BOOK 2
Trapped within the iron grip of the notorious Morroto family, Veronica Garcia's fate hangs precariously in the balance. Days bleed into nights in the suffocating darkness of her prison, where despair threatens to consume her spirit. Each pass...
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I MARCH INTO the Morroto estate, murder on my mind. The guards barely give me a second glance as I storm past them, my focus unbreakable.
The cold, polished marble beneath my feet echoes with each determined step. I ascend the grand staircase, my determination fueling me, every fiber of my being honed in on one goal. Luis.
Reaching the top, I make my way down the hall, the door to his office looming ahead like the final barrier between me and the reckoning I'm about to unleash.
Without knocking, I twist the door handle and step inside, my eyes immediately locking onto Luis, who's seated at his sleek, imposing desk. He's focused on signing papers, completely unaware of the storm that's just walked into his office. The soft scratch of his pen against the paper is the only sound in the room, but it does nothing to quell the rage boiling inside me.
Without knocking, I twist the door handle and step inside, my eyes immediately locking onto Luis, who's seated at his sleek, imposing desk. He's focused on signing papers, completely unaware of the storm that's just walked into his office.
I close the door behind me with a quiet click, folding my arms across my chest. I clear my throat, cutting through the silence like a knife. Luis looks up from his papers, his eyes meeting mine, but I don't flinch. There's no turning back now.
I close my mouth, but before I can speak, Luis interrupts me, "Perfect timing," he says, not even glancing up as he continues signing papers. "We're flying to Russia at 9 a.m. Pack your bags."
I frown, glaring at him. "Oh, really?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what exactly are we flying to Russia for?"
Luis glances up, his eyes locking onto mine with a hint of a smirk. "I'm glad you asked," he says, dripping with sarcasm. "We're heading to Russia to acquire a unique portrait—one that could tip the scales in our favor." His gaze sharpens, daring me to challenge him, before he returns to his papers.
I narrow my eyes at him, unfazed. "A portrait? That's what all this is about?" I scoff, folding my arms. "And what makes this one so special?"
Luis smirks, leaning back in his chair. "It's not just any portrait. It's a key to something far more valuable—something that can shift the balance of power in our favor."
I huff and shake my head, "And Gianna's execution?"
Luis looks up from his papers with a slight smirk. "It's been postponed for three days," he says casually, his tone dismissive as he returns to his work.
I let out a silent sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Three days—that's more time than I dared hope for. Enough time to figure out a plan, to make sure everything goes right.
My mind races with possibilities, but I keep my expression calm, not giving anything away. Every second counts now.
