Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Some of it was instinctual.
Some of it was bred.
Some of it was learned.
Most of it was bullshit.
“Your father was telling me that you’re going to be taking over soon. You think you can handle it?”
“Handle it?” I questioned, smiling. Leaning back, I reached down to grab my dick. “I'll handle it like I handle my fucking cock. Assertive.”
My dad chuckled, sitting back with his arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face.
Antonio jerked back, clearing his throat from my brutal honest response. Stammering, “I’m just saying… that’s quite an accomplishment for someone so young.”
“I’m just saying,” I mocked in a condescending tone. “If I wanted your fucking opinion, I'd ask for it.”
“I—”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply, grabbing the folder that was sitting in front of him. I went over his proposal and leaned back into my chair, flicking the documents in his direction. Scoffing out, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with these? Wipe my ass with them?”
“That’s the best I can do. We’re taking a huge risk transporting that amount of cocaine into the U.S. It’s going to cost you. I need to protect my men.”
“Huh? Did you feel that?” I sat forward. “I actually almost gave a flying fuck about your men or your risks. Do I need to remind you that you work for me? Not the other way around. You don’t set the rules, I do. When I say I need something, and I mean anything, including what the price per kilo will be, then you go and fetch, doggie.”
He slammed his closed fist on the table, rattling the glasses. “I am the best! How dare you?!” Fury written all over his face.
“That's nice, now be a good boy and use your inside voice.” Cocking my head to the side. “I know people who can make your life easier, or they can make it harder. I can slam my fists on tables too, like a fucking pussy. Want to see who can make it move more?” I threatened. “Now, if you could so kindly tell your goons to lower the guns that are pointing at me and my father under the table, I would really fucking appreciate it.”
His eyes narrowed, giving me a smug look before nodding to his men. They retracted their weapons and placed them on the table.
“Gentleman,” I declared, setting my elbows on the table with my hands in a prayer gesture. “We're not here to argue. I'm simply explaining why I'm right. Either you make it happen, Antonio, or you can go suck the dick you rode in on. Your choice.”
I could feel my father’s pride radiating off of him, burning a hole in my side. He slapped my shoulder and laughed, adding, “And that’s how he handles it, Antonio.”
Antonio instantly stood, the chair scrapping across the hardwood floor.
Facial expressions always revealed a lot about a person. Feelings truly were a bitch to hide. Energy of any form was communicated through a person’s gaze. In this line of business, it was all about looking for the signs.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
The longer you were around someone, the more you learned about them. You never even had to know their goddamn name.
“I’ll have a new proposal drawn up,” he caved, exactly how I knew he would.
“Great, now go lay down by your bowl,” I ridiculed, enjoying every fucking second of it.
He stood taller, inhaling deeply.
I smiled not paying him any mind, nodding toward the door for them to get the fuck out of my face. He understood my silent order and left without so much as another word.
“Well, nice to see you too, hijo,” Dad’s voice boomed, bringing my attention to him.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, ignoring his endearment. I stood, grabbing his glass.
It was tradition to have a drink together after a business meeting, especially one that went in our favor. Turning my back to him, I made my way over to his wet bar at the other end of the room, pouring two glasses of scotch.
“I’m getting old, Alejandro. Your mother’s death… it’s… taken a toll on me. I know you will make me proud, carrying on the Martinez name. You’ve done well, hijo. They’re already calling you El Diablo, The Devil. Twenty years old and already fucking feared. I couldn’t be more pleased to call you my son.”
The mere mention of my mother made me physically cringe, knowing the truth. I took in his words, turning with our drinks in hand, before walking back over to him again. I set his drink down in front of him, taking my seat at the other side of the table. Exactly where Antonio was sitting only minutes ago, causing him to narrow his eyes at me. It was the first time in all these years I ever sat parallel to him.