Carlos — POV
The bar was already alive when I reached the counter—music pounding, bodies pressed too close, laughter spilling into corners where privacy didn't exist. I kept my eyes forward and slid onto a stool.
It took less than ten seconds.
A man dropped into the seat beside me. Tall, confident, well-dressed. Good-looking enough to pass—until he winked.
"First time here?" he asked.
I forced a polite smile. "Yeah."
His eyes lingered, slow and deliberate. I stood, instinctively creating distance.
"Hey, don't go," he said quickly. "Let me at least get you a drink. On me."
So… staff?
"No, thanks."
"Then how about I take you somewhere quieter?"
His hand brushed my lower back.
That was it.
I caught his wrist and stepped away. "Absolutely not. Nice meeting you."
I didn't wait for a response. I headed straight for the restroom, heart pounding.
This was a mistake.
Inside, I locked the door and leaned over the sink, staring at my reflection. The wig. The makeup. The crop top that barely qualified as clothing.
"Santiago," Luis's voice crackled through my earpiece. "Status?"
I gripped the edge of the counter. "I don't think I'm built for this place."
"Don't be dramatic," Jam chimed in. "Just act the part. Hurry up."
I exhaled. "Yeah. Right."
Then I saw her.
Elena appeared in the mirror behind me, arms crossed, grin unapologetic.
"So you've been hiding abs," she said casually.
I tugged at my top, trying—and failing—to pull it lower. "Not now."
She stepped closer, eyes roaming like she owned the view.
"Let me check—"
I swatted her hand away. "Don't."
"Wow," she laughed. "Protective."
The wig slipped into my face again. I fixed it, irritation written all over my movements.
She laughed harder. "Relax. You look good."
"Don't push it," I warned.
She absolutely pushed it.
"Santiago!"
I nearly jumped when Jenna stormed into the restroom. "I've been looking for you. What are you doing in here?"
I glanced around. Elena was gone.
"Nothing," I said. "Let's move."
As we walked, Jenna leaned in. "Word is the drugs are upstairs. Second floor. Dark room."
"You sure?"
"Not yet. That's why we're checking."
She pulled me along.
"Husband—"
"Jesus!" I hissed as Elena suddenly appeared at my side again.
"Stop messing around," I muttered. "This isn't a joke."
"I'm trying to help," she shot back.
"I don't need it."
"Fine." She crossed her arms. "Don't talk to me."
And then she vanished.
"Santiago," Jenna whispered sharply. "Focus."
We stopped in front of a heavy door. She nodded.
I pulled the gun from where it was hidden beneath the skirt and kicked the door open.
Jackpot.
Stacks of cash. Small plastic packets scattered across the table. Seven men froze mid-conversation.
"Police!" Jenna shouted. "Hands up!"
I moved fast, forcing them into a corner. "Luis, we're in."
Sirens followed not long after—shouting, footsteps, backup flooding the room.
"Well damn," someone laughed behind me. "Didn't know you had range."
I didn't answer. I just breathed.
Outside, Jenna nudged my shoulder. "Ignore them. You did good."
I barely heard her. My eyes were already searching.
Elena was nowhere.
Back at the apartment, I finally found her—sitting on my bed, arms crossed, expression dark.
I sat beside her, pulling off my shoes. "What's wrong now?"
"Nothing," she said.
"That tone says otherwise."
Silence.
"Is this about earlier?"
She turned away. "What happened earlier?"
I sighed. "Are you mad?"
She didn't answer.
"Don't talk to me."
"Fine," I said. "I need to change."
She rolled her eyes and stormed out. "I'm leaving. Don't look for me."
I stared at the door after her.
"Unbelievable," I muttered.