Chapter 8 - MY BROTHER'S FACE
Rafael looked terrible.
That was my first thought.
My second was that I wanted to hit him.
I did.
My palm cracked across his cheek.
He didn't stop me.
So I hit him again.
That one hurt my hand.
“Okay,” he said.
“No, not okay.”
“I deserved that.”
“You deserve worse.”
“Probably.”
He switched on a battery lantern.
Twelve years had carved lines into his face.
His hair was thinner.
His eyes were the same.
That made me angrier.
“Why were you watching Camila?”
“To keep other people from getting close.”
“You were the other people.”
He looked away.
“I know.”
I showed him the photos.
“Did you take these?”
“Some.”
“Who took the others?”
“Ignacio's people.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because Ignacio thinks I have his ledger.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
“Give it to him.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because it proves he stole millions from clients.”
“I don't care.”
“You should. Some of the money went through your company.”
I stared at him.
“My company?”
“Your campaign vendors.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Rafael had not only used my name.
He had contaminated my work.
Years of it.
“What did you do?”
“I needed clean invoices.”
I stepped back.
“You could destroy my career.”
“I was going to fix it.”
“Stop saying that.”
He went quiet.
Good.
Then I asked the question that mattered.
“Is Camila in danger right now?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
I appreciated it and hated him more.
“From Ignacio?”
“From anyone who thinks she can make me move.”
“Then move.”
“I already offered the ledger.”
“And?”
“Ignacio doesn't believe I gave him everything.”
“Did you?”
Rafael smiled weakly.
“No.”
I laughed.
A horrible, exhausted laugh.
“You are unbelievable.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that too.”
He handed me a small black notebook.
“The original.”
I stared at it.
“You're giving it to me?”
“No.”
He pulled it back.
“I'm showing you why this isn't simple.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“Nothing about my daughter is complicated. You give them what they want.”
He yanked free.
“You think they'll leave her alone after they know she works?”
The words hit me.
“Works?”
“As leverage.”
I felt sick.
Rafael lowered his voice.
“This doesn't end by paying them.”
“Then how?”
“We make the ledger useless.”
Before I could ask, sirens sounded outside.
Rafael froze.
“You called police?”
“No.”
He killed the lantern.
A second later, metal screamed.
Someone was cutting through the storage door.
Rafael shoved the notebook into my coat.
“Back exit.”
“There is no back exit.”
He kicked a thin plywood wall.
It cracked.
“You've gotten very corporate.”
He kicked again.
“Help me.”
I did.
We broke into the neighboring unit.
Behind us, the storage door burst open.
A flashlight beam swept through the dark.
Then a voice shouted:
“Mariana! Police!”
I started to turn.
Rafael grabbed me.
“That's not police.”
May you like
A gunshot punched through the plywood beside my head.
