CHAPTER SEVEN: SECRETS AT MIDNIGHT

“Open the gate!”

Javier’s shout sliced through the quiet night. I jumped out of bed, my heart racing like a drum. I ran to the window, my bare feet cold against the floor.

Outside, under the bright gate lights, I saw Javier. His hoodie was wet with sweat, and his chest was moving fast, like he’d been running.

Even from my room, I could see fear in his eyes. He looked desperate, like something terrible was chasing him.

“Maya!” he shouted again, fists pounding on the metal bars. “Please! I need to talk to you!”

“Shit,” I whispered.

I didn’t even think to grab shoes.

I bolted out of my room, flew down the stairs, and burst through the front door.

One of Diego’s guards stopped me at the bottom of the porch steps. “You can’t—”

“He’s my friend,” I said, pushing past him. “Let me talk to him.”

Another guard moved to stop me, but Diego’s voice rang out behind us, cold and sharp.

“Let her.”

I turned.

He stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching everything like a hawk. Barefoot. Shirtless. A fresh bandage peeked out from under his shoulder—he was still recovering from the limp, from the pain.

“Five minutes,” he said. “Then he’s gone.”

The gate buzzed, and Javier slipped through before it even finished opening.

He grabbed my arms. “Maya, you’re not safe here.”

His eyes darted over my shoulder, at Diego standing there like a silent storm cloud.

“Javi, what are you talking about?” I whispered.

“I heard something,” he said, voice low and urgent. “About Santiago. About the club. You’re being set up.”

I froze. “What do you mean set up?”

“Someone knows you’re the one sneaking in. They’re planning to expose you. There’s a leak in Diego’s house.”

I felt like the ground moved beneath me.

Diego’s men.

One of them?

Or worse…

Valentina?

I looked back at the mansion. Diego hadn’t moved. His jaw was tight. Eyes locked on Javier like he was a loaded gun.

Javier leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Maya, come with me. I have a car waiting. We can leave right now before everything goes wrong.”

“No.” The word slipped out before I even thought. “I can’t. My mom’s surgery. The money—”

“You think Diego will save her?” His voice cracked. “He’ll use you until you’re no longer useful. Then he’ll toss you.”

I stepped back, shaking my head. “You don’t know him.”

“I do!” he snapped. “I know his kind, Maya. They don’t love. They don’t forgive. They destroy.”

We stood there for a beat.

Then Diego stepped forward, cane tapping the stones.

“Time’s up,” he said calmly. But his voice held a quiet threat.

Javier didn’t back down. “She’s not your pawn,” he said, glaring at Diego.

“No,” Diego said, stopping just a few feet from us. “She’s my weapon.”

His eyes met mine. “And she’s more dangerous than you think.”

I swallowed hard. My head was spinning.

Was he protecting me… or controlling me?

Javier’s hands dropped from my arms. “Think about what I said,” he murmured. “I’ll be waiting if you change your mind.”

Then he turned and walked back through the gate, disappearing into the night like a ghost.

I barely slept.

Diego didn’t say a word to me after that. Just nodded once before vanishing into his office.

The house felt colder.

Quieter.

I kept thinking about what Javier said. About someone in the house leaking information. About me being set up.

I didn’t want to believe it.

But in my gut… I knew something was wrong.

At breakfast the next morning, Valentina showed up uninvited.

Again.

She wore tight red leather pants and a crop top that looked like it had been painted on. Her heels clicked through the marble hall like she owned the place.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said sweetly, dropping into the chair across from me.

“What are you doing here?”

She pouted. “Can’t a girl visit her bestie?”

I didn’t smile.

She poured herself coffee like she lived here. “Word on the street is Santiago’s losing ground. Diego’s moves are working.”

I said nothing.

She leaned in, voice suddenly low and serious. “Be careful, Maya. The Mafia doesn’t play fair.”

Something in her tone made my skin crawl. Her smile didn't match her eyes. It was like she knew something I didn't.

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, nothing.”

Then she stood, blew me a kiss, and walked out the door, her heels clicking all the way.

Later that afternoon, Diego called me into his office.

He was staring at a wall of maps, gang routes, and red pins.

Without looking at me, he spoke.

“Santiago has a meeting tonight. Private. Invitation-only. He’ll be there.”

“Okay,” I said carefully.

“You’re going in.”

My stomach dropped. “You want me to sneak into that?”

He turned.

“I want you to record everything he says. There will be talk of alliances, shipment codes, deals we can crush.”

He walked over, slowly. His limp was almost gone.

“Wear this,” he said, handing me a small gold necklace.

I looked closer. It wasn’t just jewelry—it was a microphone.

“If they find this on me, I’m dead,” I whispered.

He met my eyes.

“I know.”

And for a moment… I swear he looked scared.

Like sending me in was killing him.

But he didn’t stop.

Because power came first.

Always.

That night, I stood in front of the mirror in a tight black dress, the necklace felt heavy around my neck, like a rope choking me.

My hands shook.

My heart pounded.

I didn’t know if I’d come back alive.

I walked down the stairs, ready to leave.

Diego stood by the front door.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Then: “If anything happens—”

“Don’t,” I whispered.

Because if he said it, I might break.

He stepped closer, brushed his fingers against my cheek. “You come back. Do you hear me?”

I nodded.

Then I left.

At the club, the guards let me in—Valentina had managed to get me a fake pass under the name “Lola.”

The music pounded. Lights flashed. Bodies swayed.

But I wasn’t there to dance.

I made my way to the VIP lounge, heart racing, sweat slipping down my back.

And then I saw him.

Santiago.

Surrounded by men with guns and girls with empty eyes.

I moved closer, pretending to serve drinks.

The necklace was recording everything.

Then I heard it.

Santiago leaned into his phone and said, “The girl… the one Diego sent? We know who she is. Tonight, she dies.”

My hands shook, and the tray I was holding crashed to the floor.

And his eyes locked on mine.