The old man shrugged as if he didn’t care, then motioned to one of his thugs, who grabbed Trees by his awkwardly dangling arm and tugged.

  The agony that crossed Trees’s face made everything inside Laila twist with hate and rage.

  Hunter also looked pissed off as he gestured to Matt. “Follow them.”

  The cowboy nodded, and the three of them disappeared down a set of stairs on the far side of the room, into the darkness beyond the handful of portable lights EM Security had rigged for this meeting.

  Then Montilla snapped his fingers. An armed goon produced a folding chair. The drug lord ambled to it and sat, then turned his attention to Valeria, his stare drilling into her. “Bring the boy to me.”

  Her sister held Jorge tighter. “I did not say you could hold him. I said you could meet him.”

  “He is my flesh and blood. I would never hurt him.”

  “Merely kill his mother,” Valeria shot back.

  “I can concede a child this young requires a mother. You will not be harmed. You have my word.”

  “Forgive me if your word means very little to me.”

  Montilla’s expression turned to thunder. “Bring me my son!”

  Laila reared back. His son? The old man wasn’t senile. Had he actually fathered Jorge?

  At her side, Valeria’s spine went even straighter. “After what you did to Emilo, the last person he needs as a father is you.”

  Laila gaped at her sister. Jorge was truly Geraldo’s son?

  “What did I do? I gave Emilo every advantage,” the old man growled. “Ungrateful, inept prick.”

  Valeria scowled. “You indulged and corrupted him. He was a sniveling boy, playing at men’s cartel games. You turned him into a criminal, even as you undermined his every move. You ensured he could not lead without your permission, then you constantly told him that nothing he did was good enough.”

  Fury twisted the old man’s face. “He was not fit to follow in my footsteps. His mother was weak, which she passed on to Emilo and his sister, Clara. Good riddance to them both. They were foolish enough to let their emotions overwhelm them. And they were both stupid enough to let themselves be killed by Pierce Walker. They got what they deserved. But this boy will be different. He belongs to me.”

  Valeria clung to Jorge tighter. “He is mine. I gave birth to him.”

  “I say now he is mine.” Montilla stood, rising to his full height. Suddenly, he looked a lot less injured and a lot more vital. “Once upon a time, you begged me to fuck you. Because you wanted a real man. Because you knew where the power in the cartel truly lay. This boy is my price.”

  Valeria scoffed. “I only fucked you so my sister and I would be protected. I never expected to get pregnant.”

  Laila blinked at her sister. Had she offered herself to Geraldo Montilla to buy their safety?

  Montilla looked amused. “I did. That was my goal. Or will you try to convince me that Jorge is my son’s offspring?”