Devils bride a dark mafi.., p.8
Devil's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 8
As expected, a few of the man dared to either snort, hiss, or whisper curses.
“Enough! You might not like the hand that was dealt, but guess what? Neither do I. However, I have a business to run and I intend on doing so with or without your help. It’s your choice. If you don’t like it or my methods, there’s the fucking door.” I stopped long enough to point toward the entrance. “However, if you choose to leave and I learn you’ve gone to work for any other motherfucker who challenged my father or would do so with me as the new drug lord, I will hunt you down. Is that understood?”
At least a few of the men had the decency to look uncomfortable.
“I asked. Is that understood?”
Most nodded in agreement. That was all I was going to get at this point. “Now, as you’ve also likely heard, we’re under indirect attack already. Some would like to think our organization is weak. That includes the Torres Empire. I will not tolerate being challenged by anyone, including a pompous prick. Therefore, a message needs to be sent. We are going to torch the Torres warehouse located on Carrer de Petritxol. Unfortunately, the area is well known for tourists and locals alike. This isn’t an effort to burn down the world, but a targeted hit. Therefore, not a single person will be harmed and the fire will be contained.”
Something else I’d learned, partly on my own, was about explosives. With the correct mechanism, damage would be done without destroying anything further away than twenty to fifty feet.
The building I’d selected was small, which meant the product loss would be as well, but it would provide a tremendous warning.
“Que perra tan estúpida.”
Such a stupid bitch.
The statement was made just loudly enough for others to hear. Both Emiliano and Antonio bristled, each taking a long stride forward, but I stopped them in their tracks.
“No. I’ll handle this.” My voice echoed even though the rafters were over two stories tall. I’d almost had a panic attack inside my bathroom in thinking about being forced into committing acts of violence.
Yes, I’d been trained by my father to survive attempted kidnappings and what to do if I was taken hostage. I’d been taught to use weapons of all types and had learned how to fight using both traditional forms and martial arts. I’d taken up boxing as a sport in New York to keep myself fit, but that meant nothing when standing in front of rough men with tattoos and scars.
Everything was a test right now. Every decision made and piece of clothing selected. Even every drink I consumed would be scrutinized. I couldn’t back down even though I was certain I’d be forced to retch the two cups of coffee I’d consumed.
I didn’t need to push my way through the group to get to the man who’d made the nasty comment. Fortunately for me, he stood only about five foot eight, slightly shorter than my height and with my boots, the difference worked to my benefit.
At least in my mind.
“You have something to say to me?” I asked, keeping my anger from showing.
He snorted and looked away.
Now I was furious. I gripped his jaw, yanking his head back so he was forced to look into my eyes. “Se dice que los hombres estúpidos son los que no tienen oídos.”
It is said stupid men are those without ears.
I’d heard my father say those very words to more than one soldier.
I ripped out the same knife I’d used on Jago, almost shivering from remembering the closeness of our heated bodies and the shock of electricity we’d shared. “If that is the truth, then since you’re an imbecile, you won’t need your ears any longer.” I shifted my grip to his right ear, holding the blade against his earlobe.
“No!” he screamed and that was his admittance he’d been wrong. The only one I’d get.
I cocked my head, cognizant at least a few of the men were impressed I hadn’t flinched, others perhaps slightly fearful of me.
I counted to ten before letting him go. “One chance. You get one. No others.” After returning the knife to the holder, I started to turn away and was shocked he had the nerve to issue a sucker punch. He caught me in the side. The pain was blinding and I almost doubled over but gritted my teeth instead.
He backed away and so did every other man close to him.
After sucking in my breath, I chose not to flinch or show any pain as I spun around, the move gathering momentum. When I came back to center, I’d extended my leg, catching him directly in the face.
He was pummeled backward and I didn’t stop there, dropping down and issuing several brutal punches to his face. After a few powerful hits, the fucker’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his single grunt exactly what I’d wanted to hear.
My hand throbbed almost immediately, but I jerked up his head by his hair, lifting my head and glaring at different men.
Emiliano and Antonio stood just a couple of feet away, my commander fighting the amusement I noticed flickering in his eyes.
“This kind of shit will not be tolerated. Any disobedience and your punishment will be much worse. Get him the fuck out of here, but not without a parting gift. Antonio. It’s your choice. I’m in a charitable mood.” I rose to my feet and raked my hand through my hair. “Pick a group of five. After that, we leave in thirty minutes.”
“It’s bright daylight outside,” Antonio reminded me.
“Don’t worry. I do know what I’m doing.” I patted him on the chest before taking my time exiting the building the same way I’d come in.
Once outside, Emiliano was suddenly right by my side.
Meanwhile, I was holding my stomach, envisioning what body part Antonio would begrudgingly cut off the man.
“What the fuck was that?” he growled.
“What had to be done.” Christ. I didn’t recognize my voice.
“Maybe you didn’t pay attention to the information Antonio provided by the building you’re determined to hit is wired for sight and sound. Doing it under the cover of darkness is dangerous, but in the middle of the day? You either want the team to get caught or killed. I wasn’t going to say anything in front of the soldiers, but you need to rethink this.”
I stopped walking and turned toward him. “Maybe you don’t remember, but my father actually spent time with his little girl doing hobbies. Since I didn’t like to go fishing with him, I managed to convince him to allow me to tag along on certain less dangerous jobs. I learned quite a bit about security systems and explosives during my formative years. I assure you I chose this building for a reason.”
He reared back. “They don’t keep much product inside.”
“Correct, at least if the information Antonio provided is true. If not, then I guess I’ll be forced to face the consequences for his incompetence.”
He dropped his head, half laughing. “You are entirely different being back home.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you cradle your dead’s father head in your lap.” I was forced to take a deep breath. My heart ached all over again.
“You do know Torres will retaliate.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Although I wasn’t certain what I was wishing for any longer. The dangerous game was one I had no business playing and everyone knew it, especially the woman sworn to uphold the law cowering inside. “One last thing. Drop the body of the asshole who shot my father outside his front gates.”
“Genevieve.”
“As of now, you’ll call me ma’am or Madame Morales.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I heard the edge in his voice and softened. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Emiliano, but I need to maintain a persona as if I do.”
“I get it. Are you okay?”
My hand ached like a son of a bitch.
“No. Get me the fuck out of here. I’m going to throw up.”
CHAPTER 10
Jago
Smoke remained in the air, the stench assaulting my nostrils.
A huge crowd remained, all vipers gawking at a crash scene. Anger was just beneath the surface, but I refrained from acting on my need to crush bones until it was determined what the hell had occurred.
One thing was certain; the small warehouse had been attacked on purpose.
“What the fuck?” I shoved my way through what had once been the set of doors leading into the nondescript warehouse. The facility on Carrer de Petritxol was small and out of the way, rarely used for anything but overflow. There were simply too many logistics nightmares in using the ten thousand square feet. However, since my father had been into art for years and with the street being located in an area known for its art galleries and bistros, I hadn’t bothered selling it.
My father had also used a portion of the second floor to store various pieces of art currently not on display. He’d conditioned and secured two rooms, enough to house his precious pieces.
The explosion, while somewhat controlled, had ripped through the second floor, destroying almost every work of art to the tune of millions of dollars. At least that’s what the firefighters had told me.
I’d been forced to wait for almost six hours until the fire had been put out and the area deemed partially accessible. Sadly, the second floor was off limits, which meant no one would be able to do an insurance claim or assessment.
Not that we’d ever bothered to use our insurance coverage for a single loss. There was a chance of too many questions being asked, too many people with eyes on our products. But with two million dollars’ worth of cocaine going up in flames, the loss could be considered catastrophic.
Both Kruz and Navarro stood in the aftermath of charred remains, both as in disbelief as I was. Namely because the hit had been made in the middle of the day and not a single person had seen anything.
The cameras had seemed operational, but somehow, the signal had been interrupted long enough for someone to enter, plant the bomb, and leave.
Kruz crouched down, staring at what was left of the product. “My guess is whoever planted the bomb detonated it from a distance.”
I nodded.
“Not a crude bomb either,” Navarro said as he scanned what was left of the room. “You can tell by the burn marks. Shows signs of expertise.”
“The Turks,” Kruz snarled.
“Too soon,” I reminded him. “Our buddy Baris’ gift-wrapped body has yet to make it to the Turkish mob boss. This was something controlled and very personal.”
Very personal indeed.
Kruz moved closer. “Ms. Morales.”
“That would be my guess.”
“If so, she certainly didn’t waste any time settling into her father’s footsteps.”
I glanced down as the charred remains of the pallet the cocaine was in, unable to keep myself from grinning. “She’s a tough lady put in an even tougher position. She needed to come out swinging.”
“No disrespect, boss man, but it sounds like you’re making excuses for her,” Navarro suggested.
“Not excuses. I actually admire her tenacity.”
“Even if she all but kicked you in the balls. Sir.” Kruz knew he was the only person who could get away with talking to me in that manner.
She’d done more than that. I looked up at the gaping hole in the ceiling leading to the second floor. I’d yet to have a conversation with my father, but I was certain he was livid. Years of going to art galleries and auctions lost in an act of retaliation against an offer, albeit an indecent one. I wondered how he felt about his recommendation now.
“You waited, Lord Torres, to see what she would do. What now?” Navarro’s tone held a cold vibe of disdain. He never called me Lord unless he was furious at my actions or lack thereof.
I glanced in his direction, keeping my glare as icy as his tone. “It’s the cost of doing business, Navarro. In the scheme of things, not a significant loss. Although we will ensure our security is beefed up at our other facilities. Any other disturbance I’ll consider an act of war.”
As I started to walk out, sick of the stench covering my skin, Kruz grabbed my arm. When I stared down at his hold slowly, he removed and curled his fingers.
“You can’t let this go unpunished.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do. Neither one of you. I have no intention of allowing this to go without a response, but I want her to sweat. I need the lovely Ms. Morales to wonder what I’m thinking and planning. She has no idea how vital the art of patience can be.”
Kruz exhaled. “Understood. I’ll have this cleaned up. What about the fire investigation group? I’m fairly certain they’ve already been called.”
“I’ll handle them.” As with every other organization within Spain, I had at least one high-ranking individual in my pocket. “Continue searching for the person responsible for slaughtering Julio Morales.”
“It would seem at least one of the people in the group of armed men was found.”
I cocked my head. “How do you know that?”
“The fucker had his head severed. His body was outside our gates with a note attached.”
Why was it every time Genevieve reared her head like a lioness, I became aroused? “And the note said?”
“‘This is what happens to anyone who fucks with my family.’”
I burst into laughter. “The girl has balls.” I thought about how best to handle her. “When is the funeral?”
“I’ve yet to see it announced,” Kruz said, his eyebrows lifted.
“When it is, let me know. I’ll need to have my best suit cleaned for the event.”
There was little I hated more than wearing a traditional suit.
Or funerals.
Perhaps my hatred for certain attire was because while spending a portion of my youth in boarding schools, I’d been forced to wear a uniform. Zero personality and an even worse fit. Since I’d been a gangly kid yet to grow into my height, I’d always looked like I was wearing my father’s suits, which had been four sizes too large.
As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cobalt blue tie, I had to give credit to the Italian tailor. On little more than a day’s notice, he’d crafted an exceptional piece, the fit as close to perfect as I’d had.
I yanked down my shirtsleeves, grabbing one of the onyx and diamond cufflinks. At least I’d look the part of a mourning friend for Julio’s funeral. I didn’t enjoy wasting time with methods of pomp and circumstance under the guise of giving a shit. Weddings. Funerals. Birthdays. Graduations. They were all a ridiculous attempt at garnering attention or gifts.
However, today was a special event.
This was the day a new chapter in my life would begin.
It was difficult not to think about Genevieve. I’d even allowed myself a fantasy or two about stripping her free of clothes, exploring every inch of her voluptuous body.
I would do that and much more.
And if she disobeyed, I’d spank her bottom until it was the shade of her rosy lips.
The filthy thoughts always brought my cock to full attention. Today was no different. I wondered what she was thinking since she’d heard nothing from me. No phone call. No attempt at retaliation.
Just utter silence.
It must be killing her.
Granted, from what I’d heard, she’d had her hands full in dealing with other inquiries about selling the business. After a few days she must be exhausted. Perhaps she didn’t understand what they were really doing was acting like true predators, sharks circling the water as blood continued to drip from her wounds.
And she had them whether she knew that or not.
Soon she’d realize that news of her leadership had been disseminated not only throughout Spain, but in other countries as well. It wouldn’t be long before many of her solid verbal contracts would disappear. She believed in honor, yet there was none in the world of crime.
That would make her even more nervous and hungry. She’d be much more amicable to my upcoming… suggestions. Little did she know this time I wouldn’t take no for an answer.
As I was just fixing the second cufflink, I heard a knock on the door. One of my housekeepers opened the door, which I could see from where I stood in the bathroom.
“Excuse me, señor. Señor Blanco and Señor Delgado are waiting for you in the study.”
“Thank you, Christine. I’ll be right down.” I checked my watch. They were early. That meant there was either some news or a possible problem with completing the task that would unfold during the funeral.
I grabbed my jacket and headed to the door. Nothing was going to stop me from succeeding today. If someone tried, heads would roll or worse. I wasn’t in any mood for a single challenge. I heard them talking as I jogged down the stairs. When I walked inside, they both stopped in mid conversation.
“Please. Don’t allow me to interrupt.”
They looked at each other, each jockeying for the right to discuss it with me.
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Navarro finally asked.
“This? As in head to the funeral?” I threw on my jacket, remaining right where I was.
“Taking a hostage.”
“I like to think of it as an opportunity.”
Kruz walked closer. “You might not want to hear this, but we received word this might not be the brainchild of the Turks, although they could be considered an allied partner.”
“Spit it out, Kruz. What are you talking about?”
“The Moroccans.”
“Those pigs are involved in the slave trade industry and little else.” I was appalled, but not necessarily surprised. “Jamal Fassi has been chomping at the bit to bring his sick self into Spain. He’s been waiting for an excuse.”
“Word is they want to branch out,” Navarro added and gave me a strange look. “Plus now, he has muscle.”
I took a deep breath. “True. If the Turks are working with the Moroccans, they could effectively cut off one of our passages. Plus, the Moroccans would have a fresh supply of women to sell.”
“Given they’re both thugs, it would lay a dangerous path for anyone to cross,” Kruz said. He’d obviously been paying closer attention to the possibilities than I’d realized.
