Page 135 of Cartel King

“And what, Enrique? You’re getting even greedier with age.”

“The ‘and what’ is that you apologize to my woman. You stay the fuck away from her and her family because they’re my family now, too.”

“You want me to apologize to the person who started all this?”

“She did a job just like any other mercenary any of us have hired. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“Fine. Should I send you a basket of pears or something?”

“You can apologize right now.”

Ellie came back down from our room after I strategized with my nephews. Luis had to fly down to Colombia this morning to sort out some shit with one of our mules. Fucker got himself locked up. Since I’ve been speaking Spanish throughout this call, Ellie’s just sat quietly. I don’t know how much she’s understood, but I don’t think it was much since I was speaking faster than usual.

“Speak.”

The call’s already on speakerphone, so Ellie can hear Jesus.

“Señora, I apologize for drawing you into all of this. You wanted to get out, and you weren’t working for the Vizzinis anymore. I should have dealt with Tommaso since you just did your job. I’m sorry.”

He practically chokes on the first and last sentences.

“Let’s put this behind us.”

Ellie doesn’t accept his apology, and he knows it. But he also won’t push the issue. He’s lucky she isn’t assembling her rifle right now.

She was ready to go after her Registered Agent who hired Johann and Gérard for Jesus, but he took his own life when he discovered how badly he failed because even the obscene amount of money Jesus paid him wasn’t worth it. He didn’t want to give her a chance to find him.

She doesn’t need to know everything else I’m planning for Jesus. I’m certain she knows it’s not over, but her role is. She stands, and I press a quick kiss to her lips before she slips out of my office.

“Do we have a deal, Jesus?” I’m calm enough now that I lapse back into English.

“Yes. But we’re even after this.”

“Until you fuck up again.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll await your call,el patrón.”

“A la chingada.”

I hang up. Patronizing fuck calling meel patrón. That title’s far beneath me, but he knows he can only push so far.

“Where do we stand on everything else?”

Alejandro crosses his arms and smirks. “The ships are well on their way to the Port of Nagoya, and there’s not shit Maks can do about it.”

Jorge’s already smirking as he drums his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “The IRS is breathing down Pasha’s neck, and he’s running in circles to keep them from digging in too many places. It’s great.”

Pablo looks up from the text he was reading. “Salvatore just got a pissed off call from Don Torretta about Tommaso doing business with the Razzanos. Salvatore was on his way to a meeting on Staten Island and turned around. From what I got from our guy in Palermo, Tommaso’s fucked every which way from Sunday.”

“Make sure he deduces this is his punishment for involving Ellie while leaving no proof we caused it.”

“Already taken care of.”

“Shocking the O’Rourkes actually had nothing to do with this. I was certain they were up to their asses in it when we found the O’Briens.”

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