Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Daniel. It has been too long, my friend," Niccolo DeLuca greeted Daniel warmly, grasping his hand firmly.
Daniel nodded and returned the handshake with equal pressure.
He accepted the chair Nic waved him to and both men sat together.
The Italian offered him a cigar, but Daniel politely declined and sat back in his chair while the other man lit his Cohiba.
Nic relaxed into the plush hotel chair and eyed his long-time acquaintance.
"Five years in security, Daniel. How do you like this cozy American job?" Nic asked, the pleasant aroma of cigar surrounding them. "You ready to come back to good money, where you no get soft, eh? I have a few arms shipments going out that could use overseeing."
Daniel grunted. "I'm sure you'll find someone."
Nic smiled regretfully, crossing his leg over his knee, carelessly creasing his expensive suit trousers.
"No one is as good as you, but you are loyal only to King.
So I will have to let this idea go for now.
Maybe one day you will grow bored with civilian life and contract out again.
If this happens you must come back to me first."
"Undoubtedly," Daniel replied.
The two men sat in companionable silence while Nic finished his cigar.
Nic considered Daniel a friend, though he knew Daniel didn't return the compliment.
Daniel wasn't an easy man, but he had his own sense of honour.
He didn't double cross his employers, he always completed his jobs and he was worth every penny of his high fees.
He'd always been a man of few words, but Nic suspected there was integrity there.
"King is well?" Nic asked, ashing his cigar in a crystal tray on the marble stand next to his chair.
Daniel nodded. “Sends his regrets. He’d be here himself, but a new merger’s keeping him occupied."
"Mmm," Nic said, giving Daniel a piercing look.
"He has been many times busy recently. Let us dispense with the so called bullshit, my friend, and call it what it is.
King wants the Vegas connection cleaned up, but does not want his hands dirty with Ms. Cantore in the picture.
So he sends instead his man to negotiate the Miami takeover and help the Vegas cleanup. "
Daniel didn't so much as stiffen at the other man's bold words.
Instead, he inclined his dark head toward the Italian mob boss and waited for him to continue.
Either he would condemn the direction Tyson King was taking or he would agree to work with Daniel in securing their American interests.
King was a formidable enemy. And with Daniel Mercer at his side, he was damn near unstoppable.
DeLuca would already know exactly who he was dealing with.
Nic nodded his head slowly and tapped his thumb absently against his thigh. "You will work with me personally, yes? I have your assurance?"
Daniel nodded. "King wants eyes on everything. Wants your bid to run smooth."
Nic smiled tightly. "With you at my side, it will of course. You don't fail."
Daniel sat silently while Nic processed his next move. Finally he said, "Miami has been uncomplicated. I've already moved more than half the city into my keeping. Thanks to you and King, once Marquez fell, his men toppled like fucking dominoes, leaving Cuba open for me."
Daniel nodded. "Our pleasure."
Nic snorted and smiled grimly. "So I heard. You're methods never fail to impress, my friend."
"Vegas?" Daniel prompted.
Nic straightened in his chair, shadows passing over the grooves of his high cheekbones.
He could be considered classically handsome, with his tall, lean strength and aristocratic features if it weren't for the air of violence that settled on him like a cloak.
His dark, dominant features betrayed an attitude of old world Italian mob boss combined with modern brutality that thrived in the cutthroat underworld.
"I could use help in Vegas," Nic admitted.
"Franco Delgado sits high up in his tower, surrounded by some of the most expensive guns money can buy, and despite his idiotic business practices, he has somehow captured the ear of one of our Colombian allies.
Colombia must be dealt with before we can take down Delgado, but it has to be done delicately.
We can't leave a power vacuum behind in a country already ravaged by economic instability. I will not have starving masses on my conscience.”
Daniel nodded. "I can handle the guns in Vegas, but we'll need to draw him out of the hotel or find a way in."
Nic's eyes flashed and his fists flexed with poorly contained rage. After a moment he said, "Leave it to me."
Daniel eyed him, waiting for an explanation. Nic offered none, clearly unwilling at the moment to share his plan for drawing Delgado out. Which meant it involved a woman. Probably Nic's woman. The same woman it was rumoured Franco Delgado would do just about anything to get his hands on.
"Know a man that might be willing to go to Colombia and deal with our ally down there. I'll speak to Bastida about taking over the territory so there’s no vacuum. Good?" Daniel asked.
Nic's mind flashed to the brutal drug lord, Javier Bastida.
The guy was a legend in his country for his brutal and systematic takeover of the drug trade.
Not even the government interfered with his operation.
But the man cared about his people and protected them with his own life and the lives of his men.
He would ensure stability in the region. He was a good choice.
"Yes, speak to Bastida in person, if you please," Nic said. "And this other man, the one that will take care of Delgado's Colombian alliance? Who is he? Is he to be trusted?"
Daniel nodded. "Implicitly. Contracted his services before. David’s a professional. He'll take care of the problem with minimal fuss and leave whatever message we choose or make sure there’s zero connection back to you if that’s your preference."
"How do I contact your man?" Nic asked.
"You don't," Daniel replied coldly.
Nic stared back for a moment before nodding. "Where is he, this David?”
“Canada, last I heard. Looks for his missing wife between jobs."
"A wife? I thought assassins were notorious loners," Nic commented. "Is she going to be a distraction?"
"Never has been before."
Nic stared thoughtfully past Daniel's shoulder, contemplating the stunning skyline from his expensive hotel room. "The wife took off?"
Daniel shrugged. "Apparently she objected to his choice of profession."
Nic snorted with laughter and Daniel came close to quirking his lips in amusement. "These women, they are too sensitive, eh my friend?"
"Agreed," Daniel said, rising.
"Ha, our conversation is now ended, I believe?" Nic said rising to his feet. "Though you are the paid help, you make all around you aware that you are the one in control, Mercer. It is unsettling. I will continue to secure Miami, let me know when you are set up to move on Vegas, eh?”
Daniel nodded and reached out to shake Nic's hand before striding out the door.
Nic shook his head in amusement at the way his friend managed to coldly control all situations.
Though Nic was a feared mob boss with connections all over the world, he still knew better than to cross swords with Daniel Mercer.
It would be like teasing a rabid wolf. The man was best left alone and utilized when absolutely needed.
"Nic?" Maria's soft voice touched him like a physical presence.
She stood leaning against the door frame to the bedroom, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist. She wore form-fitting jeans with the holes in the thighs and knees and a sleeveless red shirt that clung to her curves.
Her feet were bare, the way she preferred.
The clothes were old. She refused to wear any of the expensive, designer clothes he insisted on buying for her.
He knew they would fit her to perfection and look flawless against her Latina beauty, but the woman simply refused anything that he purchased for her, despite his threats.
It made him furious every time he looked at her.
More so because she was so fucking beautiful in her old, ratty clothes anyway.
He wondered again what impulse had made him bring her.
She was a problem he'd never intended to make his, yet he couldn't seem to let her go either.
He kept her coldly at arms length, mocking her trusting personality and crushing her enthusiasm for life while secretly drawing in every sliver of warmth he could from her.
It didn't make sense. But like an addict, he couldn't stop himself from indulging in her.
He took her body every chance he got, ruthlessly bringing her alive and forcing her to enjoy their time together despite the less than perfect beginning to their relationship.
Nic stalked over to where she stood. Maria uncrossed her arms and straightened with her back against the door frame.
He could see the pulse beat in her throat pick up.
He took a fist full of her shoulder length silken black hair and used it to force her head up.
She complied, her breath quickening in expectation.
Before he could lower his head to join their lips, she spoke, her husky voice hesitant.
"Are you going to use me for bait to draw Franco out of his Las Vegas hotel?"
Nic's fingers clenched in her hair, causing her to wince.
Her dark, accusing eyes never left his. Despite his aggression toward her, she'd given him her heart, she'd trusted him and the people around him.
He knew if he betrayed her again, she would hate him this time.
It didn't matter though. He was going to do what he had to do and he was never going to let her go. She could live with her hate.
He told her the whole truth. "Yes, Maria, you were always going to be my bait. That was my plan from the beginning. That was why I took you out of Las Vegas and kept you."
Tears of pain filled her eyes and she tried to wrench away from him but he held her tight. "You said... said you wanted to punish me for the honey trap."
She tried to push him away, so he grabbed her wrists and held them. "And I did, but I also knew he would want you and eventually he would come after you, which would give me the opportunity to take him out."
She stared up at him, her eyes pools of anguish, a sob escaping her throat. "I hate you."
He nodded and kissed her forehead gently before releasing her.