Page 1 of Fast Vengeance

Prologue

“Tía Victoria, do you want some more chicken?”

Seated in the last spot next to the kids’ table, Victoria handed off the platter of sautéed green beans and turned her head to smile down at her six-year-old nephew. “No thanks, sweetie, my plate’s so full I can’t fit another thing on it.”

He put the chicken platter down and went back to staring longingly at his own plate, knowing better than to so much as pick up his fork until they were all given the signal. Everyone knew the rules.

She leaned over to whisper to him. “Go ahead and sneak a bite. I’ll cover for you.”

He grinned and snatched up a bite of cucumber from his salad, doing his best to chew without drawing any notice.

Victoria smiled to herself. Due to her latest whirlwind book tour, it had been a few months since she’d been able to come to Sunday dinner at her parents’ house, and she’d missed it. This most recent book about the deadly Veneno cartel was her best work yet as an investigative journalist and she was damn proud of it.

The usual suspects were present: her siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and their children. Her father’s side of the family, all living right here in Houston, filling the old dining room with life and noise in the way that only a big, extended family could. They always celebrated special occasions together. It was loud and chaotic, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

When all the dishes had been passed around the table and everyone had filled their plates, her father raised his wineglass for a toast to signal that the meal was about to commence. “To the cooks,” he said, indicating him and Victoria’s mother, his deep voice cutting through the room with ease.

Then he turned to his parents, seated as always side by side to his right. They’d been married for more than fifty years, had risked everything to leave Mexico as teenagers with only the clothes on their backs, and start a new life here in Houston. “And to my father, the patriarch of this family, on his eightieth birthday. This family exists and enjoys a wonderful life because of your bravery and sacrifice. I hope we’re all gathered around in this same room in twenty years for your hundredth.”

Smiling fondly at her grandfather, Victoria raised her glass in salute. “To Abuelito.” With a hearty cheers and clinking of glasses all along the two tables set end to end, everyone sipped and then dug in. Conversation and laughter flowed freely along with the wine.

She’d finished her first helping and was reaching for another serving of roasted veggies when tires squealed on the driveway. Victoria and several others turned around to look out the tall windows that overlooked the front of the house. From her vantage point she could just make out the back bumper of a minivan that had pulled up behind her grandparents’ car.

“You expecting anyone?” she asked her father.

“No,” he said, putting down his napkin and pushing his chair back. “I’ll go see who it is. Back in a minute.”

He was halfway to the front door when something slammed against it. He jerked to a halt and everyone else went silent, all of them staring at the door, wondering what the hell was going on.

Before anyone could move or say anything, it burst open. Victoria jumped and smothered a gasp as her father stumbled back and three masked men stormed in. They all carried military-style rifles.

A wave of terror broke over her. Cries of alarm rang out from around the table but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the intruders. She instinctively grabbed her nephew and turned her body away from the men, shielding the boy while parents gathered up their frightened children and retreated to the rear of the room. She sat there staring at the men, frozen, her muscles rigid, heart hammering in her throat.

Her father hadn’t moved from his spot. He had a gun safe, but it was down in the basement. And even if they used all the guns in it, they didn’t have a prayer of fighting off three men armed with automatic rifles.

“Get the hell out of my house,” her father snarled, bravely blocking their way.

The masked man in the lead stepped forward and shoved him so hard he crashed into the wall. Then he turned to face them and it seemed to Victoria that his gaze landed on her.

“Victoria Gomez,” he said in a tone that sent chills racing down her spine. “My boss has been so looking forward to finally meeting you.”

She blanched as realization hit home. Carlos Ruiz, the most vicious Veneno lieutenant. He’d come for her.

Her sister-in-law wrenched Victoria’s nephew from her arms and ran to her husband, her entire family now gathered against the far wall at the end of the dining room, the men standing in front of the women. They were trapped in here, the only way out past the armed intruders.

Victoria’s entire body was numb as she woodenly pushed to her feet, fear flooding her entire body. But when one of the other men stalked over to grab her father and wrench him to his feet, the anger snapped the band of fear wrapped around her ribcage.

“Let him go,” she demanded, taking a step forward. They were here for her, for what she’d uncovered. Her family had nothing to do with it.

The man in front, clearly the one in charge, smiled. A cruel twist of his lips within the hole revealed by the mask. His black eyes glittered like a snake’s. “Come here.” He held his palm up, crooked his fingers at her. Like she was a dog he expected to come to heel when called.

One of her brothers grabbed her shoulder, tugged her backward. “Vic. Don’t,” he whispered, his voice tense.

She was afraid to move, but more terrified of what would happen if she didn’t. “If I do, you’ll let him go?” she said to the man, surprised her voice was working.

The man dropped his hand. Shrugged. “Sure.”

Indecision warred inside her. But what choice did she have? She had to protect her family.

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