Adrik
When I claimed her, that was it. I made her mine and betrayed her. She longed for a story that wasn't mine to narrate, so I did the only thing a man like me would-I sent her back. Little did I know the secret she was keeping. The worst of all...
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Javier's been too quiet," Marco spoke from across the room as he looked outside the window with his hands in his pockets. Clara's betrayal affects him, but he doesn't show it.
"That motherfucker is up to something. Now that we know Clara works for him, he could hit us anywhere it hurts." I gripped the pen tighter between my fingers.
"He thinks we're the Colombian or the Puerto Rican Cartel. We're the Mikhailov bratva, and he can only hit if he has backup. One—that'll be his worst mistake, and two, we have no war with the cartels."
"I proposed a deal with the bastard, and he's acting like there's a hot stick up his ass shining gold in his mouth. Who the fuck was even on the ship? He thinks he lost hitmen when I lost soldiers in the fucking scheme Fyodor ordered." The pen snapped between my fingers.
"I'd think he would accept the deal, or has he been getting his cocaine elsewhere? The Colombian cartel barely receives their cocaine from the Caribbean because the federal police have kept a close eye around their borders and are a pain in the ass."
"Or they can be using El Mar Rojo's connection to the ports in Venezuela. That's a higher cost and fewer drugs from wherever they get the supplies."
"The streets are red. Francisco's son dropped dead at a party in Santo Cruz. A gun war con La Familia Gómezy El Elegido Cartel." I relaxed in my chair, pouring myself a glass of bourbon. If I knew anything about those cartels, they are small and boys trying to make it big with knives, guns and front-line hitmen. One call, and they get the job done.
"Why? You don't kill the boss's son and walk away a free man. Who pulled that trigger?" I brought the glass to my lips and drank half the burning liquid.
"Who said it was a trigger? It was cyanide. The news is fucking shit, and so is the federal police."
"They're keeping them busy, on their tails, and leading them in the wrong direction. Isn't Enrique Sanchez a former drug lord?"
"No one knows. Enrique is a Mexican secret police. He'd have to pull some strings and triggers to secure that position." Marco walked to his desk.
"Pay some money to shut people's mouths and threaten families." I finished for him. "Why would a government official switch sides?"
"You mentioned keeping the police on their toes. It's a mix of blood and sweat. Whose team is Enrique on, and what the fuck does that have to do with Javier?" Although cartel business was never our business, Javier had found himself on our wrong side with the crap that went on in his country.
"Where the fuck is Sasha?" I haven't heard from him in weeks. "Did he even come to the funeral?" Not that I cared.
"Sasha will let you see him only when he pleases. He left Russia and booked a flight to Morocco three weeks ago."
