Alejandro Vargas. Thirty- seven years old, and already he'd made quite the name for himself. After Las Almas Cartel was taken out, Los Vaqueros became the next big cartel. It wasn't supposed to be that way, not from the beginning, but with Valeria out of the way, there was essentially no reason to be "soldiers."

Of course, when Laswell called, Los Vaqueros answered. Legally or otherwise. After all, who was going to stop them? They were the military and the cartel.

What more could Alejandro want? He was respected, feared to a healthy degree, and Rudolpho was still working with him. Life was good. Except that you had found something to lock onto and complain about. All day you had been nagging and nagging, Alejandro was practically ripping his hair out.

"Cariño, por favor, make sense to me." Alejandro pulled you to his lap, "No puedo leer tu mente."