I should know better than to be bribed with information. The girl literally had her hands around my neck ten seconds ago. And besides, whatever business her family is involved in is none of my business. William would want me to investigate for him, but I know better than to pry. Knowing too much is dangerous, and I already know enough to put me at risk. And here is Eris, dangling more secrets over me.

And why is she so eager to spill?

Nearby, a black car has parked close to where Eris pulled over. The windows are blacked out, revealing nothing inside, and every muscle in my body tenses up.

"Just my security," she says.

"Do they follow you home from school?" I ask.

"Yep."

"I've never noticed."

"You don't get it," she says, leaning against her car. "You don't get what it's like to have armed body guards follow you everywhere you go. You don't get what it's like to have a dad who's—" She stops abruptly and puts her hands in her hair, tugging at the roots. "I don't think you understand what kind of pressure I'm under."

I keep my gaze fixed on the black car behind us. "I don't think you understand that I want nothing to do with you."

"Too late," she scoffs. "Our dads crossed that line, and now, like it or not, we're connected. You're the only one who knows what's really going on with me. With everyone else I need to keep secrets, lying and telling them my dad's just an art dealer when really—"

"So that's why you're talking to me about this?" I interrupt. "Because I'm the only one who already knows?"

"I guess," she mutters. "I hate it. I can't stand it. I can't stand that none of my friends know, but you do. I can't stand to keep my mouth shut anymore. The shit I've seen, Ef. The shit I know. But we all keep it in the family."

"Are you talking about your blood family or the cartel?"

"Both. And you. You wanna know how it works, don't you?"

"Well, if we're going to finals in Mexico City together, I think I probably should."

But I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't curious. I am William's niece, after all. He's always getting in business that shouldn't concern him whatsoever. Eris is right. Unfortunately, we are connected. By secrets. By associations. By the dirty money that once passed through her father's hands into mine.

One time she got mad when I accused her of being part of a mafia family. She told me organized crime is something only her father specializes in—and most of his family has been murdered by now. Her mother's side of the family, other than a few cousins who went rogue, are senior managers of a big Mexican telecommunications company, which only adds to Eris' status as a rich brat.

She runs her hands through her hair, and when she pulls them away, I notice the strands caught between her fingers. I've noticed her do that sometimes—pull out her own hair. Maybe it's stress-induced.

"Shit's getting deadly lately," she says. "I mean, it always was. But now it's getting heated on this side of the border. You have narcos threatening rural farmers and taking control of the weed crops. People can't go to sleep at night thinking oh, all the murder is in Mexico anyway so we're good. It doesn't work like that anymore. The whole reason my dad moved to Cali is because it's supposed to be safer, right? Safer for his kids, safer to do business. But the enemies are closing in on us. We're basically dead meat."

This makes what William told me all too real. Knowing Eris is in danger sends a weird feeling down my spine. She's the daughter of a powerful man, which makes her a target.

"I didn't think it was that bad for your family," I say.

She pulls at her hair again. "It is. It really fucking is getting that bad, Ef. You always wanted justice, right? For what happened to your dad? Isn't that one of the reasons you hate me so much? All I have to say: just be grateful you're not caught up in all this cartel shit."

"The only thing I'm grateful for is my own skills," I say. "That's the only thing that can help us get out of the mess your dad put us in."

"At least you don't get death threats," she says. "Count your blessings, pendeja."

I glare at her. "Every day I don't know if my uncle is going to come back from his job. So we're closer to the violence than you think."

Eris sighs and finally takes her hands away from her hair. "Alright. So you're coming to my house or what? I'm not allowed to have people over. But whatever, I'll make an exception."

I get back in her car. She's barely told me any new information, but I don't want to know, either. Still, why am I going with her now? There's this nagging feeling in my stomach telling me to let it go, to find another partner for the competition, to cut all ties with Eris and leave her to deal with the dangers of her family business by herself with no one to talk to.

But I don't. I buckle my seatbelt and stare at the little figure of the Virgin of Guadalupe, wondering if those divine promises of protection will all turn to dust.

She drives. This time, she doesn't make a scene. This time, she keeps her hands on the steering wheel and her eyes on the road. And finally, we get to the rich area of San Diego. Gated neighborhoods, absurdly large mansions on the hills with a view of the city below. After getting us through a gate, Eris pulls up to a yellow, Mediterranean-style house. It's not as large as I expected for a multimillionaire family, but maybe they're considered humble. 

Isn't this a sign of trust or something? For her to take me to her home? Or is she just reckless? Like she said, she's not allowed to have visitors over—probably for security reasons given her family is probably on several hit lists.

Once inside, I'm impressed at the simplicity of it all. Everything is spotless, just like Eris' car. Minimalist decor seems to be the trend here. She leads me through a living room with a large, sprawling black leather couch and many paintings hung on the walls—mostly in that classical, boring style she specializes in, and I wonder how many of these she's painted. From what I know, she's the only artist among her five siblings.

"I'd give you the grand tour, but I'm not really in the mood," Eris says. "You hungry, though? Because I am."

I'm starving, but there's no way I'm telling her that. There's no way I'm eating any of her food.

"I'm fine," I say.

And then I notice who's sitting on the couch—none other than her older brother, Axel Lugo with his slicked-back, dark brown hair and square-shaped glasses. Our high school's former valedictorian. He could've gone to any university in the country, but instead he's at University of San Diego to stay closer to his family. And how do I know this? He texts me sometimes in an attempt to make conversation. And why does he text me? Well, that's a long story.

He looks even more surprised to see me. "What is she—"

"She's my partner for the International Arts Olympiad," Eris explains. "This year, they want everyone to pair up for the competition."

He blinks a few times. "Oh. And you... you two..."

"We're working together," Eris says. "Or, well, at least we'll try."

And then in comes Iker Lugo. He's a short, light-skinned man with a mustache wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants. He's stone-cold with a face of steel, emotionless, and unlike his son, he doesn't look surprised at all to see me.

"Eris," he says. "¿Qué hace ella aquí?"

Eris responds in Spanish, and I don't understand most of their conversation, but I assume she's telling him about the competition. Iker's tone is dry and sharp. Did the guards in the black car from earlier already tip him off about the fact I was coming?

Iker turns toward me and says, "I don't want you near my daughter."

His words don't make me feel fury for him. He could probably easily have me and my father killed if we step out of line, but I don't feel fear, either.

"If we win this competition," I begin, "I pay off the loan you gave my father."

"No," Iker says simply. "You are not working with her."

Eris throws up her hands. "You really get in my way, you know that, apá? I'm so done. Now I can't even do one competition, one thing that's for me!"

She storms out of the kitchen, disappearing into the rest of the maze-like house. Axel hasn't taken his eyes off me once.

Iker, unfazed by Eris' outburst, tells me, "It's best our families not associate with one another."

"You run us through the mud," I say slowly, "and now you're afraid we'll stain your reputation." 

William could stain it. William could expose everything. If anything, Iker should have the loan actually be a gift and forgive us of our debt, just so we keep our mouths shut for good.

Axel's jaw literally drops at my words. The confused look on his face tells me he has no idea of what I'm talking about. During our brief friendship—if you could even call it that—I didn't bother to explain the history between Iker and my dad, and maybe Iker and Eris never told him, either.

"You should be grateful I helped you," Iker says.

His words echo Eris' the other day, all too similar. You should be grateful.

"And I am aware of your little rivalry with my daughter," he continues. "I am very aware, and I think it's unnecessary. I think it's dangerous."

Who is he to talk to me about danger?

"Why?" I ask. "Because my uncle investigates the very thing you're involved in?"

His expression twitches. He didn't expect me to say that, and the silence that falls between us rings with the impact, the underlying threat. I realize, all of a sudden, that I shouldn't be talking to him like I do with Eris. The last thing I need is to get on this man's hit list, but I'm not about to bow down and kiss his feet, either.

"My no is final," he says, raising his chin. "I'll have someone take you home."

"Wait, it's okay," Axel says. "I can take her."

▴ ▴ ▴

a/n: this chapter is dedicated zaBOOmaFOO666 who has been reading this book since its early drafts! it's wonderful to have you along for the new version, huge thank you for your patience and positivity ^-^

side note: everything related to the drug trade in this book is based on real, ongoing events. as loyalties shifts and certain cartels rise or fall off the map entirely, making the information in this book as relevant as possible is quite challenging.

here's a map to help you get a sense of what's going on, though it's a bit outdated. as you can see, the city of tijuana (top left) is under a lot of tension as jalisco, sinaloa, and the tijuana cartel fight for control. and remember that although several cartel names reflect the state/city where they originated (such as the above), this doesn't necessarily mean their control is limited to that geographic region. and also be aware that the idea of a "cartel" is a loose construct to describe an interwoven web of organizations, relationships, and alliances. there are often many factions operating under the same name, which frequently clash or split-off entirely. for the sake of simplicity, the characters in the book will refer to the cartels as centralized, distinct organizations, but these stricter boundaries may not always reflect the reality.

let me know if this is helpful! 

i've often found that in mafia stories, the organizations referenced are either fictional, overly-romanticized, whitewashed, or not very relevant (think of how many italian mafia stories you see even though the italians are definitely not the main players anymore). mexico is often stereotyped as a lawless land with narcos running around chopping people's heads off, which definitely does not apply to the majority of the country. i'm aware this book may be playing into some of these stereotypes, but there's no way to minimize the extent of the problem not only in mexico but the entirety of latin america. nuanced depictions of these issues (especially with a latin american focus) have been incredibly hard to find in literature, and i hope that eris' character proves to be insightful, echoing realities the minority of mexicans involved in organized crime face. 

if you want to do your own research, i highly highly recommend the following non-fic books:

narconomics: how to run a drug cartel - tom wainwright

narcas: the secret rise of women in latin america's cartels - deborah bonello

any book by anabel hernández (but especially "the traitor")

el narco: inside mexico's criminal insurgency - ioan grillo

and for a fiction book about a sinaloan woman originally tied to the juarez cartel who becomes the top boss of the drug trade in europe with connections to the moroccan and russian mafias, i recommend queen of the south - arturo pérez-reverte (honestly why there aren't more books about cartel queens, i don't know ToT)