“I’ll take you later,” he said easily. “We’re near Volcán El Valle. The town has a small one. Did you eat?”
“No,” she said stiffly. “Sally and I were discussing the food situation in town. She made it seem like there was not enough for everyone.”
He glanced down at Sally, who flushed, then back at Gabriella.
“Ay,tica,” he said with mock resignation. “It’s not as bad as she made it to be … I’ll feed you.”
He gestured her forward, ignoring the trailing puppy dog eyes of Sally. “Let’s go.”
And Gabriella followed—angry, jealous, exhausted—playing her part, even as the lines between survival and something far more dangerous blurred.
CHAPTER 14
MATEO
Gabriella’s newly adopteddiva queenpersona spread through the camp faster than Mateo had anticipated.
By nightfall, everyone knew about her sharp tongue, her impossible standards, and her complete lack of fear in speaking her mind. The men avoided her with exaggerated caution, muttering warnings to one another as if she were feral rather than furious. A few looked intrigued until she snapped at them, loud and unapologetic, and they retreated like scolded dogs.
It helped that there were warm beds now. Crates of beer had been cracked open with celebratory ease. And there were willing women—women who knew these men, who belonged here, who were more than happy to redirect attention away from the volatile American scientist.
Gabriella was no longer the most interesting thing available.
Which was exactly the point.
Long tables had been dragged together beneath hanging lanterns. Families filled the benches alongside armed men—laughter spilling freely, plates passed hand to hand. It felt like a festival more than a criminal stopover. A reminder of why Mateo struggled sometimes in his role. These people weren’t monsters.Just survivors who’d been handed terrible options and made the best of them.
Gabriella sat across from him, her plate overflowing. She made no attempt to hide her pleasure as she ate, moaning softly at the flavors, eyes fluttering closed in exaggerated appreciation. It should’ve annoyed him.
Instead, it unraveled him.
She licked her spoon clean after finishing a sweet dish one of the elders had prepared—a syrupy dessert made in celebration of a son returning home. The pink flick of her tongue was slow, deliberate, utterly unaware of the damage it did.
Or maybe she knew the way it affected him.
Mateo tore his gaze away, jaw tight as he shifted, his pants now tight.You deserve this, he reminded himself. Every second of it.
A familiar presence pressed close to his side, reminding him he was not alone.
Sally’s fingers drifted, light and possessive, brushing the front of his pants as she leaned in. Her sundress hugged her body and pressed her breasts up for the male gaze. Her voice was low, purring in words, meant only for him.
“You look like you could use a recharge, Mateo,” she commented, her Spanish lyrical and delicate.
He stiffened—not from desire, but from habit. From years of playing a role he’d never been allowed to refuse.
Sally was José’s daughter. Years ago, early in his cover, he’d agreed to be her lover. Influence mattered. Connections mattered more. Sometimes the job required being what someone needed him to be. With Sally’s quiet approval and her father’s blind eye, Mateo had clawed his way from expendable muscle to trusted leadership.
But affection had never followed. It had been fun in the earlier years for both Sally and him. They both knew there wasa powerplay that neither of them were in control of in relation to her father. The last time he was with her, he had told her “no more” and excused himself to sleep amongst his men.
José, on the other hand, liked the arrangement. Preferred it. From his place in the background, it made sense—cemented loyalty, reinforced control. A future built on leverage and blood ties. The frustrating part was that, despite being in charge of this group, it was José who spoke directly with Obscura. He was the middleman for everything since he had been with the group the longest. Mateo had to relay his plans and wait for José to confirm if things were a go with headquarters. And Mateo had almost accomplished their meeting to bring them down when everything went wrong.
Sally’s touch lingered, hands neatly manicured and polished pink, as she tried to stroke him through his pants. She must have visited town recently, and he made a note to ask her about it. He glanced down to see her smile, confident and entitled.
Across the table, Gabriella laughed at something one of the local women said, emerald eyes bright, posture relaxed in a way she hadn’t been since before the beach. She looked alive, much like she used to when they took their beach walks. A time he missed greatly.
It was then, Mateo realized with a sick twist in his gut, that the lie he’d been living might cost him something real.
“Sally,” he said slowly, gently pulling her hand away. “We shouldn’t.”