Page 18 of Chris

For now.

He needed to keep the act up.

The guard hadn’t lied.

Chris stared up at the almost white-blue sky, the sun so bright, it still hurt his eyes behind the dark sunglasses he wore. His distraction only lasted as long as it took for the creak of metal to bring his attention back to what was important.

The guards stepped aside as the gate opened.

Gian moved forward first, but Chris was fast to follow behind. Just beyond the wrought metal gate, a pathway made of red stone and lined with towering trees led them toward the front of the mansion. Waiting on white marble steps were two men, both of whom Chris recognized, although he kept that to himself.

Still needed to keep up that act …

“Gian Guzzi, and … son, correct?” the man standing just beyond the other asked.

Jorge Lòpez.

In his head, Chris did a mental inventory of the man and also what he knew about him. From the yellow silk dress shirt he wore, with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, to the black slacks that looked pressed from an iron. This was the man they forced Valeria to marry, according to the information they had, and he was also the oldest son of the cartel’s former leader.

Well, that’s what they assumed. No one had a clue if the former leader was a former, but from all public appearances, Jorge ran the show now.

“Chris,” Gian said, “my son’s name is Chris. We were not sure what to expect today, but this home is a lovely spot for a meeting.”

“Our father’s,” the man just behind Jorge stated.

Samuel.

Second son of the Lòpez leader. Brother to Jorge. Chris wouldn’t concern himself with Samuel, except for the fact he was a Lòpez, and there. Part of it all and possibly keeping Valeria hidden somewhere.

Or was she even hidden here?

Yet to be determined.

Gian continued his greetings with the Lòpez brothers while Chris took in his surroundings. He blamed that on his training at The League, and not so much the fact he was a made man. They had taught him to find what he needed to deal with first. To take in his surroundings, and everything else, too.

Then, there were as little surprises as possible. Although, should a surprise come up on him, he would handle that knowing everything else around him. It was all in the details, really.

“And,” Gian said to Chris’s left as he noted the white trim around the windows of the mansion, “once we hammer down the main details, I will take a step back because I have business to attend to at home. I can’t leave it for long.”

“Which is where your son will come in, sí?” Jorge asked, his accent thickening his English.

“Chris will take over whatever you need here for my side of things. I intend to involve myself in all of this, even if it is from afar and I want to understand how things will work, where everything will be held, and how you intend to smuggle the cocaine over. I hope you understand, but I am a details man.”

Jorge chuckled. “As am I, Gian.”

“Oui, well, when I am guaranteeing you the ability to supply to all of Canada through my organization and contacts, I am sure you won’t be uncomfortable with allowing us a stay here, and time to understand your business, and process, Mr. Lòpez.”

“We’ll make it work,” Samuel muttered, “although we’re not accustomed to someone who wants all the details. We rarely work that way.”

“Except we will in this case,” Jorge added, “a deal with you ensures we will be the largest producing and supplying cartel in Mexico.”

Chris didn’t miss the way the two brothers passed a look between them, something unsaid lingering in their stares. He tucked it into the back of his mind and returned to surveying the grounds.

“And you won’t take issue with my son doing the majority of the work and passing word back then?” Gian asked.

“Is that why he’s currently scoping us out?”

Chris didn’t miss the sharpness of Jorge Lòpez’s tone. He came back to the conversation, smiling carefully to make sure the man didn’t think he was malicious in his perusal of the grounds.