Page 25 of Depraved

This was really happening. Raul was handing over his entire empire to me. He reached beneath his pillow, pulling out a small velvet box. With shaking hands, he opened it, revealing an ornate gold ring set with a massive blood-red ruby.

"This has been passed down through generations of Cortez men," Raul explained. "It is a symbol of our power, our legacy. And now, it belongs to you."

He slipped the ring onto my finger. It felt impossibly heavy, the weight of generations of blood and violence condensed into a single piece of jewelry.

Raul held my hand tightly, his bony fingers trembling slightly as they clutched mine. The ornate ring glinted on my finger, its weight a constant reminder of the legacy I was inheriting.

"I truly do love you, my Layla," Raul said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "There is one last thing I must ask of you. One final favor." He paused, drawing in a rattling breath. I waited, my heart pounding in my chest. "I do not want to die a weak old man, withering away in this bed. So I need you to end my suffering in a manner befitting my rank."

The words hung in the air between us. I stared at Raul, searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But I saw only resolve in those dark eyes that had watched over me for so many years.

"You want me to kill you," I said softly, not quite a question.

Raul nodded, a ghost of his old smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Grant me a warrior's death. Let me go out on my own terms, with dignity."

I swallowed hard, grief threatening to choke me. Part of me wanted to refuse, to cling to the man who had been the closest thing to a father I'd known since I was stolen from my real family. But I knew Raul well enough to understand that this was no impulsive request. He had thought this through, had likely been planning it for months as his body betrayed him bit by bit.

I would do it. I would kill Raul like he asked, because I knew it’s what I would want if I were in his place. This life of ours was fucking rough, and it was bloody, raw and disgusting sometimes. But it’s who we were. It was our purpose. Dying peacefully and alone in our beds was never in the cards for us. Someday, I’d go out in a blaze of fucking glory, laughing all the way to hell.

I leaned forward, a single tear dripping down my cheek, landing on Raul’s face as I placed a kiss on his forehead. I stayed there, pulling my gun free, and pointing it right where I knew his heart was. There was no use in dragging this out. He was tired. He was ready, and so was I.

“I love you too,Papá.”

CHAPTER 9

Layla

Ismoothed my hands over the curves of my hips, studying my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at me was a stranger. Regal, dangerous, powerful, but so fucking broken. When did I become this sad shell of my former self? Surely this wasn’t the same bad bitch that was hunting flesh dealers only a handful months ago.

My hair fell in loose waves around my face, still damp from the shower where I'd scrubbed away the last traces of Raul's blood. The memory of his final moments flashed through my mind—the gratitude in his eyes, the soft exhale as the light faded from them. I pushed the thoughts away, locking them in that dark place inside me where I kept all my weakness hidden.

As I reached for my favorite stilettos, the sharp trill of my cell phone cut through the silence. I froze, my heart suddenly pounding against my ribs. Only a handful of people had this number, and most of them were already in the villa.

With trembling fingers, I picked up the phone. The screen showed an unknown number, but deep in my gut, I knew who it was.

I answered, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside me. "Gage."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then his familiar voice. "Layla."

Just hearing him say my name sent a jolt through my system, a toxic mix of rage and longing that left me breathless. I gripped the phone tighter, fighting the urge to hurl it across the room.

"What do you want?" I snarled, pacing the length of my bedroom. The plush carpet muffled my footsteps, the only sound the rapid pounding of my heart.

“I needed to hear your voice…” He was whispering, as if maybe there was someone else nearby.

"Save it," I snapped, but there was no heat behind it. Only deadness. "I'm not interested in more of your lies. I told you a long time ago, that if you fell for me, I would break your heart. But you know what? I guess I was the fucking idiot, becauseIfell foryouwhile you pretended to want me, and look where that got us.”

Gage's breath caught audibly on the other end of the line. When he spoke again, his voice was thick. "I never pretended to love you. Never. It started as just a job, yeah, but it became so much more than that."

I wanted to hang up, to cut off his words before they could worm their way into my heart. But something in his voice kept me listening.

"Do you know how many missions I botched?" Gage continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "How many times have I had to make excuses to my superiors because I couldn't bring myself to betray you and Raul?"

He paused, taking a shaky breath. "There was the arms shipment to Venezuela. I was supposed to tip off the Coast Guard, but I 'accidentally' gave them the wrong coordinates. Then the meeting with the Russian mob in Miami. I swapped outthe surveillance equipment for faulty gear so we wouldn't get any usable intel."

My mind reeled as he listed incident after incident, each one a moment where he'd chosen loyalty to us over his duty as an agent.

"The night of the charity gala," Gage said softly. "Remember? You wore that red dress that made you look like a goddess. We danced, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. That night, I was supposed to plant a bug in Raul's office. But I couldn't do it. I danced with you instead. For those few reckless fucking moments, nothing else mattered. Not my mission, not the agency, nothing but you."

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