Page 38 of Unforgiving Queen
I shot the tire, causing the car to swerve to the side, but before it could reach me, my dear brother launched a grenade through the air.
“Are you fucking nuts?” Kingston barked, one of the rare occasions his voice reflected his emotions. “The entire French police force will feel that fucking grenade.”
I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Luca DiMauro.
Turn the shipment around. Red flag.
He’d understand. With efficiency, we moved, eliminating the rest of the men I suspected worked for the Cortes cartel. Red blurred my vision, but I refused to let it hinder me.
In the span of five minutes, we eliminated every enemy but two. Dante dragged one by his hair while I got the leader. If he could be called that.
“Maldito bastardo,” he spat out.
Dante got into his face. “We. Don’t. Speak. Asshole.”
Kingston shook his head. It was all we fucking did.
“Where is your whore?” the fucker spat out, glaring at me. “It takes a whore’s son to recognize a whore.”
Rage zipped through me but I just smiled. “We’ll discuss that in a bit.”
He could call me a whore’s son until the cows came home, but it was a death sentence to callhera whore. I was fairly certain that’s who he meant.
“Let’s get these two somewhere we can teach them a lesson,” I drawled, my smile matching my brother’s.
Years of training taught me to be calm. It trained me to control my emotions, be self-sufficient, self-reliant, and keep anyone from getting into my head. Exceptshehappened, the only one who’d ever managed to raise the complex feelings that lingered inside me.
I was cursed to walk this eternal abyss of a life alone.
Mother’s secrets, lies, and betrayal buried deep inside me. Everything that happened tainted each word and moment with her, and I didn’t think there was a way back from it.
Tension descended over me like an iron curtain. I had to move on, but I didn’t knowhow.
The fucking Brazilian cartel thought they could attack our warehouse on the outskirts of Paris and steal our product.
They must have smoked the product, because they were fucking crazy if they thought we owed them anything.
I smoothed my hair and adjusted the buttons on my jacket that had come undone. I watched now as Ghost collected the teeth of each man he killed or injured. At this rate, he could build a house of fucking teeth.
With the two men we kept alive, we arrived at the warehouse ten minutes away. It’d buy us enough time to drag some information out of this sidekick and the main guy, whose name was Raul and would soon be dead. But first, he’d tell me why in the fuck he was on my property.
“You’re starting a war with the cartel,” he said in a heavy accent, then spit at my feet.
“I’m not starting anything,” I said calmly, apathetically. “You started this clusterfuck. I’m simply finishing it.”
He was a bulky man with a buzz cut. Not overly intelligent, judging by how easily we’d taken his entire crew down. And yet, hope lingered in his eyes.
“Now tell me, what does Perez Cortes want with my shit?”
“He wants retribution and payment for the product you cost him,” Raul said behind clenched teeth.
Dante made his way over, dragging a Brazilian by his head, and threw him beside Raul. The rat looked at his leader, his entire body trembling.
“Por favor,” he muttered. “Por favor.”
“Tell us what you know and we’ll make it quick.” I fetched my knife. “Otherwise, we’ll make this a week-long affair.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Raul instructed.
