Page 11 of The Love Language of the Cartel

After landing in Cancun, I stood before the full-length mirror scrutinizing my reflection. The obsidian black dress I wore hugged my curves, projecting an image of sophisticated elegance. My long, jet-black hair was swept up in an intricate updo, exposing the warm caramel column of my neck. Diamond studs glittered in my ears—a gift from my father on my eighteenth birthday. I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick, the color of fresh blood. It was fitting, given what I was about to do.

“You ready, Demi?” Dominic’s gruff voice came from the doorway. “We need to be there in thirty minutes.”

I turned to face our family’s most trusted bodyguard with a slight smirk playing on my lips. “Born ready, D. Let’s go put the fear of God into this mothafucka.”

When I stepped off the jet, there was nothing but dirt and desert for as far as my eyes could see. My father arranged to have us picked up from the airport and carried directly to the meeting point with Councilman Reed.

The drive to the restaurant was tense with anticipation. I went over the plan in my head one last time, envisioning every possible scenario. Dominic’s presence in the car was reassuring—a solid, dependable anchor in the storm I was about to unleash.

“Remember,” I said as we pulled up to the valet stand, “you’re just here as a precaution. I need to handle this on my own.”

Dominic grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes scanning the area for potential threats. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me. Don’t hesitate to give the signal if things go south.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath to center myself. “It won’t come to that. But thank you.”

As I stepped out of the tinted black SUV, I felt the weight of expectations settle on my shoulders. This wasn’t just about proving myself to my father anymore. It was about carving out my place in the dangerous world I’d been born into and would likely inherit one day. Everyone knew me as his daughter, but I wanted to be known for so much more than that.

The maître d’ greeted me with a submissive nod, recognizing the power that exuded off me like a scented perfume. I was led to a secluded booth in the back, where Councilman Reed was already seated, nursing a glass of what looked like expensive tequila.

“Miss Malone.” He greeted me, rising to his feet with his lips pinched upward with tension. “What a pleasure to see you here. Up until earlier, I was expecting to meet your father.”

I slid into the booth, my eyes never leaving his. “I’m sure you were, Benjamin. Please sit down. We have so much to discuss.”

As he settled back into his seat, I saw the barely concealed disdain in his chocolate brown eyes. He was underestimating me, just as I’d hoped he would.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” I said. “Your recent demands are unacceptable. We had an agreement, and now you’re trying to change the terms. That doesn’t sit well with my family.”

His expression changed slightly. “Now see here, young lady. The risks I’m taking have increased. It’s only fair that my compensation reflects that.”

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Fair? Let’s talk about fairness, shall we? How fair would it be if certain photographs of you wining and dining that beautiful young intern from your office were to find their way to your wife or the mayor? Who am I kidding? Why stop there? Maybe we go straight to the Chicago Times,” I warned with malice.

The color drained from his face. “You’re b-bluffing,” he stammered, but I saw the fear in his eyes.

“Am I?” I pulled out my phone, scrolling through a series of images before turning the screen toward him. His eyes widened in shock when he saw a recent photo from his Mexico getaway of him and a much younger woman, who wasn’t his wife, French kissing and holding hands on the beach. “I assure you, Benjamin, this is just a taste of what we have on you.”

As I continued to lay out the evidence we’d gathered—the bribes, the affairs, the embezzlement—I noticed movement from the corner of my eye. A man seated across the restaurant at a secluded table was watching our exchange with undisguised interest, a smirk playing on his lips as I verbally eviscerated the corrupt official before me.

For a moment, I wondered who the hell he was. Some elite local getting his kicks from watching a few tourists from Chicago’s underbelly? Or perhaps a business official traveling for work, amused by what he assumed was a lover’s quarrel?

I pushed the thought aside, refocusing on Reed. “So, here’s how this is going to work,” I said, my tone dripping with ice. “You’re going to honor our original agreement. No changes, no additional demands. In return, we’ll continue to keep your dirty little secrets . . . well, secret.”

Benjamin’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re just like your father,” he muttered.

I felt a surge of pride at his words, even as I maintained my calm exterior. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Benjamin. Do we have an understanding?”

He nodded, defeated. “Yes, Miss Malone. The original terms stand . . .for now.”

I cut an icy glare at him. “Forever.”

As I wrapped up the meeting, laying out the specifics of our continued arrangement, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction. I’d done it. I’d proven that I was more than just a golden bargaining chip in my father’s games. I had my own power behind my name.

Yet, even as I basked in my victory, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The man across the restaurant was still there, his dark eyes following my every move. There was something about him that set my nerves on edge, a dangerous aura that both thrilled and unnerved me.

Who is he? And why won’t he stop looking at me?

Our eyes locked in a brief moment, and an unexpected shiver ran down my spine. There was something in his gaze—a mix of amusement and intensity—that made my breath catch. I quickly looked away, focusing back on Benjamin.

“Remember, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of the Malone family. There will be hell to pay if you even think about double-crossing us.”

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