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“Do you remember the first mission I sent you on?”
“To eliminate the son of the Diego Cartel out of South America.” There was no need to expound on the information. He hadn’t forgotten a single aspect of the direction he’d given me or the reason why. The man had a photographic memory, which had allowed him to keep track of every enemy he’d encountered and those who were troublesome to the few people outside his regime he trusted and admired.
The illustrious list had included my father. They’d been good friends, close enough they each considered the other a brother.
The brutal leader of the Diego Cartel had managed to slide into California and the southern states that Carlos had controlled at the time. He’d killed hundreds of Carlos’ soldiers, hijacked several important shipments of jewels and drugs, and had ceremoniously claimed California as his own. That had been long before anyone like Rutherford Warrington realized sliding into the morally gray areas of business was far more lucrative.
And Carlos’ firstborn son had been gunned down two nights before his wedding.
It was a tragedy that Carlos had never gotten over, even sending his youngest son away so Raphael Diego couldn’t have a chance to claim another life. They’d been dark times, my anger spiraling to the point of losing control.
His grip on his wineglass increased from the horrific memory.
He and my father had done favors for each other over the years, something I’d taken over at that point. Dealing with the tragedy had been one of them.
“Do you remember why I hesitated in sending you on that particular mission?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
When he turned his head, I sensed he wasn’t expecting my answer to reflect that fact I’d still been a wild child, refusing to follow his rules. I’d earned another set of scars from the brutality inflicted on me after being caught and kept in Raphael Diego’s dungeon for several weeks. The imprisonment had increased my awareness and my hunger for revenge. That had been the moment when I’d truly adapted a lust for spilling blood.
Then I’d killed the bastard’s firstborn son as required, an eye for an eye. I’d captured the moment for Carlos, waiting in the shadows long enough to hear Raphael’s sorrowful bellow when he’d opened the box wrapped in festive Christmas paper, revealing his son’s severed head.
That’s the moment I’d realized what he was telling me.
“You knew that one day Raphael would exact his revenge when you least expected it.”
He took another sip of his wine, returning his gaze to the fountain in front of us. “Exactly. I’ve always believed he would attempt to destroy the rest of my family. However, his intentions are to start with people I’ve associated with. Two of my most loyal friends were recently gunned down at the same time your father was. However, Raphael has become quite clever. He is still in his mansion in Colombia.”
If what he was telling me was a possibility, then my father’s murder stemmed from my act of retaliation. Why now?
“He’s using hired guns,” I suggested.
“It is my belief Raphael has made an alliance in blood of a different color. That is why this game you are playing is very dangerous and one that will require all your training to return to the forefront of your mind. If you are not careful, the love you feel inside will be used against you.”
I took a deep breath. “I understand.” As soon as he rose to his feet I did as well. Then I stubbed out the cigar.
He opened his arms, ready for another fatherly bearhug. As he held me close, I sensed his concern increasing. “I hope you do, Kendrick. Your father wasn’t good at telling you, but he wanted a much different life for you and your sister and brother. He truly did. Let the man rest in peace. That’s the only way you’ll find yours.”
I clapped him on the back then pulled away. “Maybe so, Carlos. However, business must go on. To that end. What favor do you need?”
His usual carefulness came into play as he moved to the stereo system in the corner, turning up the volume. Then he slipped an envelope from his pocket, handing it to me as soon as he returned. “I have a situation with someone who decided to steal from me. As you might imagine, I don’t take that lightly since I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve achieved. You don’t need to know his name, just where he resides.”
I took a few seconds, pulling out the contents. The information was concise, a photograph and a few notes on his possible locations. “When do you need the man handled?”
“As soon as you have the time. Sooner if he catches wind that I’m onto him. I’m aware of the festivities you are expected to attend. He has no idea that I even know how much money he’s extorted from me.”
“Any requests?”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Other than making it as painful as possible, just like I taught you to do. Even at my age, I find that I often need to send a message. I’d handle this one myself, but I promised Cherie a vacation to Italy. Our flights are already booked, the villa secured for a month. I would hate to disappoint her.”
“Absolutely not. I am happy to provide assistance.”
He clapped me on the back once again. “You are truly a good man. I know your father was extremely proud of you even if he didn’t say it often enough. Don’t be a stranger. When you select the wedding bands, I hope you’ll do me the honor of selecting my fine establishment.”
His booming laugh made me grin. “If that comes to pass, then absolutely. Thank you for everything.”
“I will give you one more piece of advice that I hope you’ll listen to. Be careful, my son. If you allow life to pass you by, you’ll only have regrets. You can’t take your wealth to your grave, but I do believe your memories will survive long after your body is forced to expire. Create memories and you will be a rich man.”
He’d always had words of wisdom but on this day, they were more important.
