Chapter 17
G enevieve
“What is the status of the various operations?” I asked, looking directly at Antonio.
While Emiliano was technically in charge as commander, Antonio had been running the operations.
Emiliano had pushed me into naming him as a lieutenant, considered second in command.
I wasn’t certain I had that trust as of yet.
He didn’t hesitate, bringing me a folder, which surprised me.
There were a half dozen other men in the room; four were hitmen and two were considered Falcons. I’d insisted the Falcons be involved as their sole responsibility was scouting the streets for information as well as keeping tabs on the rival groups and the police.
I was trying to cover all bases, even though in my mind I was just winging everything I was doing.
With the folder in my hand and every man staring at me, Emiliano included, I took a few moments to search through the file.
There was nothing worse than feeling the heat of embarrassment because I had no fucking clue what I was doing.
I turned around to face the window, taking very calculated steps in an effort to convince them I wasn’t so clueless.
Right.
However, after a couple of minutes of flipping papers, I began to see that whatever accounting software program Antonio had used had provided what appeared to be a very accurate spreadsheet and profit and loss statement.
In addition, there were charts, graphs, and information from a database on customers, dollars owed and those behind on payments.
I spun around, taking immediate steps toward him. “Where did you do this?”
Antonio looked taken aback. “I handle it. My laptop. The boss, I mean Mr. Morales wasn’t interested in having it installed on the main computer at the office.”
That was because it wasn’t networked and the attorney who’d worked in the position before had done shit.
“We’re going to sit down and have you install it on a network system that I’ll handle. Is that clear?”
He seemed startled as well as pissed. “Whatever you say, Madame Morales .”
I didn’t back down, crowding his space. “I don’t appreciate your attitude, Antonio. Not one bit.” I allowed my harsh tone and words to sink in. “What I do appreciate more than anything was you taking the time to put this together. It’s impressive as fuck.”
He was even more startled, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I think it’s important to run the business like a business. I mean no offense, boss.”
Point three or maybe four for me. I’d lost count and was fearful they’d all be sucked away if I made the dumbest decision of my life.
“You’re still in charge of operations. Don’t go anywhere. Maybe a raise is in order.”
Maybe he didn’t catch I was teasing him, but at least he had almost smiled.
“I’ll be happy to meet with you,” he added.
“Good. Emiliano. What about word on the street? Anything on the Turks or the Moroccans?”
He shifted a glance to one of the Falcons. I couldn’t remember all their names to save my life. “Pedro did hear something.”
There was much more hierarchy within my father’s cartel than there was in the justice system.
Pedro stepped up, saluting like a true soldier. As if this was a war and I was a military commander. The thought caught me off guard, hitting me harder than it should.
I was a leader in a war I’d wanted nothing to do with and had no business being in.
He started speaking in Spanish and I needed to stop him.
“Let’s use English for now. Okay?”
Pedro nodded and I wasn’t able to tell by the flash in his eyes if he was amused or annoyed at my request. At this point, I was no longer in the mood to be dealt any crap. A decision was looming and I was a nervous wreck.
“What you heard could be true,” he said. “There are some Falcons in town according to some people I talked to.”
“Who do they work for?” I moved toward the desk, tossing the file and sitting down on the edge. Sitting was better than falling down at this point.
“Jamal Fassi.”
Antonio and the other men hissed.
I had no freaking clue.
“Explain,” I told him.
“He is bad. Very bad. Moroccan scum. He runs a terrible cartel. Many soldiers. Always new ones because he finds a reason to kill them.” Pedro seemed nervous, which shocked me.
“O-kay. Are you saying these Falcons are scouting for this Fassi dude?” I always fell into using more American slang when I was nervous. This had to be the son of a bitch responsible for the death of my father.
Dear God, it made me anxious.
“Yes.”
“For women, drugs, or property?” I asked.
“All of the above.”
I took a deep breath, forced to hold it so I wouldn’t make any sound. Think. Think like Papa. I glanced away and had an idea. “Do you think you can locate one of these Falcons and bring him to me?”
There wasn’t a man in the room who didn’t act surprised.
“That is dangerous, Madame Morales. Very much so.”
“Meaning we don’t have the skills to capture this man, or I don’t have the balls to torture him if necessary?” I threw it out casually, but the thought of being watched as I interrogated someone wasn’t on my bucket list.
Both Antonio and Pedro had the good graces to open their mouths just enough I could tell I’d shocked them. Hell, I’d shocked myself. Who was this woman? I was pretty certain if I looked into a mirror, the bitch staring back at me would keep mum.
Damn her.
“Oh, we can capture him, but if we do, Fassi could bring the entire Moroccan army down on us,” Antonio answered.
“Geography wasn’t necessarily my strongest subject in school, but isn’t Morocco something like twenty hours away?”
They looked at each other again. I guess they hadn’t learned anything about dark humor or watched Saturday Night Live like ever.
“The point is, gentlemen, that capturing him and trying to decipher the plan might not only buy us some time to adjust our security measures but also allow us a better understanding of their method of attack.”
Antonio took a few seconds to look over at Emiliano.
“The boss has a point,” he confirmed. “We can’t just sit by and do nothing. The best way of discovering information is to try and obtain even a few details from an interrogation.”
Antonio sighed and turned toward Pedro and the others. “Find one of them. I don’t care how you do it. Just make it happen.”
“Good.” Although at this point, I wasn’t certain there was anything good about the situation whatsoever.
“I’ll have another security detail head to the estate,” Antonio added.
All I could do was nod. Anything else would give away how terrified I felt.
The men filed out, but I sensed their apprehension from where I was standing. If they only knew how close my teeth were to chattering.
Once they were gone and only Antonio and Emiliano remained, I grabbed the file once again.
“You’re sure about the numbers?” If Antonio’s documentation was on point, I’d been right about my father’s sense of business.
He’d worked quietly and tirelessly under the radar for years, building additional wealth few knew about. That upped my power significantly.
“Very sure.” Antonio walked closer. “I’ll get you up to speed.”
“Not tonight, but later tomorrow. I need to try and figure some things out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Antonio started to leave but stopped. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re doing just fine.”
I laughed. Was it possible the sound could be any more bitter than it was? I didn’t think so.
When it was just the two of us again, I wasn’t certain I had any energy to keep on talking. Or bantering for that matter.
“You need to get some sleep.”
Emiliano was right, but I wasn’t certain that was even possible. “I’ll try. I think I’m going to try and watch a show.”
“A television show?” he grinned. He’d suffered through enough of my love of American-style movies and the binge watching I’d done over the years. “What will it be this time? CSI: Miami or Law and Order ?”
“Oh, I definitely need some tips on forensics. Especially if the Moroccan guy is brought here.”
“You’re not required to handle every interrogation. You do know that. Right?”
“Are you giving me a pass, Emiliano?”
“I’m giving you a pass.”
I laughed. “Thanks, but I’m still on probation. Remember?”
“Not for much longer. For the record, you’re not a killer. Allow your men to do the dirty work.”
“Oh, goody. And I get to keep my hands clean.” I rubbed them together and he lifted a single eyebrow just like he’d done every time my behavior was questionable, or I’d worn something that he thought didn’t suit me.
Like every dress I’d ever molded my body into. Maybe because they’d been way too short.
He studied me intently. Another thing he did far too often.
“Just say it.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he answered.
“I know, which is why you need to. I’m out of my mind, perhaps? I’m a crazy old lady who has no clue what she’s doing and will manage to fuck everything up. Right? Or how about that I wouldn’t have a clue how to carve up a man anyway.”
Emiliano continued to stare at me. “You have good instincts. That’s what I was going to remind you of and I’ll do it again and again until you begin to believe in yourself. Go have some wine. If you’d like, I’ll find some donuts.”
“Oh, would you please? Pretty please with sugar on top?” I even clasped my hands together as if begging him.
“Are you serious?”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “No amount of sugar-coated goodness is going to make any of this any easier. Go find a nice porn movie to watch.”
He growled and waved his hand at me.
When I was finally alone, I stepped back and almost fell before managing to catch myself by grabbing the edge of the desk. I had to laugh at myself, wondering if my father was rolling over in his grave.