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“There you go again, insisting you know everything about me. I assure you that you don’t.”
She slipped the paring knife from under her sleeve, holding the point against my jugular. I dared her to cut me by lowering my head a few centimeters, just enough the sharp tip sliced into my skin. The sight of blood obviously disturbed her and she pulled back her arm, her breathing shallow.
I easily took it from her hand, giving her a stern look.
Seemingly resigned, she dropped her head and I allowed her arm to slide to the side. As she poured a hefty amount of whiskey into both glasses, I placed the knife into the sink. She threw me hateful looks, finally concentrating on the dried blood on my knuckles.
“Where did you get the bruises on your hand?”
I flexed and fisted it before answering. “I had a disagreement with a bad man. We’ll leave it at that.”
“Do you always go around beating up people in your line of work?”
“When necessary.”
“Ice or no ice?”
“Two cubes. Please.”
The tension between us was palpable. As she jerked open the freezer, pulling four ice cubes into her hand, I took another deep whiff of her perfume. My cock stirred all over again.
With ice in both glasses, she handed one to me. The moment our fingers touched, a razing jolt of current rolled through both of us, disturbing her to the point she gasped, backing away as if I’d struck her.
She hid behind the glass, taking several sips before thudding the thick crystal onto the counter. I watched her stilted actions with continued amusement as she jerked open a drawer, tugging out a cloth. As she turned on the faucet, she shook her head. “So you really expect me to believe you’re not here to deal drugs.”
“No, I’m not. My colleagues and I are here because a cartel is not only driving fentanyl into the hands and mouths of innocent people in Los Angeles, they are also fucking with my empire, playing games. They like riddles, including talk about the Day of the Dead celebration. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Why should it?” I was surprised when she took my injured hand into hers, gently pressing the wet cloth against the cuts. She hadn’t made that connection as of yet, which meant she had no understanding of what she might be dealing with.
The gesture was as touching as it was surprising. There was no reason to lie to her that I could see. At least at this point. “Perhaps your investigation into my life didn’t include the fact I own several upscale private clubs in LA. A cartel member disrupted not only the sanctity of membership but also one of my employees. He also brought in enough fentanyl to kill several hundred people. When I handled the disruption as I always do, he spouted off riddles about the Day of the Dead.”
“The festival held in November, made popular in Mexico.”
“You know it.”
“As you said, I grew up in LA. However, unlike you who were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, I grew up in one of the poorest neighborhoods, every street overrun by gangs and dangerous cartels, many of them coming in from Mexico. It was a celebration honored in every close community. You have me curious. Why was this dealer spewing riddles?”
“As a warning,” I told her, giving her a slight nod of appreciation when she pulled the bloodied cloth away.
“So you just up and decided to come to Alaska.”
“You need to understand that no matter what you’ve read or heard, my brother and I are intending to move the corporation my father built from nothing into a powerful and wealthy and very legitimate establishment.”
“Let’s say for one minute I believe you, which I’m not saying, you didn’t answer the question.”
“Because we consider Alaska our territory. We provide the finest quality diamonds to dozens of wealthy clients.”
“Using your cruises to bring them to Alaska?” Now she was guessing. Although she was wrong in her assumptions for the most part, it was allowing her to potentially accept I wasn’t lying to her.
“That’s one aspect, yes. The other regarding our cruise lines is simply to provide our clients with joyous respite in posh surroundings.”
“Interesting. So you believe a cartel is out to get you.”
“By either leading members of law enforcement to believe we’re capable of something so heinous or simply keeping us on edge so when the responsible party attempts to take over our territory, we’ll be weakened.”
“Then you’ll be at war, the kind where hundreds of innocent people could die.”
“Exactly, Sheriff. It would seem you do understand my dilemma.”
