Page 112 of Cartel King

“Daddy, I know. You explained the button and everything else while you showed me the room downstairs. I grew up in a house with a panic room, and I raised my kids in a house with one. I have one in the house I live in now.”

“You do?”

“Of course.”

“Where is it?”

“The door is at the back of the hall closet. There are stairs taking you down to the basement and directly through a reinforced door to a soundproof, concrete room. The boys and I built it when I moved in.”

“I was going to say that definitely wasn’t part of the original blueprints.”

“Even a turnkey property needs some personal touches.”

“I hate leaving you here, but I prefer you and Constantine be here while I’m gone.”

God bless José. He’s one of my most senior guards and every animal’s favorite person. He slipped over to Ellie’s car and got Constantine out while we dealt with our unwanted guests. He took the dog around back and kept him occupied. Though even José wasn’t enough to keep Constantine’s attention when Ellie walked out to the patio.

The poor dog has glued himself to Ellie ever since he raced over to her. He nearly knocked her over when he reared back onto his hind legs, but he was so gentle when he put his paws on her shoulders and rested his head on one of them. He truly hugged her. He’s closer to my height when he stands up like that. He’s a few inches taller than Ellie who’s about five-six.

Between a panic room off the butler’s pantry and the one up here in my bedroom, and her dog, I’m calm enough to leave. I need to get to my sister, but I couldn’t leave Ellie without being certain she’s safe. I want to tell her to lock herself in one of these rooms until I get back, but I won’t keep her a prisoner. I trust my men, but thinking Matías betrayed me is fucking with my head. I’m less trusting than I was.

“Daddy, you’re going to keep everyone waiting. I’m certain they’re all dressed and geared up now.”

“I know.”

We step back into my bedroom, and I push the clothes in my closet back into place. I rush to change into a fresh set of black utility pants, black turtleneck, and black boots. I glance over my shoulder and find Ellie staring at my ass.

“What?” She sounds completely unrepentant.

“Come here, little girl.”

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her in a way I will never do in public. It threatens to wipe all thoughts of my duty to my family from my mind.

That’s a first.

We rest our foreheads together when we come up for air, then I kiss hers before pressing her head to my chest.

“Ellie, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I need you to know I will do anything to get to you. I have very few limits to begin with, but there’s nothing I won’t do to be with you. I need you to understand how deeply I care about you.”

She leans back, and our gazes meet.

“Don’t make me come looking for you, Enrique. There’s nothing I won’t do to bring you home.”

That’s not hyperbole with Ellie. I knew what she could do before seeing her tonight. But that wasn’t the same as witnessing it. I hated every moment she was in danger, but I can’t help how impressed I am. She’s a professional through and through, so I remind myself of that as I lead her back downstairs.

Almost everyone is waiting for us, including Luis. I spotted him as I took Ellie upstairs. It surprises me to see Luciana and Margherita coming out of the kitchen. I glance over at Luis who frowns.

My sisters approach us, and I sense Ellie’s wariness.

“Elodie, we wait together when we can, so we have each other. We didn’t think you should have to be alone.”

Margherita offers her a glass ofguaro, a favorite Colombian drink made of sugarcane and distilled spirits that looks a bit like brandy. Its official name isaguardiente—fiery water—since it’s nearly thirty percent alcohol.

Ellie sniffs it, then smiles. She raises her glass to Margherita and Luciana, who join them.

“Salud.” Health.

She offers the toast before downing the drink in one swallow. I expect her to cough or shiver or at least curl her nose up at the anise-tasting liquid that’s surelyburning a hole the length of her throat. I hate the stuff. She hands the glass back to Margherita without batting an eye.

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