Page 65 of Cartel King

She sighs, and it’s soul deep.

“I promise you’ve heard of me. I’mthataccountant.”

“The Ball Buster?”

“That’s what you call me?”

“That’s the nicest thing everyone calls you.”

That spews from my mouth before I can keep it to myself. She grimaces.

“Wait. You were supposed to have died two days ago.”

“That’s what Ignacio was supposed to think. I didn’t die, but that persona did. I’ve died at least twenty times.”

“You have a unique identity for each job.”

“Sometimes I use the same one more than once. Ignacio knew me as Emilia Messina.”

I run my hands through my hair. This is a lot to take in.

“You’re why the deal went through. You knew I was the customer.”

“I didn’t until I got to Rio. I hoped that when you found out—because I knew you would—you’d see it as a gift not a deception.”

Her shoulders round as she leans away. My hands on her hips pull her closer to me.

“You’re lucky Tommaso has someone watching out for you. How’d you find a decoy?”

“I banked on finding someone at the airport who’d want to make a little extra money, and I did. The woman agreed to wear some of my clothes and board the jet. I knew Ignacio would send someone. The bullet grazed the decoy woman’s arm, but Tommaso’s men at the plane spread the word I died. She’s somewhere with her family with enough money to start over.”

“Thank God Tommaso sent enough men with you. Someone killed the hitman.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver as she stares at me. It’s intense. It’s even more than when we talked about her letting her publicist go. She was all business then. Now…

“Ellie?”

“I killed the man sent to kill me. Enrique, I didn’t know which one he was, but one man at that table was your nephew. Nothing could have made me shoot him. He would’ve shot me before I could do that to you.”

My ears buzz. My head feels like there’s cotton wool between my ears. I can’t process a thought. I think I might be sick. I suck in air through my nose as a lump rises in my throat. My heart hasn’t raced like this in years.

Ellie says nothing. She watches me. Cautious but unrepentant.

“You’re the mercenary no one’s ever found. Alejandro thought you were a young man.”

“I wore all black with a bulky coat to go over my backpack. I didn’t get the coat back on before I left the storage room, but the van was waiting for me. From a distance, I probably looked like a skinny guy in his twenties.”

“He could’ve killed you. He would’ve if he’d been closer.”

“I know.”

“You spared him.”

“I told you I didn’t know which nephew he is, but I knew he’s one of them. He could be your son—you look so much alike.”

“You killed seven men at that table. Alejandro said each was a clean shot. You picked them off, saving Benicio for second to last. You made Ignacio watch everything slip away before you killed him.”

I think for a moment.

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