From all accounts, Calleja had risen from the very depths of hell, demanding respect from the various soldiers even before the former leader was dead and buried. He was a nobody before and in my mind was nothing but a rat in a cage.
I knew enough about Alviro Calleja to realize that he was little more than a pig. Reported to be of Sicilian and Portuguese descent, his love of playing games had been well documented. He was a man with no conscience, kidnapping and murder considered his mild tactics. It would be interesting to finally meet him in person one day, especially given the secrecy regarding his identity. The thought was amusing.
His second in command was just as barbaric; Manuel Peron little more than a thug, incapable of reasoning. Why send him for a conversation? He was in charge of the soldiers, his brutality almost as well known as the man he worked for. Something smelled of deceit and lies. While I’d honor my father’s wishes for now, allowing the man to walk out unharmed, I was certainly prepared for any situation.
The double doors just inside opened up to a stunning atrium, the wooden floors polished to perfection. Even the bar itself was a thing of beauty, the two-hundred-year-old wood salvaged from a wrecked pirate ship. As I walked by, I brushed my fingers over the smooth surface, savoring the way the lacquered finish felt against my skin.
“Mr. Santiago,” the bartender said as she inched closer to the edge. “Such a pleasure to see you again, sir. Your usual?”
Her tone was sultry, suiting her voluptuous body with curves that simply wouldn’t stop. Even the crimson dress she was wearing made my mouth water, although I’d never touch the merchandise. After all, my family owned over fifty percent of the business, a fact that wasn’t well known. We never mixed business with pleasure.
“Why not?” I drummed my fingers on the table, scanning the room as she gave me a provocative nod, moving off to prepare my cocktail of choice. The clientele who frequented the bar were mostly wealthy retired men, their hunger for gambling and the attention of stunning women more of a necessity than a latent desire.
I also noticed the two Los Charlines guards flanking both sides of the expansive room. I was beginning to smell a setup and in my own establishment.
When the lovely bartender slid the Bombay and tonic across the bar, I didn’t bother looking in her direction. Maria had worked with the organization long enough to know when my business could be... tedious. As she walked away, I had no doubt her next task would be to call the cleanup crew, preparing them for a disposal operation.
I took a sip, studying the two men who’d obviously been brought as protection. I’d made it my business to learn the identities of the majority of the Los Charlines soldiers. The two assholes were unknowns, which meant the rival mafia group had been on a hiring binge. Evidently, plans had escalated, Calleja’s threats regarding a takeover attempt credible.
Whatever message was being delivered should be interesting. I only hoped I could honor my promise.
I scanned the perimeter as I took several sips, savoring the smoothness of the liquor. The soldiers’ participation was a clear indication that the organization had already slipped into our territory. It would seem their illustrious leader was in the mood to push the envelope.
Either that or he’d simply made a tactical error, one that I could certainly rectify beginning today if necessary. What I loathed were childish games and Calleja had a penchant for them. It would be good to end his reign.
I enjoyed another sip before walking toward the patio, gazing out at the impressive gardens. The beautiful sounds of birds and other wildlife mixed with the cascading water from the oversized fountain. Everything was breathtaking. Fortunately, the majority of customers had already moved on to the various high-stakes poker games, prepared to gamble away millions of dollars. Just another typical day in... paradise.
I noticed the man in question standing by the sculpted waterfall, his posture relaxed. I had to give the man credit. He had balls. There was no sign of additional soldiers, but I remained on edge. While the restaurant was protected by a top-notch security system, there were ample opportunities for soldiers to sneak their way onto the property. As I walked closer, keeping the drink in my hand, I reached into my pocket, removing the SIG Sauer, my preferred weapon of use.
I walked to within two feet, taking another swig of my drink. I kept my voice low. There was no need to draw attention to the scene. “Mr. Peron. I must say that I find it fascinating that you requested a meeting. To what do I owe this honor?” I wanted to choke on my words.
After chuckling, he turned to face me, lifting his glass at the same time, although his other hand had already shifted his jacket, prepared to grab his weapon. While he was considered a crack shot, there’d be a slim chance in hell he could get off a single round before finding a bullet between his eyes. “Second born son, Rafael Santiago. I always enjoyed your company.”
“Too bad I can’t say the same thing, Manuel. Why don’t we cut the chitchat? Why the fuck are you here? Did that animal send you?” His dig was painful, although I didn’t show it. The second born son usually meant nothing within any mafia organization. My world had been forced into a change.
Manuel took a deep breath, his eyes still twinkling. The fucker found this entirely too amusing, as if the clan had gotten the upper hand. “Tell me, how is your father, the illustrious Don?” he countered, taking another sip of his drink.
His words were meant as another jab, an attempt to rile my anger. “He is excellent. I’ll make certain Sanchez is aware you were asking.”
He nodded several times. “Be sure to do that. As far as why I’m here, Mr. Calleja would like to offer your organization a deal.”
“A deal?” I said, laughing. “We don’t make deals.” I started to turn away, knowing there was a hell of a lot more to this game.
“Oh, I assure you, you’re going to want to hear this. I would call it vital to the continuation of your operation.”
Exhaling, I tilted my head, finally locking eyes with his. “Vital. Be careful how you throw those words around, Peron. What is this deal?”
“Simple. Give us fifty percent of your operation and we’ll allow your people to live.”
I’d been involved in negotiating deals before. This time, I was honestly shocked at the man’s audacity. I couldn’t help but smile as I shook my head. “I’m sorry you made the trip. You see, we have nothing to talk about, Manuel, at least not in that regard. Now, for all your trouble in coming here, I will give you a single opportunity to tell me where Alviro is. It would seem I need to have this discussion with him.”
He took a deep whiff as he swirled his drink, finally offering a smile. “Unfortunately, Mr. Calleja only engages in discussions with those in charge. I’m afraid you aren’t that man; however, given you refuse to accept Mr. Calleja’s generous offer, you can certainly give your father a message.”
I remained quiet, refusing to engage with him. What no one knew was that my father longed to take a step back, allowing me to take the helm. However, the transition wouldn’t be widely accepted and even possibly considered a weakness in the Santiago family. There was enough turbulence, other organizations hoping for a larger piece of our pie, including the thug Manuel worked for.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Rafael. I suggest you consider the opportunity you have in expanding your territory.”