“Care for a drink?” Abril asked after emptying her wine glass. “Liquor, water, or coffee, I mean.”
Chris nodded. “Water would be great.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
The woman was quick to stand from the bench, giving Valeria a quiet word that Chris wasn’t able to hear, before disappearing into the back of the house. He walked closer to the porch, coming to a stop on the bottom step, but not moving further. It was enough for him to let Valeria know he would engage her though.
That’s all he wanted.
“You like wine?” he asked.
Valeria smiled, glancing down at the glass in her hand. “Not particularly, but I do like getting away from my house for an hour. Abril is one of the few people I can relax with like this without ... having to hear about it.”
He heard what she didn’t say.
Chris didn’t call it out.
Shrugging, she was quick to add, “She loves wine, and likes to try new ones. I indulge her. This one isn’t so bad.”
Chris noted the color of the remaining liquid in her glass. “A white wine is good for a hot night under the stars, but hell, so is vodka.”
Valeria laughed.
Freely.
She tossed her head back with a laugh, surprised by his frank statement. To be fair, the way the woman looked in the moonlight as she laughed equally shocked him. The russet tones in her golden skin were more clear, her dimmed gaze brightened, and those pretty lips of hers curved in the most beautiful way in her easy joy.
He wondered if she didn’t get to do that enough.
Laugh, that was.
Not wanting to make her uncomfortable with his staring when she quieted, Chris cleared his throat, and glanced up at the inky sky. “I don’t think I can appreciate the size of this place at night, but by the time I settled in after arriving, it was already dark.”
“They haven’t given you a proper tour yet?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll appreciate what they’ve done here. Men who visit typically do.”
He didn’t miss the edge to her tone.
“And that’s what you assume I am, then? A man like them?”
Valeria’s gaze darted to his.
Chris arched a brow, challenging her to say whatever was on her mind instead of alluding to it. Absolutes, he could work with. Hints, not so much.
“You know what my husband is—what he does,” Valeria said quietly, “and because I know why you’re here, to make a deal with him, there’s only one thing for me to assume about you, too.”
“Shame you think that, then.”
Valeria’s throat jumped when she swallowed. “Why is that?”
“Appearances are deceiving. And bad men don’t always do bad things. Sometimes, they do good things, too.”
“Don’t they?”
How simple that question seemed.
The answer was anything but.
Unfortunately, Chris’s life had taught him that no matter what he said here, she would find it most difficult to believe him. Because her experiences were not the same as his. Her life taught her one thing, and that’s what she understood.
It was his duty to show her differently.
That was the thing, right?
Actions spoke louder than words.
“We’ll see,” he said.
Valeria opened her mouth as though she would reply, but all it took was Abril coming back out from the rear of the house for her to quiet. Abril came down the stairs, a glass of water for Chris in one hand, and a refill of wine in the other for her.
“Thank you,” he said.
Abril nodded. “You know, in my experience, it’s always what motivates a man that determines whether his actions are justifiable. What do you think, Chris?”
Huh.
Seems someone had been listening.
He smirked. “I would say you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
• • •
Although Chris was in Mexico with the Lòpez cartel for a reason, he could still appreciate and respect the set up they had here. The ranch itself was almost a small community. In the middle, a cluster of homes sat in a large circle, all connected by pathways and gravel driveways. Another two barns also sat further in the property, along with stables.
For horses, apparently.
The cocaine, the man showing Chris around explained, they made and packaged it for shipping in Colombia where the cartel had gained control over production. They moved the substance between several locations—the ranch being one—to store before a smuggle run, which was a different story, and something Chris would get details on later.
“It’s important,” the man—Jesús, was it?—said as they stepped out of the house that Chris would use for his stay, “that the cartel maintains its control over territory, and distribution. Territory is the issue we’ve been having for a while, because of the García organization.”
Right.
The cartel that controlled the lower portion of Mexico, and for a while, had tried to take control of the production in Colombia.
“We’re working on that,” the man said before Chris could ask further.
He wasn’t that interested in the cartel, or their business. Cartels were complex criminal organizations, but he had a good enough grasp on the details to know how they worked. The lengths the family went to in order to maintain their privacy and control fascinated him, but he didn’t really care.
Yet, he had to pretend to.
Fun.
Chris’s entire purpose here rested on a ruse, and him being able to keep it up. The longer he could stay in the Lòpezs’ presence, gather as much information about their lives and business, the better chance he had at getting Valeria and her daughter out of here alive. So, he continued to ask questions, and allow the man to take him around the ranch when what he wanted was a goddamn nap.
As far as the Lòpez family, and Jorge, understood ... Chris was here because his father was anal on every single detail in business. Most, if not all, organizations would not be willing to indulge the demands Gian had made for this deal, but because the Lòpez cartel needed something from the Guzzis—the arrangement for a cocaine supply between them would be in the hundreds of millions a year—they would play along.
But for how long?
That was the real question.
As they walked along a pathway leading toward the biggest house on the property, something in the corner of his eye caught Chris’s attention. A familiar woman came out of the stables with a saddle in her hands that she tossed onto a fence to hold it up before turning back to disappear inside the building.
Valeria.
For a second, Chris felt as though he could breathe a little better. Sure, he had seen her the night before, but he hadn’t felt safe asking her questions about her safety here when prying ears were nearby. All week, he had worried about that woman, and what might happen to her. It left him with little sleep, and more restless nights than he cared to admit. And when he slept, images of her beautifully sad face filled his mind.
Not that he needed to be dreaming about that woman at all, or how she had looked with her curves filling out a dress, heels to show off long, golden legs, and black hair pin-straight falling down her back. Because no, he didn’t need those images in his mind alongside the concern he already had for her.