Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
I smile, but the thought of any harm coming to Valentina leaves me cold. “We’ll worry about that bridge if and when we cross it.”
A few hours later, we arrive at the upscale hotel to meet with Arturo and his oldest son to hash out the details. Looks like Valentina is not in on this meeting, which is just as well. Right now, I need to focus on work, not on getting my dick wet. There would be time for that later.
Though there’s no doubt who is in charge, Arturo lets his son do the so-called negotiating. Benedicto starts by saying, “The Reckless Souls will accept our shipments at the port when they arrive. Then adds, “No matter when they arrive,” just to make sure we know who’s in charge. “You will then move them to the Morgan International warehouses so we won’t have to deal with any import or export bullshit.”
“That’s fine,” Ace says with a blank expression.
Benedicto grins. “The goal is to mix our product in with the legitimate shipments through Morgan International before they leave for parts unknown.”
“Gee, is that how drug trafficking works? Thanks for letting us know,” I grunt at the idiot son. “Without you, we’d be lost.”
Benedicto glares at me, and I smile in return. “Shipments will arrive once each week, and if it’s more frequent, you will have advance notice. Do you think your men can manage that?”
“Not my first rodeo,” Ace assures them both. “Probably won’t be the last either.”
Arturo nods, remaining silent. My guess is that he’s testing his heir apparent to see how he holds up under pressure.
“So we have a deal, then? You will accept our shipments and move them to the space dedicated to Morgan International?”
Ace nods slowly. “As long as you don’t attempt to send people through, we won’t have a problem. If you even try to pull that shit with us, I promise you will regret it.”
The brows of the younger Rojas dip into a dark scowl. “What the fuck did you say to me? You think me and my father will tolerate that kind of disrespect?” He puffs his chest out, glaring so hard I think he might pop a blood vessel.
Arturo’s mouth splits into a grin that turns into a laugh. “We have a deal, Ace.”
“Perfect.” Ace extends a hand to seal the deal, and with a satisfied smile, Arturo accepts. “We have a deal.”
Arturo pulls out a big-ass cigar and lights it up, puffing so hard his face turns pink. “This will be a lucrative relationship for us both, of that we can all be sure.” He puffs the cigar a few more times, but his gaze lingers on me, and it’s no secret what he’s thinking. “Jake Dixon, is it?”
I nod because the fucker damn well knows my name. “My friends call me Dix.”
“Tell me, Mr. Dixon, how do you know my daughter, Valentina?” His gaze might look calm and casual, but his dark eyes sharpen on me, searching for something.
“I met her in Costa Rica a couple of years ago, but I knew her as Maria. We were both in the hotel bar waiting for people who never showed up. We flirted over a couple drinks and then went our separate ways.”
It’s mostly the truth, and I keep my gaze on him to sell the lie.
“And that is all?”
I nod. “I wasn’t there to have a good time. Unfortunately.”
His expression darkens, but he remains silent.
Too bad his son doesn’t show the same restraint. “You’re full of shit. I saw the way you looked at her.”
“How did I look at her, fuck face?”
Benedicto steps forward, a challenging look in his eyes. “You were looking at her like she was your next meal. Don't try to deny it.”
The father holds up a hand to stop his son from getting any closer. “Bene, that's enough. Mr. Dixon, I appreciate your honesty about your encounter with Valentina. However, I must ask, are you currently seeing her?”
I hesitate for a moment, trying to find the right lie. “What? No! I met her two years ago and haven’t seen her until we met up with you fuckers a few days ago.”
Arturo studies me for a moment, then nods. “Very well. I'll take your word for it.”
“Thank you,” I scoff, trying to hide my relief. I wait for the old man or his son to warn me off Valentina, to threaten my manhood, but those words never come.
“The first payment will arrive in the morning. Look for it in the account your man set up, then the first shipment will arrive by the end of the week. Be prepared.”
With those words, Arturo stands and his bodyguards advance, a clear sign that we’ve been dismissed.
We take the elevator down, and I wonder which suite Valentina is in. What she’s doing right now. Is she thinking of me? Replaying how she came all over my cock in the bar bathroom?