Page 71 of Dangerous Seduction

But it wasn’t the presence of security guards that set my pulse racing – it was their tattoos, an unmistakable insignia, a symbol that I’d seen many times before.

“Marco,” I hissed, my voice a taut whisper. “Those aren’t my father’s men. That’s Javier Cruz’s crew.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he processed the implications of my words. “You’re sure?”

I nodded grimly. “Positive. I’d recognize that tattoo anywhere.”

A silent understanding passed between us, a realization that this was no mere coincidence. Javier Cruz’s men, moonlighting as security guards in my father’s own building – it was a not-so-subtle reminder that my father was up to something big.

As the guards moved on, their footsteps fading into the distance, Marco signaled the all-clear, and we carefully hauled ourselves back through the window and into the relative safety of the room.

“What the hell is going on, Dante?” Marco demanded, his voice a low growl as he scanned the space for any signs of tampering. “Since when does your old man let Cruz’s goons roam free in his own backyard?”

I shook my head, my mind whirring with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. “I don’t know, hermano,” I admitted. “But I intend to find out. Something important must be hidden here if Cruz’s men are watching.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, we turned our attention to scouring every nook and cranny of the building for anything that might shed light on the unholy alliance between my father and Javier Cruz.

As we searched, Marco couldn’t resist one last jab. “You know, for a guy who owns a nightclub and a penthouse on the top floor of a skyscraper, you sure are a wimp when it comes to heights.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up and keep looking.”

Our banter was cut short as we stumbled upon a hidden panel in the wall, cleverly disguised to blend in with the surrounding decor. Marco’s nimble fingers made quick work of the lock, and as the panel swung open, we found ourselves face to face with a sight that made my blood run cold.

Hidden behind the false wall, nestled in the shadows like a serpent coiled and ready to strike, was a sight I’d never expected – a fully equipped methamphetamine lab, complete with rows of glassware and bubbling beakers filled with noxious-looking chemicals.

The moment I stepped inside, the pungent chemical stench hit me. My eyes watered at the assault, but I pushed through the discomfort, taking in the sight that unfolded before me.

I counted fifteen large barrels, each one filled with a bubbling, fluorescent green liquid that churned and swirled, sending noxious fumes wafting through the air. Beakers, flasks, and other lab equipment were strewn across every available surface, along with plastic bags filled with a white, crystalline substance that I recognized all too well.

“What the actual fuck?” The words escaped me in a stunned whisper as the truth washed over me. “A meth lab?”

I felt the air leave my lungs in a rush, a wave of disbelief crashing over me as I took in the scene before me. This wasn’t just some side hustle, some petty criminal enterprise – this was a full-blown meth operation, the kind of high-stakes game that could topple empires and leave entire cities in ruins.

“Madre de Dios,” Marco breathed, his eyes wide as he surveyed the lab. “Your old man has really gone off the deep end this time, hasn’t he?”

I could only nod, my throat constricted with a potent mix of anger and betrayal. All this time, my father had been keeping me in the dark, feeding me scraps of information while he plotted and schemed behind my back. And now, to discover that he had been working together with Javier Cruz, the very man who had disrespected me and threatened everything I held dear – it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Despite my father’s deception, I felt a new resolve taking root, a steely determination that burned brighter than my anger.

“Marco,” I said, my voice low. “Get the camera. We’re going to document every inch of this place.”

My friend didn’t hesitate, springing into action with the same efficiency that had seen us through countless operations. Together, we methodically photographed and cataloged every piece of evidence, every damning detail that could link my father to this illicit operation.

As we worked, my mind raced, piecing together the puzzle that had eluded me for so long. It all made sense now – the reason my father had been so adamant about protecting Javier Cruz, the reason he had refused to let me go after the snake for his disrespectful behavior. They were partners, co-conspirators in a dangerous and twisted game.

With pictures taken of every detail, we found a fire escape and hightailed it out of there, as fast as we could. The clock was ticking, the guards were bound to come back to check the room again.

I tried to focus on the present, to concentrate on not slipping on the fire escape as my shoes gripped the metal stairs with every step, but my mind kept wandering back to that fucking meth lab. Dammit. How could I have been so blind, so fucking clueless? Right under my damn nose...

“Take it easy there, hermano. Breathe,” Marco called out, two steps above me. “We’re almost home free.”

I did, the cool night air filling my lungs. Freedom tasted sweet, even though the reality of it all was bound to come crashing down sooner rather than later. I could feel it in my bones, the stakes getting higher with each passing minute.

Finally, we scrambled into the car, the engine roaring to life as we tore out of the parking lot, tires squealing. We didn’t say a word for a few minutes, both of us lost in our own thoughts. But eventually, my buddy just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Damn, Dante. Who would’ve thought the old man was running a damn meth lab in the office building?”

I gripped the wheel tighter, the muscle in my jaw twitching. “I know, man. It’s a whole new level of fucked up.”

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