Page 103 of Her Mercenary

50

SAM

My mind raced to put together this complex puzzle, but one thing was certain—Roman and I had been fooled, and there was no telling what trap he’d walked into now.

The thought that something had happened to him absolutely sickened me.

“Who are you, Lucas?” I asked. “Because I know you’re not with the Mexican intelligence agency.”

“You’re wrong. I’m with the CNI. I’m also Oisin Cussane’s son,” he said proudly, as if I should be proud as well.

My eyes closed, dread washing over me like a wet blanket.

“You’re ... Conor Cussane,” I said, my voice trembling.

“That’s correct. However, according to the Mexican government and the CUN, I’m Lucas Ruiz.”

Confused, I shook my head, trying to solve this riddle. “But the guards in the lodge didn’t refer to you as Conor, they called you Capitán.”

“Because they, along with the government, don’t know who I really am, mi amor.”

My love. My stomach roiled.

“We have a legacy to uphold, my papa and I, and many men want me dead. After Roman killed my father, I went undercover within my own organization, creating an alter ego of myself to weed out the rats and weaklings, while keeping myself—his legacy—safe. I moved our operations to Mexico, where I joined the CNI to keep an eye on the Feds. It was the only way I could keep his legacy alive. This is how I grew the organization to what it is today.”

“You played Roman,” I said, seething.

“No, no, no,” Conor said with an evil laugh. “He played me, mi amor. I truly believed blood was thicker than water until I realized my brother had dedicated his entire fucking life to killing me. His own blood. He killed my father.” His nostrils flared with emotion. “His own fucking father. It is the ultimate betrayal.”

My jaw dropped and my breath caught. “You’re Roman’s brother?”

“Half brother. His mother was a whore from Ireland, my mother a businesswoman from Mexico—or was, I should say. She died five years ago.”

“How long have you known Roman was your brother?” I asked breathlessly.

“A few days after we first met, both undercover, at a sale in Guatemala.”

“A sale of women?”

“Yes. After I noticed his Irish accent, I began digging. What were the odds that this Irishman who was so interested in my father and the CUN, was both born and bred in Ireland? I knew something was up. I found Roman’s birth certificate, and his mother’s name. Then my father’s right-hand man confirmed that Roman’s mother had been one of my father’s many mistresses. That’s when I learned the truth. After that ...” Conor angled his head to the side. “It became a fun game, me watching him hunt me. Can you imagine?”

A cold sweat broke out over my body.

“I planted false intel, leaked videos of slaves, watched him chase his tail for years ... until he started getting too close. A relentless son of a bitch, he is, and a pain in my ass. He had to be disposed of.”

Disposed of.

“No—please. Don’t,” I begged. “He doesn’t know you’re his brother. Please, just—”

“He will once I offer your life for his.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

“The moment I heard the US government had hired my brother to find you, Miss Samantha Greene, one of my slaves, the game began.” He laughed, an evil maniacal laugh. “But then, when I saw the way he looked at you, when I saw how possessive he was when he spoke about you, I knew the game had taken a turn. He is in love with you, mi amor. I knew the moment I saw him look at you.”

Conor glanced in the rearview mirror.

“He will find us, mi amor. When he does, I will offer to release you in exchange for his life. He will kill himself to save you because that’s the kind of idiot he is. He is weak. He is not a Cussane.”