Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
LUKE
I sat at the head of the rectangular table at the far end of the room, fucking exhausted. Yet there I was, with a new associate from Panama that I was about to use for the first time, sitting across from me. I spent the past week in his territory, making sure they knew I meant business and they were aware of how I handled things.
I didn’t acknowledge him.
Something about this prick instantly rubbed me the wrong way. The last thing I needed was to babysit another incompetent asshole who thought with his cock and not his head. My plate was already full. I didn't need any more shit piling up.
However, I had to give credit where credit was due. The man had some brass balls for sitting parallel to me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to shake his hand for it.
A power struggle at its fucking finest.
I wasn’t a take-charge kind of man.
I was in charge.
End of story.
I unbuttoned my suit jacket, making myself comfortable before leaning back into my chair. “I paid off everyone who needed to keep their mouths shut, and the remaining were silenced… permanently,” I declared.
He fell forward on the table with his hands placed in front of him. “Your reputation precedes you, Luke. Quite the Jameson, huh?”
I tapped my fingers on the table, one right after the other. He narrowed his eyes at me, cocking his head to the side.
Waiting.
I knew what he was trying to do. I learned at a very early age how to read people.
Who was lying.
Who was pretending.
Who was bluffing.
And who was just full of fucking shit.
A person’s body language always told me their story.
Some of it was instinctual.
Some of it was inbred.
Some of it was learned.
Most of it was utter bullshit.
“Your father’s a legend. You think you can handle that? I’m just saying, that’s quite an accomplishment for someone so young.”
“I’m just sayin’,” I taunted in a condescending tone. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”
“I—”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply, grabbing the folder in front of me. I went over his proposal before shoving the documents in his direction.
Through a clenched jaw, I bit, “What the hell am I supposed to do with these? Wipe my ass with ’em?”
“That’s the best I can do. We’re taking a huge risk transporting that amount of cocaine into the US. It’s going to cost you. I need to protect my men.”
“Huh? Did you feel that?” I sat forward. “I actually almost give a flyin’ fuck about your men or your risks. Do I need to remind you that you work for me? Not the other way around. You don’t set the rules; I do. When I say I need somethin’, and I mean anythin’, includin’ what the price per kilo will be, then you go and fuckin’ fetch, doggie.”
He slammed his fist on the table, rattling the glasses. “I am the best! How dare you?!” Fury was written all over his face.
“That’s nice. Now be a good boy and use your inside voice.” Cocking my head to the side, I added, “I know people who can make your life easier, or they can make it harder. I can slam my fists on tables too. Want to see who can make it rattle more? Now, if you would so kindly tell your goons to lower the guns pointing at me under the table, I would really fuckin’ appreciate it, yeah?”
His eyes narrowed, giving me a smug look before nodding to his men. They retracted their weapons and placed them on the table.
“Gentlemen,” I announced, setting my elbows on the table with my hands in a prayer gesture. “I’m not here to argue. I’m simply explainin’ that things always go my way. Either you make it happen or you can go suck the dick you rode in on. Your choice.”
He instantly stood, his chair scraping across the hardwood floor.
Facial expressions always reveal a lot about a person. Feelings truly were a bitch to hide. Energy of any form is communicated through a person’s gaze. In this line of business, it was all about looking for the signs.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
The longer you were around someone, the more you learned about them, and you never even had to know their name.
“I’ll have a new proposal drawn up,” he caved, exactly how I knew he would.
“Great,” I ridiculed, loving every second of it. “Good boy. Now go lay down by your bowl.”
He stood taller, inhaling deeply.
Lifting my glass, I nodded my chin toward him in a silent toast before downing the bourbon in one swig. I set my glass down on the table with a thud and then smiled, not paying him any mind before nodding to the door for them to get the fuck out of my office. They understood my silent order and left without so much as another word.
I had properties all over the world. They were some of my biggest investments. Some were only used as safe houses, while others were used strictly for business like the one I was currently in. My real home was in Oak Island, North Carolina, where my family lived. It was the only place that ever felt like home to me. Regardless of the property, they all had sound and bulletproof windows.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, rubbing my forehead from the constant splitting headaches, which never seemed to go away. My doctor said it was from lack of sleep and diagnosed me as an insomniac. He prescribed sleeping pills, but I never took the fucking things.
My demons wouldn’t let me.
It didn’t take long for my office door to open and reveal a man I wasn’t expecting, followed by his guards.
Vicente Del Toro graced me with his presence.
There wasn’t much he didn’t own or operate. He was all-knowing but preferred to stay behind the scenes, orchestrating illegal shit like the puppet master he was. Transporting drugs from country to country with some of the most wanted criminals around the world. The language barriers between us never mattered. As soon as I chucked a stack of bills on the table, everyone suddenly spoke the same language.
What really got his cock hard was politics, and that was always where the biggest corruption existed to begin with. Vicente was no exception to the rule. I was just another connection to another country he wanted ties with.
I could physically feel his glare burning a hole in my face like a ticking grenade. We didn’t have much of a relationship. At least not anymore, leaving so much animosity and unfinished business looming between us. Building up more and more with each passing year.
As far as I was concerned…
He didn’t own me.
Not now.
Not ever.
I watched his every move as he made his way to my table and his guards sat in the empty chairs beside him. I stood, embracing him. Both patting each other’s backs. From an outsider looking in, we appeared to be two old friends greeting each other.
It was all bullshit.
I only embraced people for one reason—I wanted to feel and mentally count how many guns they were strapped with. We sat, chatting like old times for a few minutes, reminiscing about this and that. Trying to portray his ambush for anything other than a fucking threat before we finally got down to business.
“How many kilos in the crates?” he asked.
“As many as I want,” I nonchalantly replied.
“I suggest no more than ten kilos and ten crates. That’s enough to keep the cops away. I can have those transported over here in no time. I’ll get my men on it as soon as I get back. How do you want it shipped over? I can get a private plane with no hassle.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t the sixties anymore. They’re watching every flight coming in and out of South America. They have for decades.”
“You have all your clubs and all your tourism. The drugs and pussy are always where the money is at. Don’t you want the best for your guests? I have a few names I can contact in Miami. I know some feds who I can call in a favor. I can also reach out to Cruz Martinez. That son of a bitch knows everyone. It’s the least I could do.”
I didn’t want to start a war.
Not right now.
Too much was at stake.
So I did the only thing I could do—I played nice. “I appreciate that, but now’s not the time.”
“We’ve done business in the past.”
“That’s the past. Right now, I prefer to use boat transportation during the night. It’s the most cost-effective too.”
“No problem. Whatever you want. It’s not about the money, Luke. We’re old comrades, and I’m here to help you,” he answered, never taking his eyes off me.
And I never took my stare off him, sizing him up the whole fucking time.
Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I casually remarked, “You’re being awfully cooperative for a man known to be the exact opposite. From what I know, you’re nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“I — ”
I put my hand up in the air, silencing him. “How does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Is that why you’re here uninvited?”
“I heard you were in town. I’m just trying to have a friendly conversation with one of my dearest allies. Getting to know him man to man.”
“You mean what you were doing last month? I know what you were up to. I have eyes everywhere.”
He froze, completely caught off guard by my question.
I smiled. “Oh, that got your attention, yeah?” I leaned onto the table, cocking my head to the side. “Or better yet, next time you try to come in here with your bullshit cooperation, I suggest you cover your tracks.”
His eyes widened, his mind spinning as he calculated his next move. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stood from my chair, placing my hands in the pockets of my slacks. “I don’t? No disrespect, but what exactly were you doing at the American Embassy last month?”
I blinked, and one of his guards was in my face, aiming his gun…
Right between my eyes.