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She pulled out of my hold, backing away in the sand. “Prepare for an all-nighter. You’re right that we need to work together on this. If you can handle that.” As she turned, jogging back toward the house, I had a very bad feeling that Emmanuel’s arrival was going to be the beginning of the end.
And that end would result in bloodshed.
CHAPTER 26
Diego
Powerful savage men often had only a few things on their minds.
Gaining power and seeking revenge.
Well, that and fucking beautiful women.
We made it our mission to do all three in a typical week, something dear old Xavier had insisted on.
I had dozens of things on my mind but the number one circled around formulating a plan to eradicate the Death Squad.
Of course, that was if they truly existed.
I was beginning to believe they did. I’d even updated the Brotherhood on the possibility, providing them with as much information as possible. In return, I’d asked for their assistance in running the preliminary list of candidates that included the men who’d dared threaten Sabrina.
While I had connections in every part of the world, easily able to hack into any secure computer system out there from military to law enforcement, certain members of the Brotherhood had proven some of their contacts were different than mine and even more useful.
Perhaps our alliance was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Or the devil.
What Ivan had managed to provide was a list of possible methods of connection to the victims of the overdoses in Sitka. That didn’t include Juan Desposito. I was firmly convinced he’d been killed because of his affiliation, and I was certain of the person responsible. Now it was a wait and see if the man in question provided the information easily or if I would need to force it out of him.
Sperm donor or no sperm donor.
I’d chosen to sit behind my desk for a simple reason. To provide a clear understanding to everyone in my office that this was my house, my domain.
And we would follow my rules.
There was no other option.
Including with the brutal dictator out of South America. My father. Just thinking the word brought a bitter taste in my mouth but I wasn’t foolish enough to shove his possible assistance aside. That wouldn’t bode well for anyone, especially the lovely woman who’d insisted on remaining in the living room down the hall.
Dante wouldn’t fight me. He’d do the same goddamn thing even though he had a better relationship with Emmanuel.
The testosterone in the room was higher than normal, the tense mood fueled by the arrival of Emmanuel and his posse. I didn’t blame him for bringing six people with him, although it was overkill in my mind, even for someone as important as it was obvious he’d deemed himself to be.
Emmanuel and Dante had a warm embrace, but it was something I wanted no part of. Ivan sat to my left, wearing a slightly annoyed while partially amused expression. I’d spent a couple of hours going over the details of what Sabrina and I had put together, including timelines and possible hidden agendas. I continued to believe the drugs had been used to eradicate those attempting to extort or unveil some portion of the secrecy of the Death Squad while also drawing a presence from the Santos regime into their lair.
“Emmanuel. How was your flight?” I asked in passing, as if I gave a shit.
“Unremarkable, although it allowed me time to talk to some of my most trusted advisors.” He studied me intently, accepting the offer of a drink from my brother. When Dante lifted his eyebrow to see if I’d like a whiskey, I waved my hand. I needed to ensure I’d remain completely sober for this meeting.
“Then let’s get down to business. I have an empire to run and a group of bastards to annihilate. Only I need to know who they are. And I have a feeling you’re well aware of at least a few members of the Death Squad.”
Emmanuel took his time cutting the tip of the end of a cigar he’d brought with him, lighting up then taking a sip of his whiskey prior to bothering to answer me. “Pierre. Hand my son the list we compiled.”
That was the moment I felt Ivan’s heated gaze from learning the truth about my heritage. He even cursed in Russian, words I couldn’t quite catch.
I glanced at one of his men, the same one I’d seen years ago when the Brotherhood had a meeting with him, creating a peace treaty of sorts. The Frenchman didn’t appreciate my dark sense of humor any more than I did his.
“So it’s true. The Death Squad does exist,” Dante said as he sat on the edge of the desk, lifting the file before I had a chance to. As he read the names, he whistled. “You’re serious about this.”
