The office door opened without a knock.
Caleb walked in, boots dragging faint dust across the marble. His shirt was torn near the shoulder, a line of dried blood tracing down his forearm.
Rafael looked up from behind the desk, eyes hard, unreadable.
"Tell me everything" he said simply.
Caleb dropped a file onto the desk with a dull thud. "Cassimo's men were there, no doubt. I killed three before it ended, we practically walked into an ambush"
Rafael didn't speak. His hand hovered over the file, then withdrew. "How many did we lose?"
"Just Luis. Marco made it out."
Rafael's gaze sharpened. "And Ortega?"
Caleb hesitated. "Gone. No trace. But Cassimo's fingerprints are all over this. He wanted us there. He knew we'd come."
Rafael leaned back, his jaw tight. "You think Ortega's working with him?"
"I don't know," Caleb admitted. "But it feels wrong. Ortega's no coward. He didn't run because he wanted to."
Rafael's tone dropped to a growl. "Then why did he?"
Caleb looked down. "Fear maybe, because he stole from you. I don't know but the ambush was too clean, too rehearsed. Cassimo's playing a longer game."
Rafael stood, pacing slowly toward the window, the city lights painting his reflection in fractured gold. "Cassimo doesn't fight with bullets first. He breaks loyalty before he breaks bodies. Ortega was loyal."
Caleb's voice softened. "Maybe he still is, in his own way."
Rafael turned sharply. "Don't defend a man who sold me out, Caleb."
"I'm not defending him," Caleb replied steadily. "I'm saying Cassimo's using fear. If he got to Ortega, he can get to anyone."
That thought lingered in the air like smoke. Rafael's fingers tightened on the edge of the desk.
"One of Cassimo's men,I tried to get him to talk…" Caleb added, his jaw flexed, a muscle twitching. "He killed himself before I could get anything."
Rafael's eyes flickered ,a mix of anger and something darker. "You let him die?"
Caleb's tone hardened. "He was already dead the moment he saw me. Cassimo trained his men to self-terminate when captured. He's not just attacking ."
Rafael turned away, pacing to the window. The rain streaked down the glass in thin, warlike lines.
He lit a cigarette, the flare illuminating his face in quick bursts of light and shadow.
"Cassimo doesn't do messages," Rafael muttered. "He does control. If he's silencing his men, it's because he's protecting something big, a move we haven't seen yet."
Caleb hesitated, then said quietly, "Ortega is out there alone, Cassimo should have killed him by now but he's leaving him alive."
The words hung in the air. Rafael's gaze turned razor-sharp.
Caleb continued, "Cassimo's not killing him because he needs him. Ortega knows our logistics, our drivers, our security routes, our suppliers,what if Cassimo finds him and uses him against us."
After a long silence, he spoke quietly, but with a weight carried across the room.
"Find him," he said. "Alive. I don't care how deep you have to dig or who you have to break along the way. I want Ortega in front of me. I want to hear from his own mouth why he did it."
The cigarette between Rafael's fingers burned down to the filter.
Caleb gave a short nod, but his voice was heavy. "We've already lost men, Rafael. Cassimo's not working blind. He's baiting us. If we go in loud, he'll be ready."
Rafael's eyes were cold . "Then we don't go in loud."
He crossed to the map on his wall, a sprawling network of red pins and lines connecting the routes of his empire.
He plucked one out, Mazatlán and pressed it flat against the desk.
"Cassimo wants to play shadows?" he said, eyes locked on the map. "Fine. I'll turn off every light."
Caleb frowned. "You mean..."
"I mean no shipments for seventy-two hours," Rafael cut in. "Every route, every truck, every wire transfer. Shut it down. If Cassimo has eyes inside my operations, I want them blind."
"That'll cost us millions," Caleb said. "You'll spook the buyers."
"I don't care," Rafael said, his voice low and final. "Better to lose a week of profit than lose control."
He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, sparks scattering.
Caleb studied him,the sharpness in his tone, the exhaustion just behind his eyes. "You're taking this personal," he said quietly.
Rafael's gaze snapped to him. "Everything's personal when someone dares steal from me."
The silence between them stretched taut. The rain outside softened to a whisper, the hum of the city beneath it fading.
"I understand"
Finally, Rafael said, "You've done enough for tonight. Go home."
Caleb hesitated then nodded once. "You're not coming home again, are you?"
Rafael didn't answer. He was already looking past him, back out at the city that pulsed like a living thing below.
As Caleb left, Rafael stood alone,the reflection of his face ghosted against the glass.
Behind the surface calm, something had shifted.
Doubt. Paranoia.
And under it all, a single thought looping like a curse.
'Someone inside was feeding Cassimo.'
And whoever it was, they weren't going to live long enough to explain why.
...
The scene shifted miles away, to a quiet estate on the outskirts of Mazatlán.
The night outside Cassimo's villa was thick and silent, the kind of silence that came only before storms.
The estate stood on a lonely hill above Mazatlán, surrounded by dry palms and the rustle of distant crickets. Inside, the rooms glowed with low amber light, music playing faintly from an old record, slow and deliberate.
Cassimo sat in his study, a glass of red wine in one hand, a cigarette burning lazily in the other.
Papers lay scattered across his desk,maps of trade routes, lists of shipments, coded messages, but his attention wasn't on any of them.
He was waiting.
A knock came at the door.
"She's awake señor"
He turned. "Take me to her"
They left his study and passed one of his heavy set guard stationed outside he door. They walked through a long narrow corridor before finally stopping Infront of a room. The guard opened the door for him and Cassimo entered and the door closed behind him.
Inside was a woman, she was barefoot, wrapped in a loose, faded dress that had once been white.
Her hair was tangled, her face pale, her eyes tired from nights without sleep. But even in her exhaustion, she carried something fragile and defiant, the small, steady way her hands rested over her rounded belly.
Buenas tardes," he said softly, as if greeting an old friend.
She looked up, eyes red as Cassimo walked lazily toward the chair opposite her.
Cassimo poured her a glass of water and pushed it toward her. "Drink. You look... pale."
"I don't want your water," she said quietly, her voice trembling but firm.
Cassimo's smile was slow, indulgent, the smile of a man amused by resistance he didn't consider dangerous.
"Luciana, it's been days. You must be thirsty. Angry, perhaps. But thirsty."
He leaned forward. "You've been through so much, hmm? All for love."
Her jaw tightened. "Where is he?"
"Your husband?" Cassimo asked lightly. "He's alive. For now. Working very hard for me."
Her eyes flickered. "What have you made him do?"
He studied her face for a long moment before answering. "Just a few small favors. Deliveries, messages... betrayal."
The last word he said softly, like a whisper meant to wound.
"He's stealing from Rafael Navarro's own empire as we speak. Beautiful, isn't it? How far love can bend a man."
Luciana shook her head, tears brimming. "He wouldn't. Julio would never..."
"Oh, but he did," Cassimo interrupted gently. "Because I asked him to. Because I promised you'd live. Because I showed him what would happen if he refused."
He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaled smoke that curled like ghosts in the lamplight.
"When I told him your name," he added softly, "I watched the color drain from his face. He begged before I even finished the sentence."
Her tears broke free. "You're sick."
Cassimo laughed quietly not loud or manic, but real amusement that chilled the room. "Sick? No, mi querida. I'm a realist. I don't waste bullets when I can use love as leverage."
Luciana's hands shook on her lap. "If he does what you want, you'll let us go?"
He rose slowly, rounding the desk until he stood beside her. She stiffened as he reached out, brushing a finger along her jaw.
His touch was almost gentle. Almost.
"Let you go?" he repeated. "And undo all this beautiful motivation I've created? No, no. Not yet."
She turned her face away. "You promised!"
Cassimo chuckled. "I promised you'd live. You and the baby. That promise still stands... as long as your husband doesn't make me regret my generosity."
Her breath hitched. "You're a monster."
Cassimo chuckled softly. "Monsters have rules, querida. I have patience." He continued. "As long as your husband keeps playing his part. If he stops sending Navarro's men into my sights..."
He leaned closer, his whisper brushing her ear. "...then something bad happens"
Her sob was soft, strangled, breaking something small and human in the room.
He crouched beside her now, his tone dropping to something quiet and intimate,the voice of a confessor, or a devil.
"You see, Luciana, I don't enjoy hurting people. I enjoy... control. Julio understands that now. He understands that I hold the difference between your heartbeat and silence."
Her sob came soft and broken. "Please... just let me talk to him. He needs to know I'm alive. He needs....."
He cut her off by placing a finger against his lips. "Shh." His eyes met hers,dark, unblinking, calm. "If he hears your voice too soon, he'll lose focus. And if he loses focus, I'll lose patience."
He stood,turning toward the window, gazing out into the black night.
"When this is over,when Navarro's walls start falling,maybe then I'll let you both go. You'll have a new home, money, peace..." He smiled faintly. "Freedom. That word everyone loves."
She swallowed hard, staring at him. "And if he fails?"
Cassimo turned, his expression softening but his eyes were merciless.
"Then you'll die, mi amor. Quickly, I promise. Pain doesn't interest me. Results do."
Luciana buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Cassimo stood watching her for a moment and for a fleeting second, something like pity crossed his features. But it disappeared just as fast as it came.
"The guards will bring you food. My little investment must stay healthy."
"Love," he said softly. "It builds empires... and burns them just as easily."
In that moment, he didn't look like a man, as he walked towards her door,he stopped and looked back at her."Hold on to your hope, Luciana. It's the only weapon I've left you."