Page 37 of Set Up By the Cartel

As Mateo cut away my restraints, I sagged forward, muscles quivering with relief. He caught me easily, supporting my weight against his solid frame.

"Are you alright?"He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face with surprising gentleness."Other than the wound?"

I managed a shaky nod, wincing at the movement. The injury throbbed insistently, but it wasn't life-threatening. Nothing compared to the overwhelming gratitude swelling in my chest at being rescued, safe in Mateo's arms once more.

"I'll live,"I replied, managing a weak smile."Thanks to you and Javier. I never thought that Javier would rescue me one day."

Mateo's expression softened, eyes roaming over me with concern."Let's get you checked out. We'll talk more when we're somewhere secure."

He helped me to my feet, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around my waist to steady me. My legs wobbled, still numb from the ropes binding them earlier. Together, we limped towards the door, each drawing strength from the other's presence.

In the parking lot outside, Mateo bundled me into the passenger seat of his car, careful not to jar my injured shoulder. I watched as he rounded the hood, movements stiff with tension and barely restrained rage. The loss of trust, the violation of our bond with someone so close — it would take time to heal from that wound.

As he slid behind the wheel, Javier approached from the direction of the building."No sign of Novak,"he reported grimly."But I doubt he'll stay hidden for long. Not after this."

"No,"Mateo agreed darkly, starting the engine."He'll be back, and next time, he won't have the element of surprise on his side."

They exchanged a meaningful look, communicating volumes without words. They would be ready for him.

While Mateo drove us to safety, his men set about cleaning up the scene of the confrontation. They worked quickly and efficiently, honed by years of experience handling delicate situations.

First, they dragged the bodies of Mr. Novak's fallen soldiers into a waiting van, stacking them like cordwood. Their faces were impassive, devoid of emotion. To them, these men were just obstacles to be disposed of, collateral damage in the now ongoing conflict against the Nightshade Wolves.

Next, they turned their attention to the growing pool of blood spreading across the concrete floor. Armed with mops and buckets, they scrubbed the stain until the only evidence of the violence that transpired was the lingering coppery scent tingeing the air. It wasn't going to stay there long.

As a final touch, they sprayed the walls down with industrial cleaner, erasing any trace of gunshot residue or other telltale signs of struggle. By the time they finished, the room looked as sterile as a hospital operating theater, devoid of character or history.

Only the faint odor of bleach remained, a pungent reminder of the gruesome task recently completed. Satisfied with their handiwork, the men gathered their supplies and exited the way they came, leaving the space pristine and empty.

Later, as we entered Mateo's mansion, I swayed on my feet, exhaustion and pain catching up to me. Mateo kept a supportive hand beneath my elbow, guiding me towards the bedroom.

Once inside, he gently eased me onto the edge of the bed, concern etched across his handsome features."I need to check your wound,"he murmured, reaching for a medical kit.

I nodded without saying anything, wincing as he carefully examined the bullet graze marring my shoulder. Though not life-threatening, it still hurt like hell. Any wound would.

As Mateo cleaned and bandaged the injury, his gaze strayed to my swollen abdomen. Realization dawned in his eyes, wonder mingling with trepidation.

"Look at you,"he breathed, splaying his hands over the slight dome of my belly."Still protecting our son."His voice cracked with emotion.

Pride swelled within me, even as worry clouded his expression. I knew he had doubts about his suitability as a father, given his lifestyle and the dangerous world he inhabited. But I believed in him, in us.

"You don't have to do this alone,"I reminded softly, covering his hands with mine."We're a team now, you and I. Whatever comes, we face it together."

He searched my face, searching for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he exhaled heavily, pressing a tender kiss to the curve of my stomach.

"I want to believe that,"he admitted."Want to be the man you deserve, the father our child deserves."Determination hardened his jaw."But first, I have to finish what I started. Make sure Novak pays for what he has done."

I shook my head vehemently, meeting his gaze dead-on."No, Mateo. You don't have to wait. You can leave now, today, if that's truly what you want."

He reared back as if slapped, incredulity widening his eyes."Just like that? Abandon everything I've built, all the people counting on me? It's just not possible."

"Yes!"I insisted, rising to my feet despite the pain lancing through my body."Because you're more than your title, your role. You're the man I love, the father of my child. That should be enough."

He stared at me for a long moment, emotions flickering rapidly across his face. Frustration, uncertainty, yearning...

We stood locked in a tense standoff, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging heavily between us. As much as I wanted to keep pushing, to make him see reason, I knew it would accomplish little. This was an issue that required careful consideration, not impulsive decision-making in the heat of the moment.

Sighing, I reached out to take his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze."We need rest,"I murmured, exhaustion weighing down my limbs."This conversation can wait until later."

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