Page 112 of Devil's Claim

She huffed her annoyance and squeezed my arm, leaning in. “Don’t let him bother you. He’s this way all the time. Insufferable.” She tossed her husband a hateful look before walking away.

Suddenly two of the men Diego had been talking with moved closer. I guess I’d make my point while in the company of a few hundred people. At least my finesse could come into play. I took a sip of my drink, keeping one hand shoved into my trouser pocket.

He shifted from foot to foot, waiting until his buddies moved closer. “I’m surprised you’re here, Mr. Blanco.”

“Why would that be? I’ve come to reclaim a shipment that was wrongly obtained. As you might imagine, theft of my property isn’t acceptable.”

“Your property.” He laughed and so did his minions. “I thought you worked for someone. Am I to assume you’ve taken control?”He believed he could make me uncomfortable. He had no clue what I was made of.

“Well, let’s just say I have total control of product development and sales. What I say goes. With everyone.”

“I see,” he mused. “What a shame I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you were attempting to sell illegal product, using our beautiful country to traffic your wares, then I applaud my hard-working men in their efforts to sweep the streets of a dangerous substance.” His voice was loud enough the deep baritone provided a show for those closest to the circle.

I laughed along with the group as I took a step forward. He took it as a threat, his entire body bristling.

He was right.

While a smile remained on my face, I was direct with my comments. I had no interest in belaboring the bullshit or spending more time with the man. He reeked of lies and scandal. While patience wasn’t my virtue, I allowed myself a long swallow of the expensive liquor before responding to his soliloquy. “I’m certain that a man like yourself can appreciate every organization’s struggle to keep product on their shelves. Some even risk their lives to ensure quality and timely service. When something gets in the way of the production model, that makes upper management cranky as fuck. In turn, I’ll do anything I can to ensure the mishap, which is what I’m going to call the situation, is rectified. At all costs.”

I allowed the words to linger, taking a few seconds to look his minions in the eyes. They were both annoyed and concerned. I was getting somewhere.

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Blanco?”

My grin was wide. “Not at all, Diego.” I purposely used his first name. His title meant shit since he was on the take. “You understand and value profit. Even if you are serving the good of your people. I’m certain you’re intelligent enough to comprehend what I’m promising. After all, I owe it to the hardworking men and women working in my employ. Now, I’m certain there’s been a mix-up and that’s acceptable. What I won’t accept is any further delay. Do I have your assurance that the cargo will be provided to the shipper of my choice by tomorrow evening?”

Diego’s eyes flashed and he gritted his teeth. The tension was palpable, but I could tell by his unfocused gaze he knew the threat was very real. “I’ll check with my people.”

“You do that. If I need to go over your head, which I don’t want to do, then I will. However, I doubt you’ll appreciate the method that I use to rectify the situation.” I held out my hand for him to shake, curious if he would continue the charade for his lavish guests. While he accepted the handshake with a smile, his eyes had narrowed. The asshole was determining whether I’d made good on my… word. Perhaps I’d need to provide him with a sample of what I could do. “Thank you so much for inviting me to such a fabulous event. I wish you much continued success in your career.”

“Likewise, Mr. Blanco. I’m always happy to make friends with someone of such high esteem.”

His words were said with conviction, but the fear in his eyes and the sweat beading across his forehead were a dead giveaway he knew he was on thin ice.

I nodded to the others before backing away, once again scanning the room to see who’d been playing close attention. Asexpected, there were several leaders of gangs rival to Eduardo’s operations, brutal savages who pretended to cater to Diego’s needs. As with almost everyone in the room, they were merely playing a game of cat and mouse.

Something I couldn’t quite ascertain nagged the back of my mind. I stopped long enough to sweep the room again.

The use of games had no place in the Torres regime. We prided ourselves in being straightforward in every aspect of business.

Which was why for me the night’s business had been concluded. I’d stated the consequences for continuing to follow the path Diego was on. However, I remained inside the estate, pretending to admire Diego’s collection of garish art while I finished my drink. I’d seen Eduardo chatting with the man in charge of the Mexican military, another blowhard with little sense of responsibility. He was also the second most corrupt man in politics. But he did have an affinity for Cuban cigars, which Eduardo supplied on a regular basis.

I checked my watch, more than eager for the evening to be concluded. Tomorrow would be spent ensuring Diego did as instructed. If not, my trip would need to be extended. That wouldn’t make me a happy man. Leaving Christine had raised several red flags. While she was in good hands with Genevieve and the soldiers guarding her, my absence made for a perfect opportunity for a personal attack.

Before I had an opportunity to inform Eduardo it was time to leave, the discussion he was involved in took a turn. Diego was red-faced and close to shouting. His uncontrollable anger was another reason I loathed the self-indulgent pig.

Before I had a chance to intervene, Eduardo abruptly turned, slammed his drink on a table, and walked into the hallway leading to the foyer. Whatever had been said inspired a smirk with the others in the conversation.

I placed my drink on the bar before heading out, finding Eduardo already instructing two of his men to retaliate.

“We’re leaving,” I told him. “Before you do something stupid.”

Eduardo snarled. “You don’t know what I just lost in there. I had everything under control until some fucking Moroccan asshole came into the picture.”

“What did you say?” I stated in a calm voice as I got in his face.

He remained flustered. “Some asshole attempting to weasel his way into Mexico. That’s not going to happen.”

“Jamal Fassi?”

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