Page 140 of Marks of Rebellion
We take our seats at the round tables, and Zoe comes out in hardly anything. She's wearing a bodysuit that has glitter all over it and nude pieces covering her privates. The only jewelry she wears is a necklace. It's a rattlesnake pendant, and it hits her cleavage.
She holds it while she sings, and her eyes glisten. After her first song, she speaks in Spanish to the crowd, announcing that it's Jorge Cano's birthday.
The room erupts singing "Happy Birthday," and Zoe walks over to him. Jorge sits between the U.S. President and U.K. Prime Minister and eyes her up like she's his dessert.
The head of the Mexican drug cartel is sitting with two of the most powerful men of the free world.
More guilt, disgust, and fear rip through me about what is to come for the world. But I don't know how to stop it.
And the more Zoe sings near Jorge, the more anxious I get.
The longer she is near him, the more the men eye her. Jorge reaches out, grabs her, and throws her over his shoulder and slaps her ass several times. The men in the room all laugh and shout. Jorge sets her down with her back to him. He grinds against her ass.
Her eyes widen through it all, but she continues to sing. Suddenly, all the lights go out, and the power to the microphone dies.
Screams fill the room, and two gun shots fire close together. Carlos gets under the table, but I'm frozen in my seat. He yanks at my lower body, and I slide under the tablecloth next to him.
"What's happening?" I yell.
"I don't know."
Minutes pass slowly. It seems like forever until the lights finally turn on.
Jorge Cano has a bullet in his head. The President and Prime Minister are under the table with their security details on top of them. The Mexican ambassador, Eduardo Macias, lays on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
I scan the room, looking for Zoe, but I don't see her. The only two people dead are Jorge and Eduardo, and she's not under them.
There is so much commotion that no one seems to question where she is.
Carlos rushes to the door, dragging me with him. As I'm running out, I finally see Penelope on the other side of the room. A tall, dark-haired man is escorting her out.
Our eyes meet, but Carlos whisks me through the entrance and outside.
There's more chaos. Reporters are screaming, trying to get stories. Women are crying in shock, and men seem rattled.
Carlos gets on his phone and screams for his driver to pick us up, but there's already a line of cars jammed in the street.
I continue to look for Penelope and Zoe, but I can't find either.
When the car finally arrives, Carlos is agitated, and his phone rings.
"How did that happen?" he barks.
I stare out the window, clasping my hands, hoping he doesn't take his rage out on me.
"This is going to cause major issues. With Jorge dead, his son is going to want to step in."
Just like Santiago did when he killed Alejandro.
"Torres is going to get greedy now. There are no other players for the supply. And Jorge's son isn't capable of handling what his father was running."
His body stiffens next to mine, and I shudder.
"I'll meet you at your house." He hangs up and rolls the divider window down. "Prime Minister Vasquez's house."
Within minutes, we pull into the Prime Minister's drive. Carlos turns to me. "Change into something I like and wait for me in our bedroom. I'll wake you up when I get home."
A new curdling in my stomach occurs.
