Page 41 of Brutal Monster
I nod to Vanya. "Begin."
He touches his earpiece. "Execute."
We move like shadows between the shipping containers, Vanya two steps behind me, six of our best men fanning out in a precise formation. The plan unfolds with mechanical precision. Through fleeting gaps between the containers, I witness Marcoruthlessly incapacitating a guard at the eastern entrance with a shot to the head–his silencer muffling the sound. Domingo silently materializes behind Emilio's driver, pressing his hand over his mouth as a knife slices his throat.
I check my watch. Seventy-three seconds.
"Diaz is down," Vanya murmurs into my ear, his breath warm against my neck.
I spot Navarro scanning the bustling warehouse, his eyes darting with intent as his hand stealthily reaches inside his jacket. The atmosphere is tense, charged with the anticipation of his next move. Just as his fingers brush against the concealed weapon, Rafael emerges like a shadow from behind a forklift, moving with the grace of a predator. In one swift motion, he presses a stun gun to Navarro's ribs, the electric crackle barely audible amidst the ambient noise, then finishes him off with a stab to his heart. Navarro's body stiffens for a moment before collapsing to the ground without a sound, his death as silent as a whisper.
"Clear," comes the confirmation through my earpiece.
I step out into the open, Glock drawn, the sun catching its gold plating. Emilio doesn't notice me at first, too busy examining the manifest paperwork he's stolen from a dock worker now unconscious at his feet.
"Looking for something, brother?" I keep my voice light, conversational.
He spins, his expression cycling through shock, fear, and finally settling on that smirk I've always hated. "Inez. What a surprise."
"Is it?" I close the distance between us, gun steady. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"
His eyes dart left and right, registering his fallen men. "This is a misunderstanding."
"No." I level the gun at his chest. "This is a family meeting."
"You wouldn't shoot me." His confidence wavers as I take another step forward. "Papá would never?—"
"Papá sent me. Did you think he didn't know about the skimmed profits, the side deals with the Colombians?"
His face pales. "You're bluffing."
I circle him slowly. "The Russo shipment last month. The missing product from Tijuana. The weapons that disappeared in Cancún."
With each accusation, his shoulders slump further. I can practically see his mind racing, calculating odds, looking for escape routes.
"Claudio told you," he realizes suddenly. "That fat bastard?—"
"Claudio is dead," I correct him. "I had him killed as soon as I had proof he betrayed us.”
Vanya steps into view, his massive frame blocking Emilio's path to the dock exit. My stepbrother's eyes widen as he grasps the full extent of the situation.
"On your knees," I order.
"Inez, be reasonable?—"
I press the barrel to his forehead. "I said, on your knees."
He complies, sweat beading on his upper lip. "What do you want?"
"The truth. Then your resignation."
Emilio laughs, a desperate sound. "My resignation? From the family? You can't be serious."
"You have exactly one minute to convince me not to pull this trigger." I check my watch, making sure he sees the gesture. "Fifty-nine seconds."
"We can share," he blurts out. "The territory, the business—there's enough for both of us."
I circle him, keeping the gun trained on his head. "Forty seconds."
