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The entire thing had been a ruse. Yes, Rico had purchased several shares of Thousand Acres and he’d highjacked one of the diamond shipments the Santos boys handled as part of their legitimate operations.
It was apparent that Rico believed himself to be all powerful. At least Diego was coordinating a strike on Rico’s California and Mexican operations. I only hoped he knew what he was in store for.
“Who the fuck betrayed us?” Miguel asked.
“I have a feeling I know. We’ll discuss that later.” My father had once told us both the story of his best friend betraying him, the man Pops had considered his Consigliere. It had nearly gutted him, which was one of the reasons he’d told me never to put my trust in anyone but family.
I’d honored that plea, at least for the most part.
Anger swelled to an almost uncontrollable point.
The truth was I was crazed from rage, furious with myself for leaving her. While all the pieces of the puzzle hadn’t easily fit together, there were enough that whoever had betrayed our organization, killing my men and almost taking the life of the woman I loved, would face destruction unlike anything that had ever been seen before.
I rounded the bend, forced to slam on my brakes twice.
“The driveway is a hundred yards up. Slow the fuck down.”
As I swung onto the paved path, I immediately grabbed my weapon, prepared for anything.
Almost anything.
If they were hurt, I wouldn’t be able to tolerate it.
“What the hell is that?” Miguel asked, pointing out the windshield. “Oh, God. Stop. Stop!”
I slammed on the brakes again, barely coming to a stop before hitting the animal in front of us. The creature lifted its head and I roared. It was Max, the headlights showing his muzzle was covered in blood. He was staggering, likely from being hit.
“Where the hell is the SUV?” Miguel asked as he threw open the door. “It’s not here. Fuck.”
Racing toward Max, I crouched down, still keeping my weapon in my hand. “Oh, buddy. You’re hurt. You’re going to be okay. I promise you.”
He whimpered, his tail barely thumping against the ground. I gathered him into my arms, thankful he didn’t appear shot. After placing him in the driver’s seat and closing the door, both Miguel and I crept closer to the house. The door was still closed, no one in sight. I didn’t like how quiet everything appeared, as if everyone inside the house was dead.
“There’s blood,” Miguel said under his breath, headed toward it.
I waited until he returned, the look on his face full of the same kind of anger I felt. “Marco is dead. So is Ricky.”
“Fuck. Where the hell is Andres?” Hissing, I barely managed to spit out the words.
“He probably remained inside the house.”
“Then where the hell is the goddamn vehicle?”
Miguel shook his head. “I do have a garage.”
“I don’t buy it. Something is very wrong.” I opened the door and we both slipped inside. As soon as Miguel closed the door behind us, he moved to the security pad.
“The alarm is off.”
As I’d suspected.
The foyer was pitched in blackness, only a warm glow off to the left. I could hear music coming from somewhere to the right. But no other noise.
With my weapon in both hands, we both headed toward the light, but I threw my arm out only seconds later. Hearing a sharp cry, I bristled, forced to stop Miguel from barreling into the room.
“He’s not your son,” Georgia insisted. “He’s mine. You will not lay a hand on him.”
“Why would I hurt my own child, the one you kept me away from? Tell me, Charity. How was your time on the run? Did you enjoy living in Smith Mountain?”
