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This man, with his accent, Colombian features, and choice of drink… He was connected to her somehow Tate was certain of it

“I’h his hair “You said ah…gwar…dee…?”

“They don’t serve aguardiente here” Tate slid back into the booth, eyes on theway from Colombia, ese”

“It’s Matias” He held out a large hand in greeting

Never heard of hiers in silent rejection

With a sigh, Matias lowered his arm, ordered vodka, and sent the server away

“You’ve been taking care of someone extremely important to me” He sat across from Tate and rested a s to ratitude”

Caed to no one She never talked about her Colombian roots or her cartel connections, never mentioned any names from her past Except her dead sister She spoke of Lucia with a longing that trembled her pretty lips

Tate blanked his expression He didn’t know this man, didn’t trust the purpose of this visit

“You have feelings for her This, I know” Matias hardened his clean-shaved jaw, his accent thickening “Have you fucked her?”

Tate had been on his way to do just that Of all the nights for his relationship with Caht? Why now? He narrowed his eyes into slits of suspicion

“Answer me,” Matias said, his voice as black as his scowl

“I fuck a lot of women”

A lie Tate hadn’t had sex since…

His nude body in shackles

Van’s grunts Musky sweat Dry thrusts

Stretching, ripping, violating his dark opening

Blinding pain

S

ha shame

“That’s a no then” Matias visibly relaxed, briefly closing his eyes before whispering, “We both know that if you were fucking Camila Dias, there would be no other lovers”

A protective jolt of anger spiked through Tate’s veins “How do you know her?”

“We grew up together”

“That’s funny” Tate balled his hands on his lap “She’s never mentioned you”

“I don’t suppose she would” Regret clouded Matias’ eyes “I’m the one she calls to deal with the bodies”

Stunned by his candor, Tate flicked his attention around the quiet bar It was late, nearing closing time, and most of the patrons had shuffled holasses e in his direction They were out of hearing range

Near the exit, two … Water? Vodka? He hadn’t noticed them before

Black hair, dark complexions, and powerful physiques, they looked like they could be related to Matias The way they subtly watched every movement in the bar left zero doubt they cauards, most likely Camila’s cartel connections

Tate removed the phone from his pocket He didn’t want to alarm her or involve her in whatever this was, but he needed confirmation—