Page 1 of No Darker Temptation

PROLOGUE: THE SINS OF THE FATHER

Barcelona, Spain

May 2013

Lisandro Narvaez was good at everything.

Except being a crime boss.

He was well-read and quick on his feet, not to mention compassionate and empathetic. Much of who he was had been shaped by his mother, a former poet with an altruistic soul. Her hopeless sense of romanticism had been passed down to him while the other three Narvaez children inherited their father’s unwavering cynicism.

His eldest son, Alejandro, possessed a sharpness Lisandro had never mastered and his youngest son, Diego, was developing a keen sense of awareness as if everyone around him was an enemy. They would make a good Don and second in command one day…if that was the future he had envisioned for his sons, once such sweet and gentle boys, whose innocence was being rapidly corroded by the corruption of his own lifestyle. In Lisandro’s defense, he hadn’t known any better. He was born into this life, just like his brother and sisters, with whom he was at odds with for the first time in their lives.

They loved each other—because how could they not—but the four children of Salazar Narvaez were at a crossroads. They agreed on almost everything, compromised on the things they didn’t, and most importantly, conducted family business with the interests of the family above all else. Even money.

But it seemed for the first time in their lives, the four Narvaez siblings had finally encountered an issue they could not agree on or compromise for.

Legitimization.

“You want to stake the future of this family,” said Jimena, the youngest. “On a rundown shop in Barri Gòtic?”

She kicked a turned over wooden crate for emphasis.

“Maybe not right now,” Lisandro countered. “But look at this place! It has good bones and a strong foundation. Not to mention⁠—”

Leticia, the elder of his two sisters and second youngest, pointed toward the ceiling. “Might we continue this conversation outside? I’d rather my children didn’t have to dig me out from under decades’ worth of ceiling rot. Not to mention the havoc this putrid air is wreaking on my skin. I just had a chemical peel last week.”

Horacio ceased his wandering long enough to cast a look in his sister’s direction. He then met Lisandro’s gaze before rolling his eyes and walked over to the bar. Dust and cobwebs obstructed the view of the mirror behind it and wooden stools with broken legs were shoved under the counter.

Yes, Lisandro knew the space was worse for wear. The paint and tiles were chipping away, the support columns had cracks in them, and half the windows were broken, not to mention graffiti marred what were once beautiful walls. He hadn’t even ventured upstairs yet as the stairs looked a single breath away from collapse.

But he had a vision for this place. He knew it could be something great.

“We already have the hacienda in Mexico. Horacio’s cruise ship business is taking off and Jimena’s hotels are expanding. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to invest the bulk of our fortune into businesses that produce legitimate revenue. Cast a broad, wide net.” Lisandro explained, impassioned if not a bit delirious. “I was thinking, why not develop a chain of secret locations. Lounges so to speak.”

Horacio paused at the bar and when their sisters looked to him for direction he merely shrugged and bit into the apple he had with him. “Makes no difference to me.”

Jimena opened her mouth to speak but Leticia spoke instead. “Well, it does to me. Considering you’re asking us to dump over a million euros into your new little passion project.”

“It’s not dumping it’s investing,” he corrected. “We pick locations like this—hidden treasures, little holes in the walls no one would ever think to look at. We restore them completely and turn them into lounges that shift from day to night. They’ll be exclusive, illusive, private. Invitation only to start.”

Leticia’s eyes sparked with interest. “Like speakeasies?”

Lisandro’s shoulders deflated with relief. She always understood him best. “Yes. Exactly. A place whose existence spreads through word of mouth only. It’ll certainly attract an elite clientele. And with different locations around the world, it could metamorphosize into something different, bigger.”

“Like an elite underground society.” Jimena cracked a smile. “Lisandro, I think the only thing you managed to do here was create organized crime without the crime.”

He sucked his teeth. “God damn it. I’m one clever son of a bitch aren’t I?”

Leticia’s resolve wavered as her eyes scoured the premises, the stormy gray hue deepening as she sighed. “Ay, Dios mio, Lisandro…” She sighed. “How much is this going to cost us?”

Horacio said, “We’re worth billions. What does that matter?”

“It matters because he’s asking us to fund from our personal fortunes and not the family po.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well? Spit out a number.”

Lisandro lifted a finger. “How about this. As an incentive, we can all be part owner.”

“Part owner of an imaginary business with no funding, staff, or projected clientele? How attractive. You certainly inherited our father’s cunning for business.”