Page 3 of Drawn Blue Lines

“Freedom?”

“Revenge. Your poisoned bloodline already murdered one brother. You can die at my feet or use it to destroy the other.” Lowering onto his haunches again, he grabbed my chin and twisted it until we were eye to eye. “Help me bring down Valentin Carrera, and I’ll hand you Brody Harcourt. With what I have on that gringo, even you couldn’t fuck this up.”

I scowled. “If you think you can touch Houston’s political pinup boy, you’re delusional.”

“You did it once before.”

Memories washed over me in an unwelcome wave, but I forced a bored expression. “Tapping the same vein twice isn’t my style.”

“He ruined your life. It’s only fair that you return the favor.”

“Or I could bring you down.”

“Vengeance or death,” he demanded, ignoring my threat. Then I saw it. My bag. The one I never went anywhere without. He held it up like a prize, swinging it from the tip of his finger. “Let me rephrase. Vengeance, death, or more death. Lady’s choice.”

I had to get my hands on that bag, but negotiation was out of the question. “I’m not your fucking puppet.”

“No? Then what are you?”

My swollen lip split as I smirked. “A phoenix."

He stepped back, putting more than a few inches between us. Not that I blamed him. It was a bizarre answer to give with my last few breaths resting in the palm of his hand.

The phoenix didn’t wait for death to come. It took control of its own destiny and built its own funeral pyre. Igniting it with a single clap of its wings, it self-destructed in a blaze of glory only to rise from the ashes.

When one life extinguished, another one began.

The man’s face twisted, deep horizontal lines slicing through the weathered skin on his forehead. “You’re a crazy bitch.” As soon as the words fell from his lips, his mask fell back into place, and his tolerance faded. “You’re either with me or against me. If you turn your back, I promise there are measures in place to ensure your destruction. So, do we have a deal?”

I faced him, keeping my scattered thoughts hidden. Like a prison inmate carving a deadly weapon, it was better to sharpen the mind when the guards weren’t watching. Coherence held power, and power wasn’t given or earned. It was stolen.

And I’d steal everything.

An eye for an eye.

I’d make a deal with the devil just to send another one to hell. The time had come to even the score, and I drew strength from the chaos.

Now, I was chaos.

I was confidence and craving and covetous power. They may have erased my past, but they had given me far more than they took away. A new day had come, and with it a rebirth. They burned Marisol Muñoz at the stake, but Adriana Carrera rose from the ashes. It was time to reclaim my birthright and take what was mine.

“No.” I rasped, forcing a smirk. “A queen bows to no one.”

They were my final words before succumbing to darkness.

Chapter One

Brody

Chicago, Illinois

Present Day

Not everyone had a price tag. If they did, my life would be a lot easier. I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting inside a strip club, sweating through three layers of Armani and questioning my sanity.

Not that the place was a dive. The Blue Moon was one of the most elite clubs in Chicago, but at two o’clock in the afternoon, even the most elite bar looked like a shithole. Which is precisely why it was the perfect place to meet. It matched my mood—dark, dubious, and desperate. Just like my reason for being here. Even being eleven hundred miles away from prying eyes meant nothing in my world.

Someone was always watching.

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