Page 8 of Ruthless Rival

“What is it?” I asked once I answered.

“Your father just arranged a meeting for tomorrow with some of our family,” Ignacio told me in a hushed voice. He was probably in a different room from some of the cartel members.

“A meeting for what?” I questioned him, wondering what my father was up to now.

“He wants to talk about next moves,” Ignacio replied. “What happened with Carlos sent your father into a rage. He wants revenge against the Mancinis.”

I almost laughed. My father wanted revenge now. He didn’t know how it felt to be wronged like he’d wronged me. As sad as I was about what happened to my brother, he made his choice to be part of that plan. He knew the danger. My babies didn’t deserve to be taken away from their mother.

“Send me the details,” I said, determination washing over me like a wave. I saw an opening to make my stand against my father and the rest of the Castillo family, who’d wronged me for years and didn’t care to help me when I was down.

“Why? Are you coming?” Ignacio asked, sounding shocked.

“It’s time for me to pay my dear family a visit. Don’t you think?” I replied with a faint smirk on my face. I had visited Carlos several times since he’d been in the hospital and luckily, I hadn’t run into my father or his loyal pack.

“I think you’re crazy,” Ignacio said before chuckling lightly. “But it’ll be nice to see you again, prima.”

“I appreciate all of your help, Ignacio. You’re one of the few good ones,” I told him in a sincere voice. Things would be a lot harder and a lot lonelier for me if not for him having my back.

“I believe in you,” Ignacio replied. “But you must be careful. Tension is high with Carlos being injured.”

“My father is the only person who needs to feel fear,” I assured him. “I’ll see you soon.”

I hung up the phone and peered at myself in the bathroom mirror, studying the woman in front of me. She was bold. Strong. Determined. Everything I never was before. It was a shame it took my life being ruined for me to grow into this person. My younger self would have admired her.

Tearing my eyes away from the mirror, I faced the bathroom door, preparing to put my mask back on before returning to my friends. They didn’t know how close to the verge of shattering I was each and every second. I didn’t even realize it until my emotions surged and I got a look at how dark of a place I lived in almost every day.

Chapter Four:A Gamble

Alberto

Getting the governor on our payroll would take a little time and finessing, so I had been working on a new project I’d had in mind for a while. There were casinos in New Orleans that were big money makers. A lot of cash flowed left and right. It could be easy for a few numbers to get mixed up in the process. My sons and I had discussed this several times over the last months and we were finally ready to put it all into motion.

“I have to insist that you work with us,” I told Martin, the owner of Gulf View Casino, as Adriano and I sat in his office.

“You’re wanting to put slot machines in my casino and skim money off the top of my profits. Why would I work with you?” Martin scoffed. He was an older, balding man with prominent crow’s feet and a lanky body beneath his dark blue suit.

I figured he would say that. Businessmen were so stubborn, but I knew how to sway them. They wanted something in return. That was how a good business arrangement worked. “We’d take the money before you reported the earnings. You’ll save on taxes,” I replied. “And I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the cartel is making their move on New Orleans. I’m sure you’d like protection from their group of thugs.”

Martin glanced away warily. “The cartel?” he asked.

“They’ve caused violence and destruction all throughout the city,” Adriano informed him as he sat up straight and firm in his seat.

Damn, he reminded me so much of myself. Driven. Focused. Ambitious.

“I hope you’re not looking for a guaranteed amount every month?” Martin glanced between us. “I can’t dictate how often these drunks shove a coin into a slot machine per month.”

“We only want the money from the slot machines,” I assured him. They were an easy form of passive income. All I had to do was keep the slot machines working, protect the casino from damage and Martin from danger when it came to the cartel. It would take a while for the cartel to realize we were working with the casino anyway.

Martin let out a sigh as he stood and walked over to the window behind his desk, peering out at the restless city of New Orleans. “Any way you can sweeten the pot for me? Seems like a lot of risk on my part since there’s no extra money coming my way. I have to hide this money from ever being counted officially with the rest.”

Adriano glanced over at me. I nodded, giving him a shot to make a call. He turned back to Martin. “You can take five percent of the earnings from the slot machines and pocket it,” he said.

I subtly grinned to myself.That’s my boy.

“Only five percent?” Martin questioned as he turned to face Adriano, looking offended.

“A single slot machine can make around $7,000 dollars every month,” Adriano explained. “We plan to install five slot machines in your casino. That would mean you could make around 1,700 a month. Right into your pocket. No tax.”

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