Before me, the lines of crates, boxes, and more bags of all kinds of illicit drugs litter every inch of the space. Behind me, between the peeling gray walls streaked with strums of white, there’s a corridor that leads to a small office for me. But today, I choose to be out here… in the center of my success.
Elio and I arrived in Brooklyn in the early hours of this morning, and my men were already on the ground, right on schedule. A deal was going down tonight and I needed to personally oversee this operation, especially with a mole still on the loose in the cartel. Though I tightened the flow of information, the Canadians count on me to deliver, so it has to be business as usual… no interference.
I cross one leg before the other, leaning forward in my seat as I stare at the small photo in my hand. Brown eyes and brown hair, the man I recruited last year stares back at me. Tomasso Gonzalez looks unsuspicious with a wide, boyish grin and a moderate build that holds an AK-47 before his frame. Of course, it isn’t far-fetched that he’s the mole.
After Elio had confirmed to me three days ago that we had eyes on the mole, I’d been planning. Initially, I’d planned on using a schemed mission as bait. Since we discovered he’d been making calls to unknown numbers, we figured it'd be best to bait him with information— give just him the details of the mission— if it’s compromised, then he’s indeed the mole.
But this mission is too important to be used. My fingers involuntarily tighten until I make a hole in the photograph, right through his head just where I’ll kill him once the time is right.
Apprehending him now will not give us all the information we need. It’s better to let him believe he has outsmarted me and eventually lead us to the source of our problems. The real mastermind behind this.
It doesn’t take a genius to know there is a higher person using my men against me. And the minute I unmask their identity, I swear to God, I’ll kill every fucking one of them.
Anger fills me, but I don’t let it settle as I focus my attention on the contents of my steel desk. Several tightly wrapped bags of heroin are before me, the white powder peeking through the transparent nylon. Bluish scales complete the view with a foldable lamp standing tall in the center of the bags. I raise my head to sniff the drugs from the bags before finding my lighter.
Pulling the cigarette between my lips, I set the tip on fire and take a quick drag, then I bring my eyes to the man in front of me.
“Everything on schedule?” I ask the foreman.
He wipes the sweat off his brow. “Yes, Boss. The vans will be ready soon.”
With a nod, I check the Richard Mille watch strapped on my left wrist. We seem to be beating time. Good. “Ensure the drivershave the route right. No stops. No distractions. I do not want any surprises.”
“Understood.”
He gives a curt nod, but before he turns, I ask again. “You said the new shipment came in clean,” I demanded, puffing on my cigar without glancing at him.
“Sí, Boss. Straight from Colombia. No tampering.”
My eyes skim the parcels on the table. It does look clean, but I’ll be damned if I am not ready for surprises.
I reach for the drawer and pull out a sleek metal case. Setting the cigar down on an ashtray, I flip the latches of the box open with a flick of my wrist. Inside is a small kit− scales, vials, and a razor blade.
Taking the razor, I slice through the top of one bag. The material splits cleanly and reveals fine white powder beneath. I pinch a small amount of the product and feel the texture, then taste my finger.
My head tilts to the side. Seems legit enough.
“It is pure.” I glance at the man in charge, who looks relieved. Then, I glance around the space, clapping my palms to hurry them up. “Hurry the fuck up!”
The men instantly double up while the foreman moves to reseal the bag on the table.
Macho and muscular as they are, I know they don't have the guts to openly challenge me. This brings my thoughts back to Raven… as if I have ever stopped thinking about the events of that night.
Her bravery both amuses me and catches me off guard. She got to me the best way she knew, and I applaud her for that. As much as I despise her shenanigans, I’m still a man with desires and a penchant for beautiful, naked women.
Raven knew exactly what she was doing to me when she stripped off that towel without a second thought.Fuck! That body. My mouth still waters at the imagery. Something in me stirs that goes just beyond my dick and, as odd as it may seem, I decide to keep her around for longer.
Noticing Elio walking towards me, I push Raven to the back of my mind. “Qualcuno è qui per vederti(Someone is here to see you),” he says. “È importante(It’s important).”
That’s odd. I am not expecting any visitors, and definitely not at a place like this. “Chi(Who)?”
“Agent Miller.”
The drug enforcement agent. He rarely shows up here. I briefly wonder why.
“Dov'è lui(Where is he)?”
Elio jerks his head toward the back. “Là(Over there).Sta aspettando(He’s waiting).”