The room was cold — not the kind that chilled skin but the kind that numbed judgment. Harry sat across from Mateo like a judge with no gavel, just time. Silence worked better than threats — at first. The sound of Mateo's body dragging across the concrete towards the table filled the silence. Elbows bent, face tight with pain, he crawled — a broken thing wearing arrogance like a cracked mask.
"You don't have to do this," he rasped.
"You're not scared enough." Harry's voice cut through the stale air like it didn't need a second sentence.
Mateo blinked. "What?"
"I said," Harry leaned in, "you're not scared enough. You don't realize what you got yourself involved in."
He leaned back, took a drag and watched the smoke disperse in the air. Confusion and fear fought for dominance on Mateo's face, exactly what Harry had engineered.
"You ever see a mouse run toward a trap?"
Mateo frowned.
Harry spread his leg, lounging deeper into the chair. "It thinks the cheese is a gift. Until it isn't."
Mateo's Adam's apple bobbed and he reached for a leg of the table, attempting to pull himself upright. "I—I swear by everything holy, I had no idea those pictures were uploaded to the internet."
Harry let him rant, casually running down the cigarette stick.
"— on his own, I was in the dark. The original idea th—that Jonny proposed was to send those to Señor Emiliano anonymously. Blackmail him. And if he didn't bite, Bella—."
Harry's hand came down hard on the table. Mateo jumped from the sudden harsh sound, lost his hold and crumpled to the floor. Harry put out his cigarette on the table and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, jaw set.
"You. Don't. Get. To. Call. Her. That," he spit out. "She's *Señorita Montez* to you, are we clear?"
Mateo nodded frantically, flinching at the sudden hardness in Harry's voice. "Super clear."
Harry sprawled back in the chair, one leg stretched out, the other bent — claiming space like it was a throne. He combed a hand through his dark mane and exhaled deeply. "I know you weren't in on the upload."
Mateo's eyes lit up, hope brimming in them.
"Which is why I'm wasting my time talking to you," he continued. "You would be dead otherwise."
Mateo crawled back, an apprehensive look on his face. "I—did—is Jonny dead?"
"Jonny?" Harry repeated, like the name tasted weak. "That what you call him when he lies to you?"
Mateo shook his head but his voice was quiet, like even he didn't believe his own words. "He wouldn't...lie to me. I'm sure he has a... good reason?"
Harry scoffed. "If you're going to lie to yourself, do it convincingly at least." An eyebrow rose challengingly. "Do you think Jonas brought you in on this because you're special?"
Mateo stayed mute, his head lowered, hands tracing the bandage around his thighs absentmindedly. The corner of Harry's lips curled up at the sight.
"The only thing that links *your beloved* to this whole scandal is that one substack post — a post he can easily attribute to unverified information and throw in a half-assed apology." Mateo looked up, his gaze shrouded and Harry leaned in again, his instincts sensing a kill. "Guess whose account is seen tracking the Montezes like a starved rabid dog? Guess who has the motivation and history with Isabella? Guess who all fingers will point to if this all goes south?"
He held the gaze swimming with questions, confusion, doubt and...hurt. His voice was menacingly low. "YOU."
Mateo's lips flapped open and he struggled to speak.
Nothing came out.
Harry waited patiently, his fingers drumming on the table.
"I—I never tracked the Montezs account." There was a muffled plea in his voice. "I don't even follow Be—Ms. Montez!"
*snap! Gotcha ya, Malparit* (Bastard)
Harry rapped on the table twice and the steel door slid open like it had been waiting for his command. Reinzi hurried in with an ipad in his hands and placed it on Harry's outstretched hand. Like a summoned ghost, he vanished and the steel door sealed behind him.
Harry tossed the iPad into Mateo's lap with the casual aim of a sniper at rest. "Whose account is that?"
Mateo reached for the iPad gingerly, his fingers scrolling through the accounts data on it. Each and every one of them had a similarity — his details and they stalked the montezes. His jaw dropped to the floor and his hands shook. "I...never opened these accounts."
"Well, someone did," Harry interjected. "You're not so dumb that I need to start explaining how it had to be someone close for them to get their hands on those details, are you?"
Mateo said nothing. Harry sighed, stood and circled Mateo like a lion sizing up the last shiver of prey. "Listen to this then."
He slipped a slim voice recorder from his hoodie and pressed play. Jonas's voice bled into the silence — the echoes of his exchange with Harry back in the apartment. Mateo's head jerked up and his eyes locked on the device like it had betrayed him
Harry spoke even as the record played. "Never once was there a *we*. Never once was *your name* mentioned, except to push the blame to you." He paused. Mateo's eyes glistened in the harsh light. Harry scoffed. Karma. Who knew it was real. "Hours of system breaches. Hours of listening to that. Hours of replaying scenarios in my head. Hours of pulling it apart — until the truth wouldn't stay hidden."
He stopped right in front of an unraveling Mateo but his eyes held no mercy. No empathy. "You think you're on his side?" He sneered. "You're just leverage. You're bait. You just don't know it yet."
The room went quiet. Harry stood, towering over Mateo. The silence stretched but he waited with crossed arms — the trap had shut, now he waited for the mouse to stop struggling.
Mateo's lips trembled before the words came. "I loved him," he whispered, like the confession alone hurt more than the wounds on his thighs. "I trusted him. I—I did everything he said."
His eyes welled but he blinked fast, angry at himself. "When he said he needed photos — those photos — I sent them. I didn't ask why. He said it would be private… that it was leverage against someone trying to ruin me. That if I helped him now, he'd protect me later."
His voice cracked as he ran a shaky hand over his mouth. "I didn't even ask who the person was. God, I didn't even think. I didn't care."
*No. You did think. You assumed it was leverage against her since you were about to blackmail her. AGAIN*
He looked up, eyes meeting Harry's cold ones. "I loved him."
Silence. The kind that stretched and bruised.
"He told me to stay out of the main room a few nights ago. Said a client was coming." Mateo gave a bitter scoff. "Who knew the client was you?"
He laughed. Once. It was sharp, hollow.
"I sat there like a dog by the door, waiting to be called."
Harry's jaw twitched, barely. But his eyes? They blackened.
"So that's what he did to you," he said quietly. "Manipulated you. Made you feel special. Made you think it was love." He leaned forward, his voice low and measured. "Sounds familiar."
Mateo flinched.
"The difference," Harry added, "is that you knew what you were doing. Shedidn't."
He let the words hang like blades. Watched Mateo squirm under his gaze. He stooped in front of him, held his gaze. "So don't sit there and act like the victim. You were never on her level. And Jonas? He played you because he could."
He stood, went back to the chair and lounged on it. "But that doesn't matter now," he continued. "You still want to make this right, or do you want to go down choking on someone else's betrayal?"
"Why would you help me?" Mateo's voice wavered with suspicion. "You obviously hate me and you seem to care about... Señorita Montez."
*Saving my sister's best friend's ass doesn't mean that I care. Even if we have history*
Harry leveled a glare that could burn on Mateo. "It would do you good not to remind me why I want to tear you apart bit by bloody bit."
A shiver — the bad kind — ran down Mateo's spine. He knew without being told that the man in front of him didn't do empty threats. He rubbed his palms over his arms, trying to shake the goosebumps off them.
Harry leaned in. "But. Resources are not to be wasted and you're of no use to me dead. I have an offer for you," he said flatly.
Mateo's ears perked.
"Or rather, a lifejacket," Harry continued. "There are two things *your lover* would never be able to offer you: safety and loyalty. I belong to an organization that will give you both AND money. Unfortunately, there is always a place for even scumbags like you in it."
"An organization?" Mateo asked, skeptical. His voice cracked slightly, despite the forced edge.
Harry's lips quirked, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Not just any organization." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and loaded. "The kind that buries secrets deeper than governments, trades loyalty like currency and has reach in places your lover couldn't spell." He flicked an imaginary speck from his knee. "You're not even a footnote to them… yet. But they'll make you matter. Or erase you completely. That part's up to you."
**He isn't asking. I've got no one on my side. I'm in his lair...and he seems to have a thing with Bella. He could kill me and no one would even know.
An organization that will make me matter? Safety. Loyalty. MONEY. How much? Can I even ask?
what if I just play along? Do whatever he wants from me...plan an escape.**
"What do you need me to do?"
"Make a statement and upload it online," Harry said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Mateo blinked. Once. Twice.
*Just that?*
"A public confession video. From the comfort of your home. On Jonas's account."
"What?"
"No one goes after the Montez empty-handed," Harry said. "Someone bankrolled your lover. Sold him the information he needed." Harry gave Mateo a look. "I bet you don't know about that either."
Mateo shook his head slowly, shame rising like bile. He felt dumb. Small. Played.
Inútil. (Useless)
"I'll draft the statement. It'll benefit me, get your revenge on Jonas and pull you out of this mess."
Mateo sat in stunned silence, jaw clenched, trying to measure the weight of Harry's words.
An offer wrapped in a threat. A lifejacket with a chain.
*If his words hold, a new life awaits me. And Jonn... Jonas. It's only right that he pays for treating me like a fool. A body to warm his bed.*
"Why me?" he asked after a long beat. "Why not just kill me, leave no loose ends?"
Harry's smile was almost amused. "Because you're already a loose end. Might as well use the rope before cutting it."
Mateo looked down at his bandaged thighs, felt the fire of old shame clawing its way up his throat. "I don't even know if I can do this."
Harry leaned back, lounging in the chair like the king of a ruined court. "You'll manage."
*Cowards always make good messengers.*
"My men will help you. Once the video is public, they'll set you up to leave for Venezuela, where you will meet THE DON. After that, you're no one. New name. New rules. You forget this life ever existed."
Mateo opened his mouth, then shut it. His mind spun.
**There is a higher boss? Don? Isn't that the head of a mafia?
Holy shit! That's where the aura comes from. How high up in rank is he? Does he run the scene here in Spain? How is Bella linked to him?**
Mateo shook his head. It felt heavy from all the thinking, like it was going to explode any minute.
*This is it. The point of no return. Play along, maybe survive. Refuse... and disappear.*
His eyes slowly lifted to meet Harry's. "I'll do it."
Harry nodded once — not approval, not praise. Just acceptance. Like he'd expected it all along.
"Good,"" Harry said, rising to his feet. "Then let's give them a show they'll never forget."