Clever, clever. The conversation has now come to an end, and that’s a subtle way of asking me if I’m going to kill him.
“I want you to continue to do what you did for Raul with his contracts. But you’ll be managing it from here in New York.”
He furrows his brows. “Wouldn’t it have been better for me to be based in Mexico?”
“Of course, but I want you where I can see you. I can watch you better this way.” I give him that ruthless smile again, and he looks like he’s ready to shit himself. This guy is no weakling. Raul did not have weak people working for him. What he had were strong, intelligent men. So, the good thing about José is he knows when his knees should bend to someone who has more power and authority than him. That’s his survival mechanism. Nothing more.
“I can assure you, Señor Dmitriyev, I have nothing to hide.”
“I’m not some idiot, José. You haveallthe access to the workings behind the biggest cartel in this world. That’s some type of power.” This motherfucker knows things I don’t even know. He’s just as good as Felipe was and a good replacement. That’s one reason I killed Felipe right off the bat. “I’m not about to allow you to give theothersthe same access so they can try to screw with me.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t know you well enough to believe that, José.” I shake my head, keeping a sharp gaze on him. “And I’m not a man who takes risks with his fortunes. So, I want you to stay in New York and help me manage everything from here. Understand?”
“Si, Señor.” He dips his head reverently, and the snake tattooed on his neck bows, too.
“Good.”
A flash of apprehension flickers in his eyes, and I know from that he’s about to ask me about Adriana.
“Is Señorita Alvarez okay?” he asks. I give him credit for the balls it took to do it.
“She’s fine. I’m taking good care of her needs.”
It’s clear from the indignation swallowing up the nerves I previously witnessed in his eyes that he doesn’t miss the innuendo.
He presses his lips together in a thin line of displeasure, but we both know that as mad as he might be about what I’m doing to the princess, he’s not going to say anything to me about it.
I wonder how he’d feel if I told him she was enjoying how I take care of her just fine.
“Okay.”
“You can leave now.”
“Is it possible to see her?”
“I said you can leave now.”
“I just—”
I pull out my gun. That silences him. “Last chance, José Diaz. You can leave now. I told you everything you need to know about my wife-to-be.”
“I apologize, Señor.” With another dip of his head, he rises to his feet and leaves.
I return my gun to my pocket and release a heavy sigh.
I need to calm the fuck down.
It’s just that my patience is wearing thin. My patience for everything is dwindling into the ether, and I’m not known to persevere for anything.
I hate anything beyond my control, and this situation is exactly that. As the days go by and I’m nowhere close to getting things resolved, I’m pushed to that place where I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.
It all started when I realized how sick my father was and culminated in this.
Deciding I need to take a walk, I leave my office and head out to the garden in the atrium.
The garden was one of Sophia’s stress relief ideas because of the long working hours we clock in here. It runs all the way from the fifteenth floor to the ground, and because you can see it from the outside, it sets our building apart from the other multi-story buildings in the city.