2
Florida
“Laila, your scheme isn’t going to work,” Victor snarled as they approached the garage on the outskirts of the racetrack shortly before dawn the following day.
Her heart stopped. Had Victor already figured out she was playing him? “I do not know what you mean.”
He huffed. “This scam to take Geraldo Montilla’s Ferrari… If I want to unseat him, stealing his car does nothing except piss him off.”
She let out a silent sigh of relief that Victor hadn’t caught on to her ploy. “My plan will achieve everything you want while making him come to you—if you do not mismanage this. But in order to take down Montilla, you must first send him—and everyone—a signal that you are a force to be reckoned with. Stealing his most prized possession will do that. After all, he paid fifty million dollars for it.”
“Fucking insane.” Victor shook his head, as if he could not fathom spending that kind of cash on a mere car.
“The money for such toys will soon be yours.” If Montilla does not kill you first. “You simply have to find the cojones to take it.”
“You already know how big my balls are.” He glared her way. “But poking the bear will only make Montilla angrier and more difficult to overthrow.”
She pretended to heave a long-suffering sigh, but for once, Victor’s logic wasn’t totally wrong. Very little else he’d said since they’d left Trees’s house and driven all night down the highway before finally reaching this Florida racetrack had. At least he’d lived up to his word and kept his hands to himself. She could probably thank the guns she kept constantly at hand for that.
“Montilla will not recognize the threat until it is far too late. He will fixate on the loss of his precious car. He will devote his resources to recovering it. While he is distracted, you will make your next moves to dominating the cartel.”
“Using that bargaining chip you keep talking about?”
“Exactly.” Either Victor would kill Montilla while rescuing Kimber or the Edgingtons would follow him in and handle them both. Either way, her family would be safer.
Victor merely grunted as if he wasn’t convinced. “I need to know more about it.”
“After you have stolen the car. The bargaining chip I speak of will be of no use until Montilla’s attention is diverted. Then… Well, you are more ruthless.” That might be true. “And smarter.” But that wasn’t. “You will succeed.”
In trying to fabricate a supposed plan for Victor to take over Tierra Caliente, she’d read online that the driver Montilla hired for this classic car race yesterday had fallen hours before the start and broken his arm. Montilla had been forced to withdraw his 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO from yesterday’s competition. It seemed likely the drug lord would transport his ridiculously expensive car and fly back to Mexico today, so she and Victor had only this small window of opportunity.
They tiptoed closer to the garage that housed the prized vehicle. When Victor peeked around the corner of the storage unit, he quickly reared back, plastering himself against the side of the building. “Fuck. There are two armed guards standing outside. We did not plan for that.”
A problem she hadn’t foreseen…and probably should have. “Are they male?”
“Yes. And big. I will have to kill them.” He reached for his gun.
That horrified Laila. The last thing she wanted was for anyone else to be hurt.
She grabbed Victor’s arm and held him back. “We cannot leave bodies. That will alert the local authorities and bring attention we do not need. Let me handle them. Once they are distracted, you take the car and drive it to the U-Haul. Then it will be yours.”
He scowled. “You will distract both of them? At once?”
“How many times did I handle you and Hector together?” she snapped, then wished she’d held her tongue. She didn’t want to remind him of all the times he had violated her. She also didn’t want to remind him of his dead brother. Being careful and strategic was key.
He leered her way. “Many. You were our favorite toy.”
“Now I am your partner,” she reminded him, reaching under her tank top to unfasten her bra. After some finagling, she pulled the undergarment free through the side and shoved it at Victor. “Hold this and watch for your opportunity.”
With a deep breath, she wriggled her shorts down to her hip bones and folded the legs up to her coochie. Most of her midriff was bare, and the cool breeze had stiffened her nipples. Hopefully, distracting the two sentries wouldn’t require revealing more skin than that. She really didn’t want to get naked with either of them…but she’d been desperate enough to do worse in the past.
Shoving the thought aside, she swayed around the side of the building. On the alert, both men zipped their gazes in her direction. Security lights from above illuminated their faces. They were under thirty and strapping. On the left, the blond man with an unkempt beard drew his weapon as he looked her up and down. On the right, a black man with arms bulging from his wifebeater followed suit.
“Hola, gentlemen. Do not shoot. I am lost. I could find no one else to ask for directions at this hour.” She pressed a hand to her chest to draw attention to her nipples as she approached the garage. “But perhaps you can help me? I am driving to Miami. I have no GPS, and I cannot find the freeway. You will help me, yes?”
The blond man gulped and nodded, his stare glued to her breasts.
The other one smiled as if he fully intended to help her—out of her clothes. Then he holstered his weapon and slipped an arm around her middle. “Sure, baby. There’s a guard shack around the corner and—”
“But your friend. We cannot leave him alone.” She looked back at the blond guy to find him staring at her ass. “Come closer. I am cold. Will you help keep me warm?”
Immediately, he tucked his gun away and zipped to her side, plastering himself against her body. Laila shoved down a shudder, wondering why so many men were foolish enough to fall for such tactics. They were transparent. Obvious. Ridiculous.
Because too many men thought with their chiles, rather than their brains.
“That is better.” She sent them both inviting smiles. “What are you guarding? If you have been assigned to protect it, I am sure it is very important.”
“It’s a car,” the bearded man answered. “The most expensive one ever registered for this race.”
“Oh? Is it yours?”
The black man snorted. “He wishes.”
“I do. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He eyed her up and down again. “Except you.”
Laila pretended to blush and flirt. “Can you show me?”
The blond guy shook his head. “The doors are supposed to stay locked.”