Page 15 of Brutal Monster
"I used my father's letter opener." She demonstrates a quick, efficient movement with her butter knife. "He underestimated me.”
"Smart," I say, genuinely impressed. "Mine was less... elegant. I was sixteen. A rival family's son publicly challenged me. My father handed me his gun in front of everyone."
"Did you hesitate?"
"No." I met her gaze steadily. "I couldn't afford to."
Inez nods, and I catch a flicker of respect in her eyes. We understand each other in these moments—the clarity of survival, and the weight of first blood. There's no judgment between predators.
"I saw my father yesterday," she says, her voice dropping lower as our entrées arrive. "He wants the wedding in two weeks. In Tulum."
I raise an eyebrow. "That's... expedient."
"He's dying." She states it plainly, no emotion coloring the words. "Pancreatic cancer. And he wants to see me married before he goes."
I knew he was dying, but I didn’t think it was so imminent. Unfortunately, a dying patriarch means power in flux, and the circling vultures will only grow more desperate.
"Tulum," I repeat, testing the word. "Why there?"
"We have a compound on the coast. Private beach access, easily secured." Inez shrugs, as if the information is of little consequence. "My father loves the water. Says it reminds him of his childhood in Veracruz before he became... what he is now."
"I've never been to the Yucatán."
"It's beautiful. Ancient ruins in the jungle. Cenotes that go so deep no one knows where they end." For a moment, something almost like passion animates her features. "The compound sits on a cliff overlooking the Caribbean. The water is so blue it hurts your eyes."
I watch her as she speaks, noting how her guard drops slightly when discussing this place. Interesting.
"My father has arranged everything. The ceremony will be small, with only family and allies in attendance. A necessary formality to solidify our alliance before he's gone." She takes another sip of wine. "There will be no time for a honeymoon, of course. We both have businesses to run."
"We should make time." The words surprise me as much as they seem to surprise her.
She pauses, fork halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"At least a week, somewhere close." I lean back in my chair, studying her reaction. "Not immediately after the wedding. But soon. It would be expected, and expectations matter in our world."
"Expected by whom? Our people know what this marriage is."
"Our enemies don't. They'll be looking for cracks, signs that this alliance is merely paper-thin." I take a slow sip of wine. "Besides, I'd like to see more of Mexico than just meeting rooms and safe houses."
Inez studies me, her expression unreadable. "You're serious."
"I rarely joke about strategy, Inez.
"And that's all this is? Strategy?"
I meet her gaze steadily. "Would you believe me if I said it wasn't?"
Something shifts in her eyes - not softening, exactly, but recalculation. She sets down her fork.
"Three days," she counters. "After the dust settles from the wedding. We can stay at the compound. My father will be back in Mexico City by then for his treatments."
"Five days," I counter. "And not at the compound. Somewhere neutral."
A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. "Four days. There's a private villa further down the coast. Technically, it belongs to one of our shell corporations."
"Four days," I say. "I bring my security team and we travel somewhere close enough to easily return if necessary.”
"Four days," she agrees. "We both bring security, but they stay out of sight."
