enough information
to make them viable. Until they tried to kill
Ian in the name of that bastard Sorrell.
Killing agents was something Ian preferred not to do, but
when a man had the barrel of a gun aiming in
his direction, he did what he had to.
"I have to head back to town this morning." Ian
glanced at his watch and grimaced. "I'm meeting one of
our lawyers at the casino. One of our Miami clubs seems to
be losing a tidy little profit. I want to know
why."
"Why did you not have him come here?" Diego
stared back at him in angry confusion. "You do not go
running like a hound to the underlings, Ian. They come to
you."
"Good idea, pop." He sneered. "Let's just
throw a party for all of them so they can scope out our
security and hit the house in the dead of night. Why the
hell do you think so many of your friends end up
dying in their beds from an enemy bullet?"
Diego's expression flickered with anger. "I am aware
of the risks to this life. I have lived many years and
survived many attempts against mine. We are Fuentes. We do
not hide and we do not scrape to those
beneath us by observing their rules. They come to us."
"And Sorrell has managed to turn some of your most
loyal associates his way simply because of your
arrogance," Ian snapped. "Let's not make this
harder than it already is. I'll be back in a few hours. Until
then, try to stay out of trouble."
Diego hated nothing more than being talked to as though he
were a child, and though Ian tempered it,
there was nothing he delighted in more. He was afforded
very few pleasures in this little game he was
playing and he took them where he could.
"Should I consider myself under house arrest while we
are at it?" Diego burst out angrily as Ian made to
leave the room. "You will not tell me who I may or may
not invite into my house."
Ian shrugged. "Invite them all for all I care. I don't
sleep deep enough for anyone to slip into my room
unawares. You do, though. I'd remember that."
He opened the doors and stepped into the foyer before Diego
could say more.
"Mendez, have Deke and the others join us
outside," he ordered the waiting bodyguard. "We have a
lawyer to meet."
Ian strode through the marbled foyer to the front door,
almost grinning as the houseman rushed to open
the wide doors ahead of him.
He stepped onto the sunlit portico, gazing at the ferns,
palms, and swaying greenery that surrounded the
large circular driveway and sheltered the paved road that
led from the gated entrance. The entire
property was enclosed by a ten-foot stone wall that Ian had
had wired for security. Guards were posted
around the property, and the additional training Ian had
insisted on had paid off several times when
attempts were made to slip into the estate.
He was vulnerable and he knew it. Shoring up his defenses
and inspiring loyalty throughout the Fuentes
networks was imperative now. He needed men who were loyal
to the heir of the cartel rather than the
cartel leader himself. Soon, Ian would know every dirty
little player, every scumbag assassin and petty
drug dealer Diego possessed.
He would know the whores, the pimps, clubs, and owners and
which location yielded the highest sales.
He was gathering the names of political buyers and sellers
as well as those within the law enforcement
community that not just Diego, but a dozen other drug
kingpins, were blackmailing.
By the time he brought Sorrel and Diego down, there wouldn't
be a secret of Diego's that Ian didn't
know. And that brought satisfaction. If he lived to achieve
his objective, then two fewer drug-dealing
terror-selling sons of bitches would cease to breathe air.
He should feel a measure of guilt, he was sure. Diego was
after all his father. The same father whose
wife had nearly killed Ian's mother, as well as Ian. Who
had been responsible for the most terrifying night
of a ten-year-old boy's life. The night his mother had lain
bleeding to death in his arms.
Because of Carmelita Fuentes.
to make them viable. Until they tried to kill
Ian in the name of that bastard Sorrell.
Killing agents was something Ian preferred not to do, but
when a man had the barrel of a gun aiming in
his direction, he did what he had to.
"I have to head back to town this morning." Ian
glanced at his watch and grimaced. "I'm meeting one of
our lawyers at the casino. One of our Miami clubs seems to
be losing a tidy little profit. I want to know
why."
"Why did you not have him come here?" Diego
stared back at him in angry confusion. "You do not go
running like a hound to the underlings, Ian. They come to
you."
"Good idea, pop." He sneered. "Let's just
throw a party for all of them so they can scope out our
security and hit the house in the dead of night. Why the
hell do you think so many of your friends end up
dying in their beds from an enemy bullet?"
Diego's expression flickered with anger. "I am aware
of the risks to this life. I have lived many years and
survived many attempts against mine. We are Fuentes. We do
not hide and we do not scrape to those
beneath us by observing their rules. They come to us."
"And Sorrell has managed to turn some of your most
loyal associates his way simply because of your
arrogance," Ian snapped. "Let's not make this
harder than it already is. I'll be back in a few hours. Until
then, try to stay out of trouble."
Diego hated nothing more than being talked to as though he
were a child, and though Ian tempered it,
there was nothing he delighted in more. He was afforded
very few pleasures in this little game he was
playing and he took them where he could.
"Should I consider myself under house arrest while we
are at it?" Diego burst out angrily as Ian made to
leave the room. "You will not tell me who I may or may
not invite into my house."
Ian shrugged. "Invite them all for all I care. I don't
sleep deep enough for anyone to slip into my room
unawares. You do, though. I'd remember that."
He opened the doors and stepped into the foyer before Diego
could say more.
"Mendez, have Deke and the others join us
outside," he ordered the waiting bodyguard. "We have a
lawyer to meet."
Ian strode through the marbled foyer to the front door,
almost grinning as the houseman rushed to open
the wide doors ahead of him.
He stepped onto the sunlit portico, gazing at the ferns,
palms, and swaying greenery that surrounded the
large circular driveway and sheltered the paved road that
led from the gated entrance. The entire
property was enclosed by a ten-foot stone wall that Ian had
had wired for security. Guards were posted
around the property, and the additional training Ian had
insisted on had paid off several times when
attempts were made to slip into the estate.
He was vulnerable and he knew it. Shoring up his defenses
and inspiring loyalty throughout the Fuentes
networks was imperative now. He needed men who were loyal
to the heir of the cartel rather than the
cartel leader himself. Soon, Ian would know every dirty
little player, every scumbag assassin and petty
drug dealer Diego possessed.
He would know the whores, the pimps, clubs, and owners and
which location yielded the highest sales.
He was gathering the names of political buyers and sellers
as well as those within the law enforcement
community that not just Diego, but a dozen other drug
kingpins, were blackmailing.
By the time he brought Sorrel and Diego down, there wouldn't
be a secret of Diego's that Ian didn't
know. And that brought satisfaction. If he lived to achieve
his objective, then two fewer drug-dealing
terror-selling sons of bitches would cease to breathe air.
He should feel a measure of guilt, he was sure. Diego was
after all his father. The same father whose
wife had nearly killed Ian's mother, as well as Ian. Who
had been responsible for the most terrifying night
of a ten-year-old boy's life. The night his mother had lain
bleeding to death in his arms.
Because of Carmelita Fuentes.
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