Chapter 25 Stan
TWENTY-FIVE
STAN
It physically pained me to watch her lock her door, but from the corner of my eye as we said goodnight, I saw the glow from a lit cigar and recognized it for what it was—a summons.
She kissed me and pouted, rubbed my dick and whined when I wouldn’t fall into the temptation she oozed by existing, then grumbled and pinched my ass as I ushered her to her room.
God, she was so alive.
So vibrant.
So demanding.
And I needed that.
I needed someone to swallow up the air around me, to push my thoughts elsewhere, to consume my focus.
I needed her to be the eye of my storm.
As my nails burrowed into my palms, I walked away from her. Knowing it was the wrong thing to do while also aware I had no alternative.
I would not fuck her on allied turf where a war had just started. I would not.
She deserved better.
That belief helped me leave her behind and spurred me on for further information.
We were here for a reason, and hopefully this meeting would provide me with some answers.
I retreated to the outer hall of the wing Eva Martinez had guided us to and found the woman herself watching me while picking her nails with an impractically long knife.
“That’s one way to lose a finger.”
“Says the man with eight of his on the sister of an ally.”
“Ten digits,” I corrected. “My thumbs were involved too.”
She sniffed her disdain but slipped the knife into a holster. “Martinez wants to see you.”
I had to give her credit. Eva might be pregnant as fuck, and that baby might be ready to make an appearance, but she remained just as deadly as ever.
I had no doubt she could and would shove that blade into my throat before I got within a foot of her.
And that alone deserved my respect.
“What does Martinez want?”
“You’ll have to talk to him to find out.”
“A foolish man underestimates the woman who stands beside a leader like Martinez.”
“Maybe you’re not as dumb as I first thought.”
“Oh, I’m plenty smart.” I smirked. “Just not into politics. As I’ve warned you repeatedly. Nor am I into strategizing.”
That earned me a grunt. “You ever heard of a man called Damian Headley.”
I knew that name too well—he’d attempted to date-rape Evangeline at Russu and was Jennifer’s pervert ex. He was the reason the Triads owed us a life debt and his end had led to many fruitful business deals.
“I know he’s dead.”
“How do you know that?”
“Helped dispose of him.”
Her response of, “Interesting,” conveyed no reaction, nor did her expression shift.
Silence accompanied us on the walk that ended outside a massive office. One that made Luc’s look like it belonged to Martinez’s PA.
Walnut panels covered the walls, vintage lights and fittings added to the surreal antiquity of the room.
It wasn’t full of pomp and ceremony like his throne room, but loaded with objet d’arts that seemed intimate—a Salomé Pina here, a carved Mayan blackware bowl there.
This mansion was not a recent acquisition, no matter what he claimed.
Love had fabricated this room as well as time and effort and care.
“You owned this before you took over Los Nuevos’ turf, didn’t you?”
As a greeting, it wasn’t the best, but my tongue had a mind of its own.
Martinez, still leaning against the French door that led to the terrace where I’d noticed him smoking, mused, “They didn’t like that.”
Eva sniped, “Should have taken it for a warning to tread lightly then.”
“When did you seize Cancún anyway?” I wandered deeper into the room that reminded me of my grandfather’s study in his stately home in England. A room I hadn’t thought about in years.
“Feel free to help yourself to refreshments,” Martinez answered, his gaze on me as I approached the desk, where I saw a decanter of my favorite whiskey, a matching Cuban, and…
My jaw worked. “You’ve done your research.”
“A wise man does,” he countered as I reached for the box of Little Debbie cupcakes.
I studied the container, surprising myself with the craving for one. It had been a long time since I’d eaten my favorite treat.
Bypassing the cigar and the whiskey, I snagged two and rolled them in my hands.
“You poisoned them?”
Martinez smirked. “Sealed for factory freshness.”
“This whole thing is shady as fuck, Martinez. You can understand why I’m wary, especially when you dislike Hunter.”
When his niece had fallen in love with a gangbanger from LA, Hunter’s turf, and she’d ultimately fled the bastard, she’d run to safety. My sister had shielded her, allowed her time to heal the bruises her ex had left behind.
“Hunter hid my niece from me—”
“To stop you from acting foolishly once you saw the state of her.”
“He had no right to do that—”
“Martinez,” Eva chimed in, her tone soft for once.
He chewed on his cigar but dipped his chin as a concession. “I mean you and our guests no harm. As much power as I’ve gained in Mexico, I’m not looking to make enemies in the US.”
“You pinkie promise?” I mocked.
Temper flashed in his eyes, but it was Eva who drawled, “Unlike my husband, I don’t mind making enemies. Joke around again and I’ll send you back to your room tongueless. Considering what you were doing, I imagine you’d prefer to keep your appendages intact.”
“That I would.” I studied Martinez. “You don’t keep her leashed, do you?”
“Rabid pitbulls should never be leashed.” He shot his wife a look that had her grunting and leaning against a bookshelf.
Unconcerned, I slipped into the visitor’s chair opposite him. Tearing the wrapper with my teeth, I studied the cupcake. “You come in peace, then?”
“With my allies, yes. And to answer your question, it’s a recent takeover and our issues are not with Los Nuevos.”
Contemplating that admission, I took my first bite in years of a treat I’d actively denied myself—self-flagellation of the carb kind? Perhaps.
“Fuck, that’s good.” I savored the sugar hit, only just realizing I hadn’t eaten a damn thing since the meal on the plane, not having even grazed on Martinez’s banquet. “Appreciate the junk food dealing.”
“We try to accommodate our guests.”
“More than guests. You saved those girls’ lives tonight.”
“But one favor deserves another.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Such distrust.”
“Not distrust, exactly. Wariness. Would you approach a lion without wanting to know if it’ll maul you?”
“Lions are pussies. It’s the lionesses that will fuck you up. Martinez is no lion.”
I heard Eva’s sadistic glee and sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“One predator is naturally wary of another predator,” Martinez concurred, sparing a fond glance at his wife. “And you mistake me—we owe you the favor. Damian Headley.”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that name tonight.”
He leaned forward. “What happened to him?”
“We disposed of him.”
“As I thought.” He rolled his cigar between his fingers. “Why?”
“Because he was a rapist fuck. It turned out later that we could add blackmailer and head of a kidnapping ring to his resumé. I wish I’d known that beforehand. I’d have prolonged his suffering.”
“What worse fate is there than murder?”
“You know the answer to that as well as I do. Why are you asking about him?” My brain whirred as I parsed through the little I’d learned tonight. “Does it have anything to do with Beatriz?”
I still thought that toast at dinner was fucking strange.
Martinez stared at his cigar. “Very shrewd of you.”
“Kitty’s friend was related to you?”
“My niece.”
Jesus. Talk about a coincidence.
“Her death was… innocent?”
“Not entirely. She’d received a blackmail demand from Headley. Her ties to me had not gone unnoticed. She was ill-prepared for such a request. We try to keep our women out of it, unlike you Sicilians.”
I took a large bite of my cupcake. “Eva really looks like she’s out of it.”
“She’s different.”
“Damn straight I am.” Eva punctuated the statement with a flick of her switchblade.
“Headley recorded his ‘encounter’ with my niece and attempted to use it as leverage. I can only assume fear and distance stopped her from approaching me for help,” Martinez continued, rubbing his eyes like he could rub his fatigue away.
If there was anything I could understand, it was that.
Guilt made for an exhausted bedfellow.
“Leverage on what?”
“Access to some patients’ medical files.”
Brows high, I inquired, “You were living in Ecuador when this went down, right?”
At his nod, I toyed with the wrapper of my cupcake. “How do you know any of this then?”
“A little bird told me,” was all he said, ignoring my unimpressed look at such an insipid answer. “She feared that I’d shame her for losing her virginity to such a rodent.” When his jaw grew tight, I empathized with his pain. “I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.
“Then, it came to my attention that she’d hired someone to ‘deal’ with Damian Headley. However, his last known sighting was at Russu and I investigated further. I suspected you were behind his disappearance, but thank you for confirming it. As I said, one good turn deserves another.”
“What does that have to do with the Frasier sisters? Or is this because Kitty knew Beatriz?”
“That was the hand of fate. It spared her tonight. What was supposed to be an assassination turned into an explosion that took out half the street.” His lips twisted at my look of disbelief. “Don’t believe me? Destiny has more control over us than we know.”
“Does it?”
“You’re Sicilian, Custanzu. Much as I’m Mexican.”
“Thought you were born in America?” I derided.
“I’m Mexican,” he stated, tone like steel. “And we know, deep in our bones, that there’s more to this world than they’d have us believe. Your people are as superstitious as ours—”
“I’m a man of science.”
“Science?” He scoffed. “What is science when love comes into play? Love steers us. It’s why you created Red. It’s why you work on Vangelin—”
I snapped to attention. “How do you know that fucking name?”
“Sound travels. I heard most of your… interactions with our houseguest.”
Eva tsked.
But my eyes flared. “You hold anything you heard against us and the Sicilians know how to put pitbulls down. Even if they’re rabid.”
Martinez held up a hand when Eva snarled. “Further proof you were right, querida. The Capo has found his angel.”
I froze.
Those six words dug into me, tunneled out flesh and bone, replacing them with ice.
But he was staring at me in consternation as I choked on air. “Stan?”
“Why would you call her that?”
Martinez, still perplexed, frowned. I saw him glance at his wife, who surprised me by dumping a water bottle on my lap.
“We mean her no harm, fuckface. Just like you mean me no harm. You fucking men are idiots. Threaten me again and you won’t have to worry about him. I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear myself.”
Maybe it made sense that only she could reassure me.
One weakness… shielding another.
“You’re well?” Martinez asked warily.
“Se.”
He waited a few moments then drawled, “Your credit card was linked to the upgrade on their flights. We came to realize the Frasier women were friends of yours too.”
“How did you know I was coming? I didn’t know until early yesterday morning.”
“Fate again. A mutual friend shared the same flights as you. She told us you were on board.” He prodded the cigar, which lazily wafted smoke toward the open French doors. “Her work.”
The perp had been a woman, then.
So much for keeping women out of it.
“You hired her to do…” I motioned to the world outside this office. “…that?”
“Disapproval, really? You think you’ve hurt fewer people with your creations than I have with my actions?”
My mouth tightened.
He smirked, aware the dig had hit home. “Some people need to die. Don’t you agree, Stan?”
“I do.”
The smirk faded and a disenchanted twist replaced it. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure everyone who died tonight deserved it.”
“By the size of the blast sites, I’d agree.”
“Only the guilty were supposed to die. That’s why the hotel was cleared.”
“Feeling remorse, Martinez?”
“I have a lot of blood on my hands, but I saved my country tonight. I have to find peace in that.”
He saved his country?
“If you targeted a single group, why were there so many blasts?”
Again, he looked troubled. As if he wasn’t sure of his answer. “You’re not the only one experiencing problems with the Albanians.”
"Fucking pigs," Eva spat.
My brain whirred. “You didn’t go to war with Los Nuevos, did you?”
“Shrewd.” Martinez’s lips pursed. “The Albanians have become a problem, one that only a faction of my size can quash.”
“They’ve tried to take over?”
“Irrelevant. By tomorrow, they’ll be crushed.”
I didn’t think I was the only one who heard his uncertainty about that feat. Eva stepped around the desk and settled herself on Martinez’s lap.
The act was that of a queen.
I recognized it well—Jen would have reacted similarly.
Respect deepening for the woman who had none of Martinez’s charm and was 100% venom, I flicked my attention between the pair of them.
“The Albanians are more like cockroaches than you think. They surge up in waves.”
“No,” he ground out. “Tonight, we eradicate them.”
I just shrugged. “Why are you telling me this?”
Sucking on his cigar, he made a ring with the smoke. “Because you’ll return to New York soon enough and the resulting fallout could cause… problems.
“Our mutual friend’s the reason we looked into both of you, and she’s why we knew daughters of the Irish Mob were on our turf.
“I recognized Kitty’s name. Her friendship with Beatriz…
My niece had spoken of her friends prior to her death.
Kitty offered Beatriz’s mother comfort before and after the funeral.
Such kindness did not deserve… that.” As my gaze cut to the carnage, my brain couldn’t even linger on the prospect of finding Kitty only to lose her in the same day.
Martinez, unaware of my thoughts, continued, “When we learned of their accommodations, the situation had to be dealt with.”
Thank fuck.
“You’re covering your ass,” I still accused.
“Yes.” He ran his fingers through his hair, for once seeming ruffled. “And so that you know our mutual friend’s death was not our fault—”
“Wait, they died?”
“The news just came in. She was in possession of as many allies as enemies, and I want those allies to know that the Albanians learned of her presence in Cancún and decided now was the time to act. Apparently, she recently killed someone high up their ranks back home.
“I am, however, taking steps to ensure their annihilation. Her passing will not go unavenged.”
Unease filled me as my suspicions over the friend’s identity coalesced. “Who are we talking about?”
My eyes widened when he braced himself. “You know her as Dead To Me.”