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It was a shame, because I’d always admired the their luxury home. Part of me had even coveted the overt wealth they commanded. But I was rich and powerful in my own right, and I wasn’t stupid enough to live in a house with ostentatious, glass front doors.
At the same time as I navigated the vast hallways of the Vera family’s damaged mansion, Stefano would be hitting Miguel Armendariz’s estate hard. He’d batter his way to Carmen and take out anyone who stood in his way. It was a shame that I wouldn’t be able to kill Daniel myself, but I was certain Stefano would handle it. I’d never seen him so worked up, like the loss of Carmen was tearing him apart, shredding his cool, calculated composure. No one on that estate would survive his wrath.
I had my own wrath boiling inside my chest, and it was past time to unleash it. Arturo might have delayed the inevitable, but he’d be begging for death before I finally permitted him that mercy.
Half a dozen of my men closed ranks behind me, filtering toward the bunker now that their marks had been taken out. Others would keep searching the sprawling manor and watching the perimeter for potential backup arriving, but I doubted we’d come up against any further resistance. Anyone left alive wouldn’t dare to attack. They wouldn’t survive any stupid acts of bravery, and they likely knew it.
The only key player we hadn’t found was Daniel’s sister, Isabel, but the timid girl would hardly pose a threat, even if she was here. I’d prefer not to take her to Stefano by force, but her family had chosen to betray him. He would decide what to do with her, once I took care of Arturo.
As my team moved deeper into the house, I sensed the steely presence of Sebastián Castillo at my back. The quietly menacing bastard could be intimidating, but I didn’t mind the older man shadowing me so closely. He might have a decade or so on me, but he served faithfully and lethally. If Arturo did have any nasty surprises set up for us, Sebastián was my most reliable ally on a job like this. He was pitiless and utterly unshakable.
When we reached the steep stairs that led down to the sub-basement level, I paused with my back pressed to the wall and signaled for two of my men to open fire into the dank, dark space below. A burst of sharp reports cracked through the air, the lethal staccato amplified in the cramped space. An agonized cry echoed up the concrete-lined passage, confirming the presence of surviving guards outside the bunker. I waved again, and a second volley of bullets proceeded us before we descended the stairs, moving quickly to ensure we weren’t caught in the bottleneck space. I wouldn’t make us easy targets for anyone who might be left standing below.
We reached the corridor to find four dead men. Our swift, merciless assault had eliminated the only guards that remained. All that stood between me and my quarry was a thick, steel door.
We had a blowtorch for that. It would take a few minutes, but the wait would be excruciating for Arturo. The thought of him scurrying around like a rat in a cage helped to calm the maddening fury that threatened to bubble over, obliterating what was left of my tenuous control. I needed that control, so I could savor punishing Arturo. If I flew into a blind rage, I might crush him too quickly.
The hiss and sizzle of the white-hot flame melting steel matched the simmering heat coursing through me, and the echo calmed me further. I settled into my anger, harnessing its strength as a purposeful burn in my muscles.
The heavy door shifted, giving way. I slammed my boot into the metal, breaking down the barrier with a resounding boom. The harsh burst mingled with a sharp scream, followed immediately by the bang of a gun being fired. Arturo barked out a rough shout as his shoulder was shoved back by the impact of the bullet. A Glock dropped from his hand, which dangled limply from his injured shoulder.
I spared a glance and a nod at Sebastián, who was lowering his own gun, now that his shot had found its mark. The older man had been quick to disarm Arturo, and I wasted no time throwing myself at my enemy.
I kicked his fallen weapon far out of reach as my fists curled in his shirt. Leveraging my forward momentum, I slammed him back against the wall. He screamed when his torn shoulder hit the concrete, staining the dull gray with a streak of dark crimson.
The whites of his rolling eyes flashed through the gloom. A low growl rumbled from deep in my chest as I slowly lowered my face to his, letting him feel the heat of my fury closing in on him. His throat convulsed, and he spluttered twice before me managed to force out a ragged plea.
