Page 35 of Bad Blood
“Exactly what I said, son,” he says, matter-of-factly—as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me from twenty-five hundred miles away. “Carreras protect their own. It’s the first lesson I taught you, remember?”
Do I remember?
He never lets me forget. It’s my first memory as a child. Most kids got bedtime stories likeGoodnight Moon.I sat in my father’s lap listening to tales of revenge, blood, devils, and destiny.
“I remember,” I answer coolly.
“Then if I can’t trust you to uphold our family’s most basic rule, how am I supposed to trust you to run an entire cartel?”
And there’s the dangled carrot.The promise of an empire outside of American borders. One that spans the globe, built off the backs of three generations of Carrera men.
“The Santiagos will suffer for what they’ve done,” I swear through clenched teeth. It’s a vow I’ll honor with my dying breath, which if what Bardi claims is true, may come sooner than later.
“See that they do. Because, Santi, if they don’t...? I’ll have to assume I made a grave error in judgment.” He offers no other words and no goodbye before there’s a subtle click and the line goes dead.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
He means New Jersey—a grave error in handing me control of the East Coast.
My father may be head of this cartel, but I’m not some wide-eyed teenager who worships the ground he walks on anymore. I respect him, but I’m a man now, and New Jersey is mine. The only way I’ll be returning to Mexico is in a body bag.
No one is going to take what I’ve spent the last two years building.
Even Valentin Carrera
An eye for an eye.
To prove myself, I’ll take more than a life to make the Santiagos pay. I’ll find another way to rip at the heart of their seams. Something more personal. Something that will brand the Carrera name intotheirlegacy for generations to come.
“Carrera.” As my own name rolls off my tongue, my pulse roars with the shape of a new plan. A plan so dangerous, it will either make me a god or destroy everything.
Pulling into my private parking spot behind Legado, I kill the ignition and stare up at the brightly lit penthouse—the one licking the sky four hundred and thirty-one feet in the air. Thalia needs money. I want revenge. The debt she owes is so personal, she’ll do almost anything for it...
I smile to myself.
Even commit the ultimate sin.
Chapter Eleven
Thalia
History repeats itself,and then you die—preferably not in some cartel boss’s penthouse apartment in the middle of Atlantic City. The End.
I tuck my knees to my chest and pull the black comforter tighter around my shoulders. Everything in this room is that color, from the expensive side table and nightstands, to the chaise longue in front of the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, and the high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets that I’m lying on. The violent beast who locked me in here was born without an imagination it seems—along with decency, acceptable social skills, and a pleasant attitude to be around.
My fingers drift to the marks on my neck where he held me up against the wall of his office. No one has ever laid their hands on me like that before. No one has dared… And then to accuse me of having his precious casino targeted?Of hurting his sister in the crossfire?
From the Prince of Darkness to the King ofLoco. He’s a dual nationality of crazy.
The more I think about it, the more nothing about tonight makes sense. It’s not Edier’s style to shoot up a casino like that. As for me, I tolerate violence because it runs through my veins. It scorches the edges of my life like a match to paper, but I never seek it out, except when they deserve it.
Like Santi Carrera, for holding me against my will like this.
Like Marco Bardi, for terrorizing my sister
My heart jolts unpleasantly when I think about the sleazy Italian. Is he still waiting for me outside the casino? Did he get hurt in the chaos?The way this night is unraveling, I wouldn’t be that lucky…
I toss and turn a couple more times. I can’t get comfy in any position. There’s so much uncertainty, it’s like trying to rest on a bed of nails.There’s so much history in danger of repeating itself.
