Chapter 9 - The Rat's Gambit
Ruined men do not become noble; they become feral.
By Thursday night, the Lobo empire was completely dead. The dealerships were shuttered, their assets seized by the federal government and Victoria’s holding companies. Arturo Lobo had fled across the state border, hiding in a cheap motel while his credit cards were systematically canceled.
Only Matteo remained in the city.
Stripped of his family fortune, disowned by his father for bringing Victoria Montoya’s wrath upon their heads, and facing public humiliation, Matteo retreated into the only company that would still have him: the local dockside loan sharks and smugglers his father had secretly dealt with for years.
At 2:00 AM, my private phone—a secure burner device Victoria’s team had given me—lit up with an unknown number.
Against my better judgment, I answered.
"Lucia," Matteo’s voice hissed through the speaker. It was thick with cheap whiskey and trembling with a manic, dangerous edge I had never heard in him before. "You think you won, don't you? You think your criminal mother can just erase me?"
"Matteo, go to sleep," I said, my voice dead and emotionless. "Or go to the police. It's the only place you'll be safe."
"Safe?" He let out a ragged, unhinged laugh. "I don't have a penny left! My father left me with nothing! The banks took my car, the press is parked outside my apartment, and my mother is in a concrete cell! You ruined us, Lucia! You played the sweet, innocent orphan girl while sitting on a cartel empire!"
"Your mother swung a bat at our baby, Matteo," I said, gripping the phone tightly, feeling the old fury flare in my chest. "And you watched."
"She was defending our family name!" he screamed. "And now I'm going to take what's mine. That kid is a Lobo. You think your mother’s private army makes you untouchable? Arturo wasn't the only one who had friends on the water. I know people who don't give a damn about Victoria Montoya. Sign the non-disclosure agreements and release our frozen accounts, or you won't live to see that nursery painted."
May you like
The line went dead.
I stood in the center of the dark bedroom, my heart pounding, but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel panic. I felt a cold, calculating resolve that I knew had come directly from the woman sleeping down the hall.
