Page 96 of Savage Heart

Fang growled, glaring at the phone. “Shut the fuck up about my woman. This isn’t what this is about,hermano,” he sneered the last word. “Stop wasting our time. You wanted this call, so fucking talk.”

There was a heavy sigh, then, “Fine. Odin, I assume you and the rest of the merry band are there.”

Odin grunted, and it was Grimm’s turn to glare at the phone.

What the fuck was this all about? Why had Jorge fucking Calderone called a meeting with the officers of the SavageRaiders MC? No matter what it was, it wouldn’t be good. Nothing ever was when it involved Colombian drug lords.

“A man of few words, I see,” Jorge said, his voice mocking.

Fuck, he hated the arrogant asshole, but they were tied to him and his organization through Fang, so he couldn’t hunt him down and rip hit tongue out like he wanted to.

“Get the fuck to it, Calderone, I ain’t got all day.” The call had only been connected for five minutes, and already Odin was done. Matter of fact, looking at the tight, pinched faces around the table, all of the brothers were done. But they couldn’tnothear what the ball sack had to say.

“There has been chatter lately, a lot of it, between the Mendozas and the Medevs. After you killed their brigadier, they’re out for blood, but because they do not have the full backing of the Bratva in Moscow, they don’t have the manpower and firepower to take you and your allies on. So, they are seeking an alliance. Mendoza is holding out, though, waiting on something they’re cooking up with the Rosettis. They’re being careful, which is bad for everyone,hermanos. This would be a good time to shore up your allies, see who is on your side. Strengthen what you have already built.”

Not only was the Calderone Cartel an ally of the Savage Raiders, so were the Stonecutters MC in Kingman, AZ, and a number of mercenaries, moonlighting as protection agents at SPI. Also, if you consider them owing the Raiders a favor, the Chavez Cartel, run by Manuello Chavez, was also on speed dial. If it came down to numbers of men and bullets, the Medevs were fucked.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” Hell Hound commented before taking a swig from the flask he kept in the inside pocket of his kutte. “We’ve got the cash.” The man looked like death warmed over. As the club Treasurer, he kept long hours, making sure the money from all the different points ofincome was coming in and in the correct amounts. It was a difficult job, especially for one person, but he refused to let anyone else have access. Odin didn’t like it, but they all trusted Hound to keep things tight and make sure the extortionate amount of taxes were paid every year. Hound kept the club off the government radar, and made sure the club donated to local and national charities regularly.

“Itisa problem for you, because that chatter also included serious talk about forming an alliance of their own, through marriage. And not everyone is looking for an easy pay day,cabrone.”

“And I take it you are one of those people?” Fang asked, skepticism in his tone.

So…Calderone wasn’t looking for cash, but his mention of a marriage alliance between the Italians and Mendozas wasn’t just off the cuff. He was leading up to something, Grimm could feel it in his bones. Something like an itch began in his chest, making him clear his throat. The itching expanded into his neck and to the back of his skull. What the hell?

“I feel sorry for whoever they force into marrying one of those Italian fucks—the Russians are bad enough,” Trouble snarled, probably remembering his woman’s most recent kidnapping by Danil Oblek.

There was silence on the other end of the line, as though Jorge had hit the mute button. Finally, he spoke, “The Mendozas are still without a princess to offer. They want my daughter, my Preciosa, whom they believe still belongs to the Family.”

Unbidden, flashes of stunning green eyes, flawless toffee skin, and lush curves exploded through his mind. Preciosa Dominguez.

Fuck.

“Wait,” Odin interjected, “when the hell did she become your daughter? Not even a year ago, she was an orphan.”

Fang grumbled, “He adopted her.”

Grimm, surprised as fuck, flinched.

“Say again?” he demanded, swearing he couldn’t have heard Fang right.

“She was without family, in my care, and in need of protection. My wife and I adore her, and wish only to see her thrive.”

“Bullshit,” Fang spat. “You knew you could only get her inheritance if she were legally your ward. Since she isn’t 21 yet, that makes you the executor of her trust fund.”

Jorge chuckled darkly. “You have me all figured out, eh,hermano? Doesn’t matter why, it only matters that the Mendozas feel like they were cheated out of their prize, and they want her to use in their negotiations.”

“What’s that got to do with us? Keep her in Colombia, keep her under lock and key,” Odin remarked.

“No. She is twenty years old, I cannot keep her locked away like somealondra, a pretty little lark. And that will only work so long, anyway. Eventually, she will need to marry, have children, live the life she’d been trained for since she was five years old.”

Trained? Goddamn, the Cartels were gross.

“She was trained to be a wife?” Hawk asked, his disgust plain on his face.

“All daughters within the Families are,” Fang offered, his own expression one of displeasure.

“Trained how?” AFK asked.

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