Page 96 of Reckless Woman
“No—I…” I shake my head at my stupidity. “I must be more exhausted than I thought.”
And delusional.
There’s no way in hell that Viviana Santiago could be back in Leticia, too.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joseph
Ipinch the bridge of my nose in irritation. This meeting is quickly descending into farce. With news of our strict embargo on the use of all Vindicta vessels to export our product around the world, Vindicta’s shipping rivals’ have hiked up their prices. This, in turn, has set tempers blazing amongst the newly resurrectedLos Cinco Grandes.They seem to have conveniently forgotten that the Santiago Cartel is the fucking scorpion king around here. Our word is law. We control their processing plants now, and every single one of these petulant bastards works for us.
“Where is the compensation for this, Señor Grayson,” Luis Ossa Junior moans loudly. “Señor Santiago is crazy if he thinks we’ll nail our dicks to the table for these amounts. We’ve lost huge revenue with the closure of our whorehouses. I refuse to pay double for the same shipping service. Lower the percentages you expect from us, and maybe we’ll consider it.”
Business was never my strong suit. I’m an enforcer not a negotiator, but I need to learn fast in order to put my long-term plan into action.
Pulling out my knife, I lay it on the table in front of me to a deep and heavy hush. Leaning forward, I rest my forearms either side of it. “Care to repeat the question again, Ossa?” I tell him in perfect Spanish. “Maybe without the demand this time.”
The short man glares at me, inflated two feet above his chair by his own sense of importance. Without Santiago by my side, they’re testing my boundaries. They want to see ifEl Asesinois on vacation or in permanent hibernation. Unfortunately for them, I’m present and correct, and I’m about to show them how much. I may not be a Santiago by blood, but I’ve been an integral part of every manifestation of this fucking cartel for close to two decades, and I’m not about to stop now.
An hour later, I’m walking out of the bar in the center of Medellín leaving two severed fingers behind and the complete submission of every man in the room. The next time Luis Ossa Junior wants to wave his middle fingers at me in a salute of dissent, he’ll have to do it with his thumbs instead.
* * *
It’sa six-hour flight back to Leticia. I don’t normally leave the estate for this long, but business dictated my time today. I’ve restored order with the other cartels, the deadlock has been crushed, and our product is flowing through all the usual channels again.
I message Dante as soon as we’re in the air.
Ossa under control.
It’s brief. Succinct. We haven’t spoken in longer than bursts of single sentences since Miami. I get the impression he’s keeping his distance for the same reasons I am with Anna. Space is a room where everyone breathes a little easier and thinks a little clearer. It’s also a room with a door, and I’m holding fast to that thought.
Early evening is dusting the Amazon in pink and gold. As soon as my Jeep hits Emilio Santiago’s old driveway, I’m glancing up at her bedroom window. The curtains are closed.Again.My patience is wearing thin, but my marriage isn’t an issue that can be forced with a knife and a threat.
My cell starts ringing as my driver stops the vehicle by the front steps.
Withheld number.
“Grayson.”
“It’s Roman,” comes a cool voice. “Have you got a moment?”
“Yes, what is it?” Exiting the vehicle, I head straight for the usual place, tucking a cigarette between my lips and barely breaking stride as I light that fucker up. As I do, I notice that my hands are still red from the meeting.
“Viviana Santiago,” he says heavily.
A low groan escapes the back of my throat as I rip the smoke from my mouth. “Tell me that bitch’s body has been found floating face-down.”
He blows out a breath. “Just hear me out before you start growling at me. I received a tip off that Petrov’s old party circuit was under new management in Florida. I took it seriously, and I brought it to Santiago. We had a plan to go in and neutralize the whole damn place yesterday. Only thing is, when we raided, we weren’t the first in line.”
My footsteps slow. “What do you mean?”
‘Everyone was dead, except for the girls.”
“So? There’s another vigilante anti-trafficking organization following our lead. Maybe we should get together and exchange fucking Christmas cards.”
“Not an organization, Grayson…Someone.”
My footsteps stop altogether. I don’t like where this is going.