Page 139 of Jagger's Remorse
He moves to the window, and I notice how he braces himself against the frame. "I'm dying,mija."
The words hang between us like a blade.
"Tío—"
"Cancer. Pancreatic. Three months, maybe six if God has a sense of humor." He turns back to me, backlit by the desert sun. "Which means decisions must be made."
"About succession."
"About tests." He presses a button on his desk. "Bring him in."
The doors open.
Guards drag in a man I recognize—Felipe Herrera, one of Eduardo's most trusted lieutenants.
He's beaten, bloody, but still breathing.
His expensive suit is torn, revealing cartel tattoos across his chest.
"Felipe has been skimming," Eduardo explains conversationally. "Small amounts, but theft is theft. Handle it."
A test. Everything with Eduardo is a test.
I study Felipe, see the fear in his eyes.
Once, that might have mattered. Once, I might have hesitated.
"Please," Felipe gasps through broken teeth. "I have children—three daughters. They need me?—"
"So did my father." I pull my knife, the one my father gave me. "Did that stop anyone?"
"I'll pay it back! Double! Triple! Just?—"
I move without hesitating in the slightest bit.
The blade finds his carotid, quick and clean.
Felipe drops, blood pooling on Eduardo's expensive Persian carpet, his final breath a wet gurgle.
"Good," Eduardo approves. "No hesitation. No weakness. You've learned well."
"I had excellent teachers."
"Yes. Diego, may he rot. Pablo, may he rot slower." He returns to his desk, stepping carefully around Felipe's spreading blood. "You killed them both."
Not a question.
"They outlived their usefulness."
"As we all do, eventually." He opens a drawer, pulls out a thick folder. "My will. My territories. My connections. All going to you."
"Why?"
"Because you're not just a killer,mija. You're a builder. You took your revenge and turned it into power. That's what the family needs." He slides the folder across. "Killing is easy. Any fool with a gun can destroy. But building? Creating something that lasts? That takes vision."
My throat tightens unexpectedly.
It's the first time anyone has seen me as more than a weapon since Papa died.
