Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 22

"José!" Rafael barked out from his office, shrugging on his sportcoat and his favorite glock underneath his suit jacket. He had a meeting with another Narcos familia today and was planning on telling them about the ambush and the "death of his fiancé" to fuel their sympathy and support in starting a cross-trade war with the familia who had ambushed his team. But now, all he could hear was Isabella's whispering voice through his phone, the fear lacing through her words, and the fact that she'd said she loved him. That cut deeper than a literal knife stabbing through his chest, and he knew it too because he still had a scar there from a too-close altercation in his twenties. A handmade suit and expensive watch were in sharp contrast to the patchwork of scars and tattoos underneath, now with the addition of a new through-and-through bullet mark in his lower abdomen.

"Sí, jefe?" José stood at Rafael's office door, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Walk with me," Rafael strode through the house, that sixth sense he'd had to develop from a young age to survive at the top of this world kicking into high gear. Isabella shouldn't have been able to get a hold of Ryan's phone. She shouldn't be doing anything except sitting quietly in the car until she is safely back in the States with her family. And she sure as hell shouldn't be telling a man like Rafael Vargas that she was in love with him.

"Have you heard from Ryan or Martín?" Rafael looked both ways before climbing into the back of the bullet-proof SUV, José sliding in beside him.

"No, jefe. No word. My understanding was that they'd call only when the subject–"

"Isabella," Rafael cut him off, needing to hear her name out loud like a sign she was still safe and alive. They referred to subjects as problems to solve, pawns in a scheme, an item on a to-do list. He couldn't think of Isabella that way no matter how hard he tried.

"Right, sir, Isabella," José cleared his throat and glanced down at his phone. "Do you want me to reach out to them? See if I can get an ETA on the mission?" Rafael glanced out the window, his sunglasses covering his sleep-deprived eyes. What he wanted was Isabella back in his bed, or better yet in a bed in some far away place where he'd have a new name and identity could make love to her without fear of an ambush or an attack. The thought made him roil with guilt at the awareness that this is what he'd always imagined himself doing with his first love Alejandra, but he couldn't deny it to himself anymore. Even though he'd never see Isabella again aside from a confirmation photo that she was, in fact, returned safely to her family in the States, he knew that what he felt for her was more than he'd felt for any other woman in his life. Including Alejandra. And he also knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"No, give the men the rest of today. They should arrive in the States late afternoon, early evening. Expect a call from Martín then. I want a picture with a timestamp, entiendes?" Rafael tried to keep his voice business as usual but he knew it radiated with a sense of urgency that bordered on manic. A man who wasn't thinking straight. José had the tact not to mention it and simply nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"Back to today's meeting..." Rafael cleared his throat and forced away the images of Isabella's sweet face from his mind, "I want the Cojuna familia to go after the Montero family. They've been ambushed by them in the past, they should sympathize with me, especially after the loss of my fiancé. The Montero familia plays dirty, old school. The Cojuna family wants money, as clean as they can get it. They are sick of violence for violence's sake. We will throw our support behind the Cojuna familia and in return for their successful killing of key Montero members, siphon off fifteen percent of our Colombian trade routes for them."

"Jefe, are you sure?" José's voice rose in surprise but Rafael tried to play it cool. Only Martín had an inkling of Rafael's master plan, to siphon off his Vargas blood-ridden legacy bit by bit until he had nothing left. But his team couldn't be thinking that along the way, it was too dangerous. He'd secure the good ones, like José, formidable positions with families like the Cojuna's. But that bit would not be revealed until Rafael was far away from this place with no trail to follow him.

"José, you have potential. But one thing you must learn is that ruling the Narcos trade isn't about holding onto it with a death grip," Rafael slid off his sunglasses as the SUV pulled up in front of the Cojuna estate. "In order to get you have to give, and showing some generosity can go a long way in the end."

"But Jefe, fifteen percent percent of the Colombian trade route is–"

"José," Rafael's tone went deathly low, his jaw firm, "leave the business side of my business to me, no?" José flushed slightly and nodded once, slipping out of the vehicle and escorting Rafael from the car to the front porch where Francisco Cojuna waved with an AR strapped to his chest. As Rafael neared closer, his men surrounding him for precautionary measures, Francisco descended the steps of his impressive wraparound porch and slung his AR around from his chest to his back in a sign of trust and respect.

"My amigo, Rafael, I am so sorry to hear the news," Francisco grabbed one of Rafael's hands and wrapped it in his, "I cannot imagine the pain you are going through."

Rafael swallowed past the lump in his throat. It was one thing to pretend Isabella was dead when he knew she was not, but it was another thing to realize the same pain of never seeing her again. It sure as hell made the acting part of this charade easier, even though he resented the depth of his feelings with every fiber of his being. It simply wasn't good for business.

"Muchas gracias, Francisco. I fear my heart is broken at the loss of my dear, Isabella. I won't stand for the Montero familia's outdated and violent behavior."

"You know, I've resented them for years for it," Francisco nodded deeply, shaking his head, "Ay, Rafael, you may be el rey of the Narcos but to lose your love and your right hand man, all in such a short time? No man, not even you, can withstand that with ease."

Rafael felt a shock go down his spine, his head reeling. What had Francisco just said? To lose your love and your right hand man? Rafael tried to control his features, his jaw ticking ominously.

"Francisco, mi amigo, do tell me exactly what you've heard."
"Ah, well your beautiful Isabella was victim to the ambush by the Montero's and your Martín, who I knew since the days of your father, was killed no doubt in continued retaliation, left on the side of the road. Such disrespect in killing that way, as you know. I am here, Rafael, my familia is here to support you however we can."

What in the fuck was going on? Rafael dropped his head to stare at the floor, feigning an emotional moment of grief when really he was about to bash someone's skull in. Martín was dead? When had this happened and by whose hand? And what in the fuck did that mean for Isabella's safety? Was that the real reason she had called him yesterday?

"Francisco, please excuse me, I just need a moment before we discuss business, sí?" Francisco nodded with total understanding, welcoming in some of Rafael's men and barking out orders to get lunch ready. Rafael took a few steps away from the porch, running his hand through his hair. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this out of control.

Pulling his phone from his suit pocket, his strong hands shaking slightly, he sent a text to Ryan's cell.

Jefe: Change of plans. I want an update in the next ten minutes, regardless of whether or not you're in the States. Send a photo with a timestamp of Isabella and Martín, now.

Rafael slid the phone back into his pocket, hoping like hell that whatever news Francisco had heard about Martín was inaccurate. Because if his number two was dead, that meant that Isabella was in more danger than he could fathom, and he vowed to kill whoever had put her in harm's way with his own two hands.