Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Emily didn't say a word as the plane departed for New Mexico. She'd been too wrecked to form a coherent sentence.

She'd thought Ed had died, but it had just been another of Charge's elaborate lies. A setup. To see Ed again had been a shock to the system. To find him on death's doorstep in Elonzo's basement had left her wordless. Now, he was either dead for real or wishing he were.

All that aside, what had Elonzo really hoped to get out of presenting Ed like a gift? Her allegiance? Her gratitude?

"So, you said you'd tell me why I'm really here. Unless I didn't pass your final test." She looked at Elonzo, who sat across the aisle.

"You passed."

Yeah, she'd figured. Otherwise, she'd probably be at the bottom of the ocean right now. "What will happen to Ed?" she asked.

"Do you really care?"

"No. Just as long as he never gets free."

"He will not," Elonzo said.

She hoped to God he was telling the truth. "So?"

Elonzo bit his lower lip and checked his phone before setting it upside down on the seat beside him. "You know me as the Heroin King, but that is a front."

She tried not to laugh. "So you're not a narco."

"I am, but the role is not so dissimilar to Sampson's. It is a position, and I am merely the CEO of a company—one that doesn't exist on paper and never will. I am run by a board, like any other company. I answer to investors and stakeholders. I have power, but it is not a question of how many guns my men own, how deep my political reach is, or how much money I have in the bank. My power comes from being one of the few people capable of delivering results. Makes me difficult to replace."

She blinked, waiting for more.

He went on, "Which is why succession planning is something my stakeholders demand. Continuity of supply, of money, of the operation."

What was he getting at?

He added, "We have been screening individuals to help run various parts of the operation. Some are for immediate backfill. Some are part of the succession planning."

"This entire thing has been some sort of job interview? You have to be kidding." Yet it felt oddly familiar. Charge had done the exact same thing when she began working for him. Most of the situations he'd put her in had been staged to test her tolerance for stress, her ability to think under pressure, and her commitment to seeing things through even when faced with death. It was all just one big interview.

Elonzo replied, "The Colombian lost his hold on the border because he failed to recognize the world keeps evolving. Faster by the day. And this is a global business, bigger than semiconductors, social media, or rare metals. Drugs, sex, and anything illegal has been and always will be a lucrative business used to fuel elections, control governments, and influence powerful people. One could say this position makes me the most powerful man in the world, but at the end of the day, it is still just a business, and we are all replaceable—as it should be when dealing with an operation of this magnitude." He gazed out the window. "I want you to take over part of the operation."

"What?" What would make him think she'd want to join a crime syndicate? What made him think she'd be any good at it? Was he crazy? "I'm not interested, Elonzo. I'm surprised you'd even ask."

"You're perfect to run suite forty-five."

Her jaw dropped. That wasn't his to manage, so…

"I can tell by your expression that you haven't connected the dots yet."

"No," she replied.

"Controlled opposition. Those in power, like the governors along the border, must appear they are fighting the cartels and trying to keep evil at bay. That is why suite forty-five was created, to make local leaders believe something was being done behind the scenes. Then the group went rogue after Bernardo Castillo, the Colombian, was ousted, and they tried to take us down for real. They never had a chance."

She stared ahead. So there was just an illusion of good and bad, a show put on for the sake of local leaders?

Emily felt like the floor had dropped out. "I don't believe you."

"You do not have to, but your fate will be voted on by the board tonight."

"Elonzo, I don't know if you're telling the truth, but if there is a drop of kindness in that cold heart of yours, you will help me disappear. I don't want anything to do with your world or suite forty-five's. I just want to live—free from you and from them. Haven't I been through enough? Please, I'm begging you. Tell them I drowned or escaped or anything they'll believe. But I am not the woman for this job. I am not a killer, and today you saw it with your own eyes. I didn't have what it took to murder the one man who'd hurt me most in this world."

He stared ahead for a long moment.

Meanwhile, the dam broke inside her heart. "Please," she sobbed, "I don't want this. I'd rather die than kill for a living."

He drew a breath. "That is what makes you a good fit. We have no interest in cultivating an unstable organization run by cutthroats and criminals, though they do have their place among the lower ranks—those who are unaware of how things are really structured. We need trustworthy, solid individuals who understand the business and treat it as such—a business. We need individuals who have a certain reputation that lends authenticity and credibility on the street."

So they wanted her because she could pull off the role of Sampson while being an obedient little soldier behind the scenes? "No. I won't do it."

"Did you know," he said, "that you were thrown in the pot with Charge and the other operators to be eliminated? But I intervened after I read your profile. I saw myself in you, a survivor. A loyal, practical person capable of leading a business that is violent by nature and very few can handle. It is why you are still alive and the rest of the operators are either dead or will be soon."

It suddenly dawned on her that he'd known all along Charge was Sampson. He hadn't had to torture Flint or Olivia for the information. They were going to die either way.

"Elonzo, please…I don't want this."

He stared into her eyes. "Everyone answers to someone, Justine. Even me. It is out of my hands now."

"Then kill me. Here. Now. Because I'm done. I'm out."

He shook his head. "Just like you, I have lines. Admittedly, mine are few, but I do not kill without it serving a purpose."

She scrubbed her face with her hands. "I'm dead either way, Elonzo, because I won't go along."

"There is one other option," he said after a long moment.

"What?"

"You can work on this side of the line. With me. By my side. As my wife."

She froze, unable to understand.

He continued, "It would be for appearances' sake so that those in the lower rungs of the organization, who are unaware of the true structure, will trust you. But know that accepting the position would put you directly in line to succeed me should anything happen. You would be expected to learn the operation. There would be no way out, no turning back. The world will know you only as my wife, the wife of the world's biggest trafficker." He leaned back into his seat. "The upside is that you will have power and influence to make certain elements of the business disappear."

She frowned. "What…?"

He gave her a knowing look. "The stakeholders don't know everything that goes on, Justine. It's by design. And if you, say, decided to eliminate the people who are driving undesirable, less lucrative parts of the business, no one will complain as long as profits continue growing in other spaces. Black-market pharmaceuticals, especially in the cosmetics space, are doing quite well."

"You mean shitcan the sex trafficking?"

He shrugged.

Ohmygod . Her mind began clicking away, the pieces of the past few days sliding into place. "You knew I'd turn down suite forty-five, didn't you? That's really why you brought me to meet your family."

"You didn't grab the role of Sampson after Charge was captured. So, yes, I figured you'd turn it down. Many years ago, I did the same because I knew, like you do, that there is a good chance you will die in this business. Why accept a role with so little influence when the risk is so high? I aimed higher. Risk versus reward.

"And yes, I took you to meet my family because I wanted to see how you'd fit into my life." He closed his eyes, as if preparing to take a nap, like this was no big deal. "They do not know how things are run, so you had to be a believable match for me. You passed. They loved you."

She sat there speechless. Getting deeper was the opposite of what she wanted. It meant the door would close on any possibility of escaping this life. She would be linked to more crimes than she could count, which meant the people in power would own her. Of course, she would be in a position to collect dirt on them, too.

"Or," he added calmly, still relaxing in his seat, "you can take the role of controlled opposition, lead suite forty-five, and after a while, try your hand at disappearing. Of course, things here will continue as they are since I would have no motivation to rock the boat."

So get in the game and take power—make changes—or get out and live on the run. Only, there was no way out. There never had been. If she tried to walk away, they'd eventually find her and kill her. If she turned down these roles, they'd kill her.

And it wasn't like these people lacked the resources to track her down. It was why Charge had put her in the only place they wouldn't look: prison. Under her real name, which they couldn't connect to Emily. Charge had meant what he said when he'd claimed that hiding from these people wasn't easy.

But why would he attempt to kill her? Was he afraid of this very scenario? She still couldn't believe he'd taken a shot.

"What kind of marriage will it be?" she asked.

Elonzo opened his eyes. "I loved my wife. For me, there will be no other."

"So purely a business arrangement."

"I never said that."

"Why don't you try being explicit for once?" she said.

"We must put on the appearance of a happy couple. And I must also think of my daughters. They need a mother."

Oh. Oh…

"We will live, sleep, and eat together," he added. "No one on the outside can suspect that we are not in love."

"What about…sex?"

"I will leave that up to you—I'm not one to turn down a pretty woman. But if you are unfaithful in any way, even the appearance of it, I will have you killed."

She stared at him.

"Nothing personal," he said, "but I cannot protect what I love by appearing weak, and you will lose the respect of my men. They will never follow you."

End of succession plan.

She nodded slowly. "I understand."

"So you accept?"

"I need time to think about it."

He looked at his watch. "You have four hours."