The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(57)

“No,” Senator Deveron said. “We understood the terms. As long as we find Hattie alive at the arranged meeting point, we’ll be thrilled with your services. Evan will have his second chance, and Rever won’t have the opportunity to reveal any undesirable information.”

Asshole. He didn’t give a shit about Hattie. He needed the merger of the Deveron and Covington families so he had the U.S. Attorney General in his pocket—in case the media or anyone else stumbled on his less-than-legitimate connections to the dirty money of the Mexican underworld. It funded his campaigns. It bought his casino. It bought his hookers. “Send your f*cking people in here to clean up this place. I don’t want any evidence connecting me to this shit.”

“They’re already on their way. It was a pleasure doing business with you again. One of these days, we’ll have to meet in person and discuss how I can get you to work for me full time. I’m going to run for President soon.”

“I never do business with people I haven’t met.” It wasn’t a lie. I never took a job without weaving myself into the person’s world beforehand. They may not know my real name or line of work, but I made sure I knew everything about them.

“We’ve met?” Senator Deveron’s voice wavered, exhibiting an uncharacteristic flicker of insecurity.

I chuckled, finding amusement in exposing his fear. “Of course. I know everything about you, including your weekly call to that escort service in Fairfax. Your Christian constituents back home wouldn’t look favorably on that information.”

His anger vibrated through the phone, but he didn’t scare me. Nobody did. Unlike my father, I bartered in information. Money didn’t rule the world. Information did, and I had it in spades. I owned everyone.

“Son,” Ignacio Vargas said, putting his hand on my shoulder as I disconnected my burner phone and removed the battery. “Did everything work out?”

“Just as we discussed.” I slipped the phone into my pocket.

“And Senator Deveron’s connections to the Vargas Cartel won’t be exposed?”

“Not today.” I crossed my arms over my chest. My life as a fixer wore on me, especially when my family sucked me back into the fold to deal with their shit. When I started in my line of work, I loved being the force behind the scenes, manipulating the world to right it again. Now I realized my naivety. There weren’t any good or bad guys. They were on the same f*cking team, working for the same f*cking goal. The struggle between the righteous and the evil was world-class theater to manipulate the masses into tiny pockets of fear and hatred. After all, it’s easier to control people divided than people united.

I needed to make some drastic changes in my life. I knew that. I knew it for the last twelve months. I never intended to stay in my current line of work indefinitely, anyway. I always had other plans…other goals, and now it was time to move forward. My untimely feelings for Hattie complicated things, but I had a plan, and I needed to see it through.

“Are you going to stay for a few more days?” Ignacio asked, interrupting my wandering thoughts.

“I’m afraid not,” I said, my voice completely void of emotion.

“I could use your help,” Ignacio replied. “Things are going to be crazy now that the Alvarez Cartel has claimed some of my territory.”

Ten years had elapsed since the last time Ignacio asked me to help him with the Cartel. Rever didn’t have it in him to fill the role my dad had groomed him for since he took his first gulp of air. Ignacio realized that now, but it was too late. Leaders were born, not made—and Rever wasn’t a leader. Not even close. He was weak. Ignacio knew it, I knew it, and so did every cartel in Mexico. He’d never be the leader Ignacio craved.

“I can’t. I have other responsibilities. My next job starts in a few days.”

Ignacio nodded staring into the darkness. “It should have been you, not Rever.”

“Rever’s your legitimate son.” I could have said more, but no other words were necessary. We both knew the score, but his words meant more to me than I’d ever admit. A black sedan pulled up in front of the Villa. “This is my ride.”

“Take care of yourself.” Ignacio handed me my black lambskin briefcase. Except my computer, Senator Deveron’s cleaners would destroy all of my personal items with the rest of the evidence. Like every other job, I disappeared without a trace when it ended—a ghost with two identities, floating between two countries and two lives.

“Thanks.” I slipped into the back seat of the car.

“Ryker?” my dad said, his hand braced on the top of the door.

“Yes?”

“Are you going after her?”

“Miss Covington?” We both knew he meant Hattie.

My dad chuckled. “Yes, her.”

“Why would I go after her? The job is over. Everyone got what they wanted.”

“Except you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t think I noticed someone turned off the cameras in her room last night, or that someone deleted the video feed of the pool?” He shook his head in disbelief, a low, harsh laugh escaping his mouth.

“I don’t know what—”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “She’s important to you, and that makes her important to me.”