Chapter 10
J ago
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, senor . Senor Blanco and Senor 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.
“Their alliance would potentially limit our business activities as well.” Navarro buttoned his suit jacket.
Nodding, I checked the ammunition in my Beretta before returning it to my interior pocket. “There are always two ways to skin a cat, gentlemen. However, your concern is duly noted. The question remains. Why kill Julio?”
“Because he had better relations with both France and Germany.”
I shifted my gaze toward Kruz. “They were planning on taking the Morales territory, which would then have us boxed in.”
“Exactly,” Kruz snorted. “There’s something else too. We can’t find much on the Morales Empire.”
My thoughts turned to what little I knew of his business practices.
What I did know was that he’d stayed in the background for thirteen years.
How strange the timeframe coincided with a personal tragedy.
I shook it off, making a mental note to dig deeper.
“You’re thinking Morales successfully hid the totality of his business operations. ”
Kruz’s eyes lit up. “Think about it. What we might not know the Moroccans may have already discovered.”
The question was. Did Genevieve know?
“That means Ms. Morales is in danger.” I made the statement more to myself. She had no idea how much.
“Perhaps she’ll reconsider doing business with you when she learns.”
I moved toward my desk, grabbing the bouquet of roses I’d asked one of my housekeepers to purchase. “You don’t seem to understand the lovely Genevieve won’t do anything that she doesn’t deem acceptable and I assure you she’d rather take her chances with a Turkish or Moroccan pig than with me.”
What she didn’t know is that as of today, she wouldn’t have a choice.
“She figured you out that quickly?” Kruz asked.
Huffing, I headed toward the door. “Today begins a new chapter. Let’s not fuck it up.”