Page 31 of Brutal Monster
"First, we plan." I move to the dining table where maps and dossiers are already laid out. "Cristian is tracking the brothers in Mexico City. I want to know who else we need to worry about."
Vanya joins me at the table, his presence steady and reassuring. "Your father's captains are divided. Some will follow you without question."
"And the others?"
His eyes meet mine, gray and unflinching. "Will need convincing."
"Then let's give them something to believe in."
CHAPTER TWELVE
VANYA
Ipour the Bordeaux into her glass, watching as she leans back in her chair. The patio railing frames the ocean beyond – a vast darkness punctuated by moonlight on water. A perfect backdrop for plotting murder.
"Your stepbrother," I say, keeping my voice low despite our privacy, "believes he’s untouchable."
Inez's lips curve around the rim of her glass. "Emilio has always overestimated his intelligence."
The breeze carries the salt scent of the ocean, mingling with her perfume – something expensive and subtle. I reach beneath the table, finding her ankle, and lift her legs onto my lap. She raises an eyebrow but doesn't resist.
"Tell me what he did." My thumb traces circles on her ankle bone.
"Besides attempting to undermine my authority at every turn?" She takes another sip. "Last week, he diverted shipment without authorization. Cost us three million and alerted federal attention."
My hand slides higher, caressing her calf through the silk of her pants. "Careless. Or deliberate."
"Deliberate," she says, her voice hardening. "Emilio wants me to look weak."
The waiter approaches. We pause. He clears our plates, refills our glasses, and disappears.
"Your father's empire," I say, "requires... a steady hand."
Inez leans forward, her eyes catching the candlelight. "I'm thinking something public. A message."
My fingers tighten involuntarily on her leg. "Nottoopublic. A warning that looks like an accident."
"His car," she suggests, "has those fancy new automated systems."
"Hackable," I nod, feeling heat build in my blood. "A tragic malfunction on mountain roads."
Her pupils dilate slightly. She shifts her legs in my lap, and I know she feels my growing arousal.
"What about his gambling habit?" I ask, running my hand higher up her thigh.
"Perfect leverage point," she whispers, her breath catching. "We could orchestrate a debt Emilio can't repay. Force him to make mistakes."
I trace the inside seam of her pants. "Then offer to help?"
"Only to lead him deeper," she continues, voice husky now. "Until he's compromised beyond salvation."
The wine forgotten, I watch her eyes darken with the same hunger I feel. Planning death together – this is our foreplay.
"When he's desperate enough," I say, "he'll attempt to move product through the eastern corridor."
"Where your men will be waiting." She shifts again, pressing against my hand.
"Not to kill," I clarify, "but to ensure his capture. Prison is a slower death for a man like him."
