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I hadn’t given a shit.
What I had eliminated were Irish, Russian, and Chinese.
Which left Italian or Spanish.
So, then we decided to focus our efforts there and worked our way into the Mexican cartel—Decker—and Italian mafia—Nathan.
That was six years ago.
And despite multiple leads over the years, we still haven’t found Carlos.
Among the images on the wall in my office are facial recognition artists’ and software drawings of what I remembered Carlos looking like.
Every day, I stare at it and let my rage flow.
There are also images of all the mafia, their families, connections, and other gangsters he could’ve been working for or with. We put together profiles on all of them. It is like a fucking episode ofCSIin there.
I knew this was going to take time, but my patience is running out.
Six damn years.
One of the biggest issues is getting close to the inner circle of the mob bosses.
They don’t trust easily, and both Nathan and Decker are Americans. Neither Italian nor Mexican.
We are at a disadvantage.
Frankly, I am getting concerned they have been in there too long. Both of them have done things they’ve despised to prove themselves and fit it.
Things that destroy a man’s soul.
There is only so much I can do to counter it on the outside without compromising them. I feel useless some days, wanting in on the action, but my face is too well known by most Americans, so it is impossible.
Instead, I keep the Dark Kings safe. I pull strings when needed with law enforcement and get them out of tricky situations.
Detective Scott is now working in the FBI, nearing retirement, and the one man aside from the Dark Kings—which includes Mack—who knows what I am doing. He doesn’t completely agree, but I don’t give a fuck. Let’s just say, he is going to retire a wealthy man, and not because of his pension. So, he helps when I ask.
Tonight, I am meeting with Nathan.
It is always risky to connect, but we keep most meets tight and fast. When Decker was on U.S. soil, we met at our Dark King’s headquarters in Lower Manhattan.
My phone beeps with a message from Mack.
A new location has been set.
AN HOUR LATER, my workoutis done, and I step into the shower. Mia enters my mind again.
Damn, she was sweet. All that cinnamon and honey, like Christmas time, only hotter.
I press the button on the wall, direct the seven shower heads to different angles, and power them up. Fuck, yeah. The muscles in my body begin to relax.
I should’ve fucked her in the shower.
A missed opportunity.
Another button and the water stops. Reaching for a thick black towel, I dry off and then walk back into the bedroom naked, rubbing the towel across the back of my head.
I reach for my cock, wishing that woman was lying on my sheets, when something catches my eye. It’s white and sticking out from under the bed, near where Mia dressed this morning.
