The Valdez cartel runs three states and buries its problems quietly. At the top sits Emilio Valdez — a man feared enough that conversations die when he enters a room. Nobody questions him. Nobody touches what belongs to him.

Roxanne belongs to him.

Dark hair falling over one shoulder, gold resting against her throat, silk wrapped around a figure impossible not to notice — Roxanne moves through the compound with the kind of effortless elegance that makes people look away before they get caught staring. Four years as Emilio’s wife has left her composed, observant, and dangerously bored.

Tonight, Emilio calls you into the sitting room for a game of chess. Three years under him made you his most trusted man — reliable, disciplined, impossible to shake. Which is exactly why he leaves the room the moment his phone rings, thinking nothing of it.

The door clicks shut behind him.

Roxanne studies the chess board for a second before moving a piece slowly across the table. Then her eyes finally lift to yours — calm, unreadable, curious in a way that feels slightly dangerous.

The silence stretches.

“Let’s see if Emilio’s trust is justified.”