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“Oh, there is something, but it isn’t money.”
Piero narrows his eyes. “What is it you want?”
“Intel,” I state, sitting back in my chair.
Chase presses a remote for our telecom monitor. Esteban’s face fills the surrounding screens.
“Lorenzo discovered something vital to me and refused to share the knowledge with anyone else. The secret died with him but not the source who gave him the information. We thought his hacker had inside knowledge, but she doesn’t. She didn’t even know who Esteban was.”
“Esteban Moreno? As inportador de la muerte? The Colombian drug lord?”
Gauge leans forward in his seat, his forearms resting on the conference table. “How do you know him?”
“We’re not friends if that’s what you’re asking. He and my family are competitors. We make it a habit to know who our enemies are. Italians have controlled much of the illegal drug market on the east coast and around the Great Lakes for generations. Latin drug cartels have dominated control of the west coast, fighting the Yakuza and Triad periodically. But the mountains have been relatively kept wild with various groups trying to claim ownership. With the Bravata moving in out East, the family sent Lorenzo’s father here to establish new grounds. Lorenzo took over when his father was gunned downed in Denver, and he took the organization to a whole new level. Esteban has been fighting the Bianchi mob for equal footing in Colorado for over thirty years.”
“Is the Bianchi mob still pushing drugs in Colorado, say around Pueblo?” Chase asks.
Ah.The Hell’s Horsemen MC drug issue the FBI wanted information on. Smart of Chase to ask.
Piero shakes his head. “The Bianchi family has stopped all drug operations in Colorado after Lorenzo died—too much heat from the Feds for them to continue. What do you want to know about Esteban and why?”
“We recently learned Lorenzo discovered Esteban’s safe house located here in Colorado. It’s within three hours of here in the state. Do what you want with your source, but I need Esteban’s location in Colorado.”
Piero folds his hands and leans in. “Exactly why do you want this information?”
“It’s personal.”
Like poor fucking clockwork, Josephine waltz in the room. Her arms are folded over her chest, her eyes are laser-focused on Piero. “Are you him? Lorenzo’s cousin?”
Piero’s mouth falls open. “Tiz the face which launched a thousand ships.” He rises from his chair to greet her.
She holds up her hand. “Stay right there.”
Piero stands in place, smiling at her. “It’s an honor to meet the woman who killed my sadistic cousin.”
Josephine straightens her shoulders. “Well, that honor is reserved for my mother. She’s the one who ran him over.”
“With his car, no less. It’s poetic justice,” Piero chuckles. I may not like the Don playing nice with my wife, but I’m not sensing any danger.
It shouldn’t surprise me that Josephine showed up. In a way, it’s like standing up to the man who wanted to harm her, even if it’s only a family member of his.
“It’s not a laughing matter,” she says with steel in her voice. “Your cousin attacked my family and me, forcing my mom to defend herself and us.”
Piero gives a slight bow of the head. “My apologies. My attempt to make light of the situation was in poor taste. I do not hold my cousin in high regard. His behavior was deplorable, and he got his just desserts.”
The thick tension which had peaked when Josephine had entered the room has dissipated. Josephine’s eyes scrutinize the Don like she is unsure of his sincerity, but no longer threatened by his presence.
“Ven, mi amor,”I beckon her.
Josephine throws him another glance before coming to the head of the table. Once she reaches me, I gently pull her onto the chair next to me—a queen beside her king.
“Cálmese,”I coo in her ear. “Lorenzo’s cousin wanted to pay his respects, offering his sincere apology.”
Josephine arches an eyebrow, doubt in her aqua eyes.
“He also wants information on his cousin’s business dealing to dismantle them,” I add.
Now that information piques her interest. She cocks her head at the Don, glowering. “Does he have to look exactly like the douche canoe?”
