Matilda knew how to send a message.
A man named Hector Ruiz had been stealing from her—siphoning off shipments, undercutting her deals, and testing how far he could go.
She let him believe she hadn’t noticed.
Then she sent it to him.
The meeting took place in one of her clubs, a sleek, dimly lit lounge filled with the city’s most dangerous figures. The music pulsed low, a steady heartbeat beneath the tension in the room.
Hector arrived with three of his men, all cocky smiles and false confidence.
Matilda was already waiting, seated in a leather booth, a glass of whiskey in front of her. Nico stood nearby, arms crossed.
Hector slid into the seat across from her, grinning. "Matilda. I was surprised to hear from you."
Matilda smiled back. "Were you?"
He shrugged. "You’ve been busy. Taking over a city,……
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