“Last week, you gave me an idea.” He adjusted the rear-view mirror and found her steady brown eyes. “I decided that we didn’t have a mole, but we needed one.”
“I’m not following.” She shook her head.
Nico powered on his tablet, and the glow from the screen brightened her face.
“We know Gerardo leaked information to a cartel.” He eased onto a dirt road, watching the side mirrors for other vehicles. “We just didn’t know who he worked with or if he exposed our two biggest secrets.”
“I assume one is your identity. The other…” She frowned in concentration. “The location of your headquarters?”
“Yes. For the past week, I kept all our lieutenants congregated at the estate and inconspicuously beefed up security, all while giving whoever was watching our business activities the impression that we were still focused on finding a spy.” He hit the gas on a straight empty road surrounded by fields. “We kept our ears to the ground, listening for whispers about an attack against the estate, and uncovered nothing. Not a peep. The location of our headquarters remains a secret, but…” He propped an elbow on the console. “The information Gerardo leaked put our smuggling routes at risk.”
“They’re going to attack your supply lines?”
“The most profitable ones. Our rivals want that business more than anything.” He clenched his jaw. “I’ve let them think we’re too distracted to notice what they’re planning. And I gave them a different distraction—another Gerardo.”
“You gave them a mole? Inside your cartel?” She leaned forward, watching him in the mirror with wide eyes.
“A fake one.” Mierda, he loved her interest in his business. “Chispa sent out feelers, making contact with our enemies under the guise that there was unrest within our ranks and he wanted out. He dangled valuable secrets, trying to lure the group that turned Gerardo.”
“I bet your enemies crawled all over themselves trying to recruit him.”
“Of course. But only one cartel could confirm their involvement with Gerardo.” Matias drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Los Córdoba?”
He nodded. “They know things only Gerardo knew.”
“That’s the group you set up to ambush you?” Her voice pitched with disbelief. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Oiga,” Nico said. “He’s getting to the good part.”
“Chispa made a deal with Los Córdoba.” Matias veered onto another dirt road. The lights of the nearest town glimmered on the horizon, but he made another turn, driving away from it and into the darkness of barren landscape. “In exchange for their protection, Chispa gave them the names of our liaisons and security details on the narcotics business we run through our El Paso compound. He gave them everything they need to steal that operation from us.”
“What?” She gasped. “You forfeited your entire El Paso division?”
“To convince them to trust Chispa.” Matias shrugged. “The Feds are days from taking it anyway. Los Córdoba doesn’t know that. Besides, someone suggested we start looking at new smuggling routes like Australia.”
She flopped against the seat back and groaned. “Me and my fucking mouth.”
“Love fucking your mouth, mi vida.” He held her gaze in the mirror.
Nico cleared his throat. “Turn right at the fork up ahead.”
“I’m still waiting to hear about this ambush.” She raised her brows.
“Mm.” Matias squinted at the road, watching for the turn off. “Chispa contacted Los Córdoba when we left him at the helicopter. Told them where he was and that Nico Restrepo would be returning soon. Perfect set up for them to trap us. I’d be really surprised if the Córdoba capo isn’t there just to watch Nico get killed.”
Her gaze darted to Nico, her mouth hanging open. “Okay, we’re obviously not returning to the helicopter.” She looked back at the mirror. “When you don’t show, they’ll know Chispa set them up.” She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. “You did something, didn’t you? Did you assemble your own surprise attack on them?”
“Love the way your mind works.” He grinned.
“I have a contact on the Colombian police force,” Nico said.
“Not an ally.” Matias spotted the fork and turned off. “Just a guy Nico makes deals with.”
“Oh my fuck.” Camila touched her throat, her gaze flickering between him and Nico. “You sent the police to ambush them? What about Chispa? Won’t they take him into custody?”
Nico powered down the tablet. “I negotiated the release of Chispa and Don—the pilot—in exchange for the location of this ambush.”
“But the police are keeping my fucking helicopter.” Matias gritted his teeth.
“I should be getting a call anytime from my police contact,” Nico said. “Hopefully, they’ll have Álvarez”—a glance at Camila—“he’s the capo, in custody and put this headache behind us. Los Córdoba won’t survive without him.”
“Jesus.” She slumped in the seat. “What if Álvarez isn’t there?”
“Then he got a very strong message from us.” Matias spied a helicopter-sized blob in the field up ahead.
“Don’t fuck with the Restrepo cartel?” she breathed.
“Exactly.” Nico removed his seatbelt and leaned forward to speak low in Matias’ ear. “You’re out of time, parce. You need to tell her.”
“Tell me what?” She unlatched her belt, her gaze skittering over the field and landing on the helicopter.
The moment Matias parked beside the twin-engine, Nico swung open his door and stepped out.
“Camila.” Matias shut off the motor. “This is the helicopter I keep in Bogota. I had one of my guys fly it here along with someone—”
“Oh my God.” She stared out the passenger window, breaths quickening as her hands fumbled with the door latch. “Is that…?”
He followed her gaze to the man hopping out of the aircraft. Muscled physique, dark blond hair, arm sleeved in ink. Yep. “Tate Vades.”
She flung her door open and ran. Had they been on a busy street, she probably would’ve leapt over cars in her urgency to reach the bastard. Matias rubbed the bridge of his nose and followed her.
With her arms wrapped around Tate’s shoulders, she lifted on tiptoes and pressed her cheek against his neck. “What’re you doing here?”
Matias flexed his fingers and forced his feet to remain planted a couple yards behind her.
Tate met his eyes, expression tight. “You didn’t tell her?”
Expecting the piercing anger in the question, Matias lifted a shoulder. “I ran out of time.”
She stepped back, staring at Tate then glaring at Matias. “Why is he here?”
“You had three weeks!” Tate threw his arms up.
“I’ve been wooing her.” Matias straightened, clasping his hands behind his back.
It’d been critical that she didn’t know about Tate’s role until she’d given herself to Matias fully and completely. That hadn’t happened until she knelt for him and told him she loved him on the other helicopter only a couple hours earlier.
“Wooing? Is that what you call it?” Camila held his gaze as she stabbed a finger toward Tate. “Explain this.”
The pilot started up the helicopter with a squealing whine of the engines. The tail rotor and blades turned, spinning faster and ruffling her long hair.
“Hash it out in the air,” Nico shouted as he strode by with his nose buried in his phone. “We need to go.”
Matias and Nico quickly changed into the clean clothes the pilot had been instructed to bring, and twenty minutes later, the helicopter reached coasting altitude.
The cabin was comparable in size to the other one and refurbished to enable passengers to talk without headsets. But it was older and made for wear, reminding Matias of the interior of a commercial airliner. That was fine since it was primarily used by his lieutenants and hitmen.
Nico and Tate sat with their backs to the cockpit, facing the bench seat Matias shared with Camila.
“They got Álvarez and most of his top men.” Nico held up a text message on his phone, grinning. “Chispa and Don are going to lay low for a few days before we send for them.”
Los Córdoba is finished. Now Camila could safely wander the estate as his equal.
Matias closed his eyes in relief and reached over to clasp her hand. When her soft fingers closed around his, he knew that everything would be okay. They were headed home, and while she was probably ready to chew him a new asshole over Tate, she was here, holding his hand, her thumb stroking his. Because she loved him. Best fucking feeling in the world.
“Are we worried about being tracked again?” she asked.
“Not till we get closer to home.” He took in the beauty of her profile—long lashes, high cheekbones, supple lips—and drew a deep breath. “I met Tate four years ago.”
She glanced at Tate, who nodded.
Her eyes closed. “I assume that wasn’t coincidental.” She cast a sideways glare at Matias. “How did you find us?”
For the next few minutes, he explained how he’d arrived to collect Van Quiso’s body the day Liv Reed shot him, and how Van, bleeding and barely alive, led him to Liv, who unknowingly took him right to Camila.
She tipped her head as she listened, and when he fell quiet, she didn’t blow up or rush him with questions. She simply waited.