Page 29 of Devil's Bride

“One hour and I address the soldiers and make a decision. One hour.”

Men like my father continued to control every aspect of Spain and beyond. There were those who’d say I was wrong, but I’d grown up with the hierarchy, criminal power pulling the strings of every supposed decent, law-abiding citizen in Barcelona and Madrid. My father had once controlled a significant share of both legal and illegal activities, but over the years his significant hold had decreased. He’d blamed it on evolution, but it was all about who was the stronger dog in the fight. He’d been at a disadvantage from early on. With no stable of heirs, young men to follow in his footsteps, he was considered weaker than other syndicate leaders.

However, he’d amassed a fortune, including in connections.

Yet my father had played the part, wearing his suit like armor while wielding a firm hand in all aspects of business. I’d always thought him one of the most handsome men in the world.

In holding his bloodied and broken body in my arms, I’d been forced to look past my childhood fantasy that he was the most powerful man in the world to the reality.

We were all on borrowed time, the business of brutal welfare not only aging him, but also costing him the woman he’d loved and his life.

Emiliano opened his mouth as if to counter my decision but thought better of it. After nodding, he walked out and once again, I was left alone.

Very much alone.

My father had built an entire compound enclosed within the gated property. While the house and outbuildings were positioned on one side of the fifty or so acres my father had acquired, there were other buildings where certain aspects of his business were handled. In addition, he’d accepted my suggestion of branching out only a few years before, purchasing a commercial building in Barcelona where my newly acquired office was.

Jeeps were used to transport men between destinations, Antonio grabbing one and driving Emiliano and me toward what my father had called a training facility. As children, we’d never been allowed to venture to this side of the property and I’d certainly never been allowed in the buildings.

I’d learned much later in my life that while certain aspects of training were handled in several of the buildings as well as product control, punishment was also doled out when necessary.

That’s why the stench of body odor and blood immediately assaulted my senses when I walked in. As inappropriate as it was, as I headed into what felt like a lion’s den with fresh blood covering me, my thoughts drifted to Jago.

He was without a doubt a formidable man, but he was also extremely sexy. Just being within a few feet of him had causedmy heart to flutter. While his heated gaze had hardened the moment I’d initiated a challenge, I’d also captured a crystal-clear vision of his thoughts.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

Not that I hadn’t experienced a few feelings of my own, but Jago’s obvious assumption I was easy to push aside should have driven my thoughts into a wastebasket.

It was fascinating how they’d surfaced again after walking into yet another difficult situation. I’d been supplied with a basic list of reported Torres holdings and at least a few verified locations of his warehouses. I had no intention of starting a war, but providing a statement to support what Jago had heard from my lips would go a long way with earning respect from my soldiers.

At least that’s what I hoped.

Only I sensed immediately the uphill battle would continue.

There were forty or so soldiers awaiting my arrival. Every one of them had a scowl on their face as if I was the clear and dangerous enemy. Even Antonio remained tense as he’d been since rattling off possibilities where a decent and successful strike could be performed. This was all about a message sent to Jago, but he’d acted as if there was no chance at success.

Maybe there wasn’t, but I wouldn’t be content without trying.

God, I was in way over my head.

A wave of fear unlike anything I’d felt threatened to tear me apart.

Never let them see you sweat.

It was something else I’d been taught, but the words were meant for standing in front of a difficult witness or unruly criminal, not men who could carve me up and eat me for breakfast without batting an eye.

I’d tossed clothes from my suitcases on my bed until I’d found something suitable to wear. I’d taken a clue from Emiliano, choosing dark jeans, a black shirt, and black chunky boots instead of heels. I’d stared at myself in the mirror, finally heading to my father’s safe where I’d selected a weapon to carry. I’d been taught at an early age how to shoot using various weapons. That had been at my father’s insistence. Had I been forced to brandish a gun let alone pull the trigger since then?

Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

Maybe it was a prop, but I felt safer having it positioned in a shoulder holster that felt suffocating. The men didn’t move when I walked in, at least at first. It took me coming closer, standing within inches of two different men I’d yet to meet for the group to part almost like the Red Sea.

Images of the analogy squelched a few of my nerves, but certainly not all.

With so much at stake, I couldn’t waste time with many formalities. At least every man remained quiet, so much so the silence was even more unnerving.

When I noticed Marco standing in the rear of the group, the same heated venom in his eyes, I didn’t allow anyone to realize I was wishing for my kid brother again. The one who’d enjoyed playing football in the backyard, even fishing with my father. That had been their thing until Marco had deemed it childish.

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