A warning made in blood

Nina

“So anyway, after I win the case, I’m going to get promoted and start earning some real money,” Bryan said.

I nodded, a polite smile plastered on my face. Lifting my glass, I hid a yawn behind it and silently prayed for a meteor to hit the restaurant. I’d rather be dead than listen to another one of my date’s stories. He’d spent the entire evening talking about himself and hadn’t asked me a single question.

I had never been this bored in my entire life.

Why the hell had I even agreed to this?

Oh, right—because I’d blurted out to a gang leader that I had a date and was too embarrassed not to follow through.

“There’s this apartment on Eleventh,” Bryan continued. “Pretty sweet place. I’ll be able to afford the rent after my promotion. It’s got a nice kitchen. Do you like to cook, Nina?”

“Nope.”

“But you’re Italian,” he laughed. “That’s impossible. Italians are known for their cuisine.”

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. God, he was such an ass. I opened my mouth to tell him I had to leave, but just then, a tall figure strode into the restaurant. There was something familiar about the wide lines of his shoulders and—

The man turned. My breath caught in my throat.

What the hell was Santiago doing here?

A beautiful blonde was with him, gazing up at him like he’d hung the moon. I ducked my head quickly, heart racing. This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Or was I just being conceited?

Just then, our waiter appeared, holding an expensive bottle of wine.

“We didn’t order this,” Bryan said.

“A gentleman asked me to send it over to the lady,” the waiter replied.

I had a sinking feeling I knew who. That asshole. What was he playing at?

“Return it,” I said flatly.

“Whoa, whoa,” Bryan chuckled. “Let’s not be hasty. It’s probably some rich guy who thinks you’re pretty. That’s a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine, Nina. Rejecting it would be stupid.”

I gaped at him. “Are you seriously going to drink it? It’s insulting for someone to send a drink to a woman who’s clearly on a date with another man.”

He shrugged. “This is the twenty-first century, babe. Those old rules don’t apply anymore.”

Even the waiter looked disgusted as he obediently opened the wine and poured it. I glanced over my shoulder and met Rafael’s gaze. From across the room, his mouth curved into a conspiratorial smile.

I considered flipping him off but got distracted by the buzz of my phone.

“Excuse me,” I told Bryan, relieved to have an excuse to escape. “I need to take this—it’s work.”

“Sure, but be quick. This wine is really good, and I’d hate for you to miss out.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped out through the French doors to the balcony and answered the call.

“Agent Torres, where are you?” Chief Keef barked into the phone.

“I’m—”

“I don’t care. Get your ass to the docks right now. There’s a shootout going down, and the Black Smoke gang is involved. Their leader is here too. This is your chance to finally get the glory of catching them.”

I didn’t care about the glory. I only cared about finding Rosa—but I let him believe whatever he wanted. If he knew how personal this was for me, he’d never let me near the case.

“What do you mean their leader is there?” I asked, his words sinking in.

“Exactly what I said,” he replied. “Richard got intel earlier that clears Rafael Santiago. The man’s clean as a whistle apparently, just a businessman.”

“That’s impossible! We’ve been after him for years sir. He can’t just suddenly turn out to be innocent."

“Agent Torres, you’re testing my goddamn patience. Get to the docks, now. We’ve got a gang leader to catch.” He hung up before I could respond.

No. Impossible. Rafael was their leader, I knew it in my bones.

So how could he be here while someone else played the part?

At once, it clicked. This was part of his plan to exonerate himself. He was using me as his alibi while he orchestrated a fake confrontation at the docks.

I’d be impressed if he wasn’t a criminal.

Fuming, I marched back into the restaurant. Bryan said something, but I brushed past him, heading straight for Rafael’s table. From the amusement in his eyes, he already knew why I was there.

“What game are you playing?” I hissed.

“Hey, who are you?” his date snapped, but we both ignored her.

“I’m not playing any game, Miss Torres,” he said smoothly. “I just thought you’d enjoy the wine.”

“This isn’t about the damn wine and you know it.” I slapped my palm on the table, rattling the plates.

“Oh? Then what’s it about?” he smiled.

“You’re not going to fool me, Santiago. Your little distraction trick won’t work. You might push the attention off you for now, but eventually, we’ll find evidence and toss you into the deepest, darkest cell we can find.”

“How very morbid,” he drawled. “And here I thought the wine would help you release all that pent-up aggression.”

He raised his glass and took a slow sip.

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t have pent up aggression! And stop trying to change the topic.”

“What was the topic again? Remind me.”

I hated him so much. I couldn’t wait to finally see him behind bars. Shooting him one last scowl, I spun on my heel and stormed out, leaving Bryan behind. He could enjoy the wine without me.

Someone bumped into me as I stepped onto the curb. “Hey, watch—”

I gasped as pain exploded in my stomach.

“You shouldn’t have put your nose where it doesn’t belong, bitch,” the hooded man hissed before disappearing into the empty street.

I pressed a trembling hand to the knife buried in my stomach, my knees giving way. I fell to the ground, fighting to keep my eyes open as tears blurred my vision.

The last thought I had before everything went dark was that I’d failed to save my sister.