The favela air, thick with the smell of exhaust and simmering desperation, suddenly felt a whole lot closer.
Diego's boys, a motley crew of hardened faces and cheap hardware, had us completely boxed in.
A classic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario, except I knew damn well there were no coincidences in this life.
Especially not when you were playing a high-stakes game of revenge.
My gaze flickered across the circle of thugs, landing on Miguel.
The poor sap looked like he'd rather be anywhere else – maybe filing taxes, or getting a root canal.
Anything but standing here, caught between his boss and… well, me.
Time to exploit that pathetic flicker of decency.
I plastered on my best damsel-in-distress act.
Limp wrist?
Check.
Wide, slightly-too-innocent eyes?
Double-check.
A tremor in my voice that would make Meryl Streep weep?
You betcha.
"Oh, my God," I breathed, loud enough for Miguel to hear.
"I… I don't understand. What's happening?"
Miguel's eyes darted nervously between Diego and me.
I could practically see the internal debate raging behind his brow.
Loyalty versus a chance at something better.
The siren song of cold, hard cash.
Come on, Miguel, don't fail me now.
Zhuang Yu shifted, his body a silent promise of protection.
He was a wall of muscle and controlled fury, the kind that could make a girl feel… safe.
Annoying.
I didn't *need* protecting.
But damn, it was a good look on him.
Focus, Vivian!
Diego, a walking, talking embodiment of toxic masculinity, swaggered forward.
His eyes, dark and predatory, raked over me like I was a particularly juicy cut of meat.
The air crackled with barely suppressed violence.
This guy oozed bad news.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a gravelly rasp.
"Look what we have here. A little lost lamb in the wolf's den."
"We… we're just looking for someone," I stammered, layering on the fear.
"My… my cousin. He got lost. We didn't mean to intrude."
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
But hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Diego's lip curled.
"Looking for someone, huh? In *my* territory? I don't think so." He snapped his fingers, and his goons tensed.
"Search them."
Okay, time for Plan B.
Or was it C?
Whatever.
Before they could lay a finger on me, Zhuang Yu moved.
A blur of motion, a symphony of controlled violence.
He disarmed the nearest thug with a move that looked straight out of a John Wick movie.
Seriously, where did this guy learn to fight?
Ninja school?
International spy academy?
Whatever it was, I was suddenly very grateful for his presence.
The favela erupted.
Punches flew, bodies slammed against corrugated iron walls, and the air filled with the grunts of exertion and the sickening thud of bone on bone.
Zhuang Yu was a one-man wrecking crew, taking down Diego's boys with ruthless efficiency.
It was actually kind of hot.
Amidst the chaos, I saw my opportunity.
I sidled closer to Miguel, my voice a low, urgent whisper.
"Miguel," I said, my eyes pleading.
"Help me. I know you're not like them. I can get you out of here. Money. A new life. Just tell me what I need to know."
His eyes widened, the internal struggle playing out on his face.
"I… I don't know anything," he stammered, but I could see the lie in his gaze.
"Yes, you do," I pressed, my voice soft but firm.
"The deals with the rich guys… the ones from uptown. Tell me about them, and I swear, I'll get you out of this hellhole."
He hesitated, then his gaze darted to Diego, who was currently occupied trying to land a punch on Zhuang Yu's granite jaw.
Taking a deep breath, Miguel blurted out, "They... they use the docks. Shipment comes in every Tuesday. Something about… 'insurance'…"
Insurance? Interesting.
Suddenly, Diego roared, shoving Zhuang Yu away.
His eyes, blazing with fury, locked onto Miguel.
The air turned colder than a New York winter.
"Miguel," Diego spat, his voice dripping with venom.
"What do you think you are doing?
"
The stench of stale beer and desperation hung heavy in the air, clinging to Vivian like a second skin.
Miguel fidgeted, his eyes darting around the dimly lit cantina.
He was a pathetic creature, all nervous energy and mumbled excuses.
Perfect.
"Diego trusts you, Miguel," Vivian purred, her voice a silken contrast to the grime surrounding them.
She took a slow sip of her watered-down tequila, the cheap liquor burning a satisfying path down her throat.
"He wouldn't send just anyone to collect the… *merchandise*."
Miguel swallowed hard, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
"It's just… a delivery. I don't ask questions."
*Liar.
* The word screamed in Vivian's head.
Fragments of Isabella's memories, sharp and painful, flickered behind her eyes.
Diego.
The name was a poisoned dart, each syllable laced with Isabella's terror.
"Everyone asks questions, Miguel. It's human nature." She leaned closer, the scent of her expensive perfume a deliberate provocation in this squalid environment.
"I'm just curious. Isabella… she was curious too, wasn't she?"
His eyes widened, a flicker of fear replacing the usual anxiety.
"I… I don't know any Isabella."
Vivian smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips.
"Of course you do. Don't insult my intelligence, Miguel. It's not a wise move."
A shadow fell across the table.
Zhuang Yu.
He was a wall of controlled power, his dark eyes scanning the cantina with an intensity that made Miguel shrink in his seat.
He didn't say a word, but his presence was a clear warning.
"Everything alright, *señorita*?" Zhuang Yu's voice was a low rumble, laced with a barely perceptible edge.
"Perfectly," Vivian replied, meeting his gaze.
A spark of irritation flared within her.
She didn't need a bodyguard, a babysitter.
She needed information.
But she couldn't deny the primal comfort his presence offered, a stark contrast to the fear that gnawed at her edges.
"Miguel was just leaving," she added, her tone dismissive.
Miguel practically scrambled out of his chair, mumbling apologies as he disappeared into the crowd.
Zhuang Yu remained, his gaze fixed on her.
"Playing with fire, Vivian. Diego is not someone to underestimate."
"I can handle myself," she snapped, the irritation bubbling over.
"I don't need you watching over me."
"Perhaps not. But Isabella did." His words were a punch to the gut, a brutal reminder of her mission.
She turned away, her gaze fixed on the swirling dregs of her tequila.
"Then maybe you should have protected her better."
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Finally, Zhuang Yu spoke, his voice softer now.
"I'm trying to protect you, Vivian. Let me."
She wanted to scream, to lash out.
To tell him that she didn't need protection, she needed answers.
But the truth was, she was teetering on the edge, and his offer was a lifeline.
"Just… stay out of my way," she muttered, knowing it was a lie.
She needed him.
God, how she hated needing him.
As Zhuang Yu melted back into the shadows, Vivian felt a prickle of unease.
She was being watched.
It wasn't Zhuang Yu's protective gaze, but something colder, more calculating.
She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the faces in the cantina.
And then she saw him.
Jake.
Leaning against the bar, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
He raised his glass in a mock toast.
Vivian's blood ran cold.
They knew.
They knew she was digging.
And she was just getting started.