6. Giovanni
SIX
GIOVANNI
A week later, I was bouncing around the back seat of an SUV in the middle of the Brazilian jungle.
Kian Cortes was one reclusive motherfucker who seemed to thrive in one of the world’s hottest and most dangerous climates. It was the only explanation I could think of for meeting him on the edge of the fucking Amazon, surrounded by wild animals, insects, reptiles, and God knew what else.
Sweat collected on my brow as we spilled out of the black Jeep that had picked me up from the airport and drove me through Manaus to the outskirts of the city. It was where the Cortes compound was rumored to be, but after hours of driving through the dirt roads, I’d just begun to wonder if the driver planned to dispose of me in the jungle when he cranked the hand brake and nodded toward one of the largest compounds I had ever seen.
There was a vast ocean of green on the eastern side and wild jungle brush to the west, each stretching as far as the eye could see.
Kian Cortes had taken over this compound a year back when he assisted Amon Leone in retrieving his wife. After Amon, Kian, and their friends had successfully saved Reina Romero and other women being held here through the Marabella Agreements and other fucked up deals, Kian leveled the compound and rebuilt it.
“Follow me.” The driver, a tall, slim guy, led me up the curved concrete pavement surrounded by climbing trellises full of tropical flowers on both sides.
It was difficult to reconcile the carefully tended landscape and happily chirping birds with a place where misery and pain once ruled.
I had yet to cross paths with Kian Cortes, despite his alliance with the Omertà, and many others in the underworld and legitimate world alike.
I was curious to meet him but wary. The fact that he was related to Perez Cortes didn’t win him any favors, but I also knew how easy it was to be misjudged in this world. Keeping my mind open for the moment, I followed the driver to the newest leader of the Cortes Cartel.
The trellises ended and I came to a stop in front of the most spectacular house and compound I had ever laid eyes on. And I’d seen my share.
About fifteen small cottages with red-tiled roofs were positioned strategically on an incline, with a three-story gray building that stood to the side with a flat, grass roof. Another section of the compound had fewer cottages, but they were larger and spaced out by lush colorful flowers.
One building, a brick mansion with French windows and doors with wide terraces on either side, dominated them all. I imagined its views were what made up for living out here in the middle of nowhere. A large lagoon-style pool started beside the terrace and stretched all the way to the edge of the forest.
It was like a tropical utopia.
The seclusion, grandeur, and scenic views made up a private sanctuary, surrounded by a private militia.
I started to climb up the stone steps that led to the mansion at the top of the cliff. I worked out regularly, but even so, by the time I had reached it, I could feel sweat gathering on the back of my neck. The air at this level was cold but still slightly humid, and it filled my lungs each time I heaved a breath in.
But fuck, the view was amazing. I’d climb these steps every day willingly in exchange for a slice of paradise. Vague outlines of buildings lined up one side of the city in the distance with the ocean and vast stretches of dense forest on the other.
My guide led me to a table arranged with drinks and hors d’oeuvres. He lifted a bronze dome to reveal a salad, cold meat, and fish, all delicately prepared.
“Mr. Cortes will be with you in a minute,” the butler said, then left me alone. No security. No staff. No cameras.
Pushing my hands into my pockets, I admired the view while waiting for my host. It felt like being swept away in the clouds here, and I tried to remember the last time I was somewhere so remote.
The sound of footsteps had me turning around, and I watched a man walking toward me. Tall as me, but definitely older, although no less dangerous.
Silver hair framed his face, which was all sharp angles and dark stubble peppered with grays. Thanks to my sister and her friends, I knew it was a look women found attractive.
It left me pondering why this man was known as a lone wolf.
His tall frame screamed danger and dominance in ways that had all my instincts rushing forward. I schooled my face into its usual cool facade—the perfect gentleman.
My Italian suits, suave manners, and charm always fooled people. They expected less from someone who was arrogant and usually never saw me coming.
“Nice to finally meet you face-to-face, Giovanni Agosti,” was my host’s greeting as he extended a hand. “Kian Cortes.”
“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” I said, shaking his hand firmly.
Kian nodded, waving me toward the terrace with its sleek bamboo furniture.
“Quite a remarkable place,” I commented as we sat.
“We like it here.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“More or less,” he answered vaguely before his eyes darted to the glass doors and he issued a command in Portuguese. An old lady with weathered skin came out with a tray, carrying steaming mugs of coffee and tea. “I’d stayed mostly away when my brother was alive, but when the compound was leveled and he was killed, I rebuilt it.”
She gave me a smile, then spoke carefully, as though she were racking her brain for the words in English. It had me wondering how many guests came out here, how often she was able to serve lunch out here in this garden. “Tea and coffee are locally made, but if you need something milder, please let me know,” she said, eyes flashing with a hint of Brazilian pride.
It was a challenge if I ever heard one, and I couldn’t hold back a smile. “Thank you.”
Then, to prove I wouldn’t need anything milder , I took a healthy drink of coffee, the warm liquid trickling down my throat. For being locally grown, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was one of the best coffees I’d ever had. Deeply rich but earthy, with a discernible bitterness. Very savory.
I shot them a surprised look and Kian chuckled. “It’s my hobby. Growing coffee.”
“Wow, definitely don’t give up that hobby,” I complimented. “If you’re selling any, I’ll take a pallet.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cabrera,” Kian told her, his voice warm, and she disappeared into the house. Then he returned his attention to me. “Now, Giovanni, what can I do for you?” he asked, relaxing in his chair.
And it was exactly that—his comfort, his ease around me—which told me this guy was lethal. He didn’t need the security. He didn’t need to remove my weapons from my body before meeting me to ensure his own safety. I may be the newest head of a rival cartel, but this man possessed a certain quality that told me he didn’t cower.
“I need information on Liana Volkov,” I said, taking a sip of my brew.
He didn’t miss a beat, but something dark flashed across his face.
“And why do you think I have it?” The man’s gaze sharpened on me. “And if I did, what makes you think I’d share it with you?”
My hand paused on the way to my mouth, my eyes honing in on the man sitting opposite of me.
“If you know what’s good for you, and her, you will,” I deadpanned.
“Excuse me?” Kian laughed and shook his head. “You have some balls.”
I clenched my jaw and felt my fingers flex on the mug. I set it down on the table and leaned forward.
“I do have some balls, but more importantly, I know that Liana Volkov’s trail goes cold here. Under your late brother.”
“Ever occur to you that the trail goes cold because she died?” Kian questioned.
“She’s alive,” I said with a conviction I didn’t feel. If her twin claimed she was, I had to believe so, but that still didn’t explain what possessed me to agree to this lunacy and help Louisa. I owed her nothing, and I certainly wasn’t getting anything out of this shit.
Although, if I was honest, my brief encounter with Liana eight years ago might have had something to do with it. She was unlike any other woman I had ever crossed paths with.
Her mother had brought her up on deceit and lies. I could relate.
Kian eyed me suspiciously. You could see his mind weighing his options, deciding if it was worth his time…—and Liana’s—to clue me in on her whereabouts.
“You’re right,” Kian finally said after a long pause. He eyed me closely, and I wondered if he could somehow read my thoughts. “Liana Volkov, although she called herself Louisa when we crossed paths, is indeed alive.”
Not wanting to lose him, I pressed on. “How did she escape?”
He shrugged. “I guess she got lucky.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” I scowled, wondering about this man in front of me. He was a difficult puzzle to decipher. “Where is she?”
“Venezuela.”
I let out a sardonic breath. Of course she was . How ironic that I was just there myself. It would have been helpful to know it then. “You mean to tell me she’s been hiding there this whole time?”
“No better place,” Kian drawled. “Trust me, I was tempted to leave my brother to the feisty thing and let her kill him, but I feared he’d kill her protégé first, so I offered her a way out. Of course she took it. For little Amara’s sake.”
“Who are Amara’s parents and how did she come to be under Liana’s protection?”
Kian looked as though he’d spoken too freely, but then he shrugged. “A baby was given to Santiago five years ago to settle a debt by Gio DiLustro; Liana took her under her wing. That’s all you need to know.”
My brain was turning over all this information, but I knew I had to keep going while I could. “I only met Liana once, but she didn’t strike me as the motherly type.”
His jaw ticked, but other than that, his expression remained impassive.
“Well, take what you will out of it,” he said in a measured tone. “But let me be clear. You don’t want to go around that woman. She’s broken beyond repair and as psycho as they come. Takes after her mother, I suppose.”
“Is she trustworthy?”
“Enough to protect an innocent child,” he claimed, and I truly believed that if this man thought Liana was irredeemable, he would have ended her life, despite that every instinct in my body told me it went against his character.
I leaned back in my chair and dragged a hand over my face. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Kian tilted his head to the side. “I thought you had balls. But if you’re scared of Liana Volkov, it’s best you stay away. She’ll eat you for breakfast.”
That brought me up short. “I’m not scared of her. I just can’t believe she’s alive. Or that Louisa was right about it.”
Kian raised an eyebrow. “If you call that alive.”
“Explain.”
Kian huffed a dry laugh, putting his mug down on the table.
“That woman survived your uncle and my brother, and that crazy bitch Sofia. You can’t possibly think she came out unscathed.” I felt my teeth gnash, my hands fisting. “Lia… They broke her, every last shred of her heart frozen into stone, her insides burning with red-hot hatred. The only thing keeping her alive and somewhat sane is the girl.”
“So her daughter is her weakness,” I said pensively.
He looked up, meeting my gaze. “You take her daughter away and she’ll wreak havoc on the underworld.”
“What makes you think I’d ever take her daughter from her?”
I wasn’t the monster my uncle was.
“Because her daughter belongs to Killian Cullen and Emory DiLustro.” This confirmed some of the information Mateo had shared with me, and before I could say anything else, Kian continued. “She saved that child, and it’s the kind of love that looks beyond one’s offenses against others and only calls to the soul. That child is the only thing keeping her from diving into the depths of hell and not looking back.”
“Knowing Emory DiLustro, she won’t rest until she finds her daughter,” I pointed out.
“Indeed.”
“And how is it that you know so much about Liana’s life now?” There was something about this man that didn’t add up. I knew he kept mostly to himself, but it was clear he had his hands in different organizations, collecting favors from prominent and powerful families.
“I keep myself apprised,” he answered vaguely. “Any smart businessman”—translation, criminal —“keeps tabs on his friends and enemies.”
“I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me.” I studied the man across from me for any reaction, but there was none. Still, I learned a long time ago not to ignore my instincts. “Something big.”
He let out a sardonic noise. “There is nothing small about anything that Liana does.”
“Meaning?”
A heartbeat of silence passed before he asked, “Have you heard of the Marabella Agreements?”
“Only recently,” I admitted, remembering it came up during one of the Omertà updates. “Children of prominent figures are sold using it, but the access to those is limited.”
He nodded.
“Did you know Liana came up with the business plan five years ago and made it more profitable for Santiago and Perez?” Shock rolled through me. “Not many people know, but once they find out, everyone will be after her, just like they were after Benito King.” Benito King had a similar business going, but called it Belles & Mobsters. “She’ll need protection, and her secret compound won’t provide that for her or Amara anymore.”
I stored that piece of information for later use, if need be.
“Where in Venezuela is Liana Volkov?” I asked softly.
“She doesn’t want to be found,” he started calmly. “But considering she kidnapped Emory DiLustro recently and the fact that Killian is about to go after her, I’ll tell you. If we can avoid any more unnecessary deaths, we should.”
“Why did she kidnap the child’s mother?” I inquired. “Does she mean to harm Emory?”
Maybe Liana Volkov was a lot further gone than Kian Cortes realized. Those who had even the slightest moral compass refused to hurt women and children. It was an unwritten rule, yet it seemed Liana didn’t uphold it.
“Amara is sick, and if I had to guess, Liana’s desperate to help her.”
“What’s wrong with her?” None of it made any sense, and it made even less sense that this man knew so much.
“Her liver’s failing,” Kian answered as if that explained it all. “Now, I need your promise.”
“And what would that be?”
He eyed me and a smirk crossed his lips as he quipped, “You’ll grant Liana her quest for revenge.”
I stared at him, my breath coming in short bursts now. I didn’t know what to expect here today, but it sure as shit wasn’t this. “What is she trying to do?”
His eyes grew cold. “Find every person who’s ever hurt her and take her revenge. I believe she’s down to one person.”
“Who is it?” I questioned.
He shrugged, giving me a vague response. “A woman.”
“Fine, you have my vow,” I growled, done playing games. “Now. Where. Is. She?”
He grinned, pulling out his phone. “I’ll send you the coordinates.”
My phone chimed with the notification and I stood up.
“Thank you for your time.”
“Good luck. You’re going to need it.”