I’d returned a woman and now one with an entirely new purpose forced on me.

  When Emiliano was right behind me, I took comfort in his large frame. “What am I going to do?” I whispered, uncertain I wanted Antonio to hear anything.

  “You’re going to be your father’s daughter.”

  He didn’t need to explain the statement. I knew exactly what he was insinuating. I had to be tougher than any man, highlighting savagery without feeling remorse. I’d need to change my personality, finding my inner resolve.

  If I didn’t, I would place my remaining family in harm’s way. Not just from enemies who were waiting in the shadows like bloodthirsty vultures, but also from within. The next forty-eight hours would be a good indication of what I was facing.

  “Overtures will begin tomorrow,” Antonio said as he dared walk closer.

  “Overtures?” I tipped my head over my shoulder.

  He took a few steps closer. I sensed his tension. “Yes, ma’am. Your father had many enemies. The news about his death has already leaked.”

  “And I assume the news about my advancement will leak as well.” I had bitterness in my tone.

  “Likely, ma’am. You’re an unknown, so be prepared. There could be those who try and feel you out.”

  “Meaning what I’m willing to do. They’ll attempt to coerce me into giving them what rightfully belongs to me.” I laughed, although there was nothing funny.

  “Yes,” Emiliano answered for him. “After that, violence will begin.”

  Violence.

  “I’m a trained negotiator, gentlemen. We shall see what happens.”

  “Remember, Genevieve, the men involved in these organizations are all animals.” Antonio used my first name. On this night, I’d let it slide. Only on this night.

  At least his statement was a decent reminder.

  They were all animals and I was the fresh prey in town.

  Time to bring out my claws.

  As I stared at the fountain, praying for answers and for strength, I wondered if the girl craving to be in her father’s arms could become a ruthless leader.

  Sleep had been impossible. Every time I’d closed my eyes, a vision of my father’s bullet-ridden body invaded my mind. It felt as if my skin was stained by his blood even though I’d taken a long, hot shower, scrubbing every inch of my skin until it was almost raw. Even so, a second shower was necessary for me to feel clean.

  If that was even possible.

  “What are we going to do, sissy?” Bella asked. She remained nestled in my arms, both of us unable to sleep. I’d heard her intense sobs and they’d nearly broken me.

  The wind had increased, tossing branches against the window outside her bedroom. She was far too young to understand. She’d also been too young to remember when our mother had been killed.

  The horrible tragedy years before was something everyone in the family had tried to forget, but the memories regarding that day had come rushing back. Her death had been a direct warning, a pushback against my father and his advancement into territories that didn’t belong to him.

  Since our mother’s murder, he’d taken a more cautious approach, which up until now had quieted the tyrants waiting in the shadows. Why now? Why had my father been suddenly murdered?

  I pulled away and gripped her shoulders. “You’re going to get a shower and go downstairs and have some breakfast. Take the day to rest, but after that, we need to think about the future. I’ll be here. That much I can promise.”

  “What future?”

  “Don’t think that way, Bella. You have your entire life ahead of you.”

  “Don’t die on me, sissy. I don’t have anyone else.”

  Her quick sob almost broke my heart once again. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I squeezed her arms and nodded toward the door. While her steps were slow, she followed my directions. She was estranged from her brother and barely knew her sister any longer.

  A single tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away furiously. Not a single additional tear could be shed.

  Not one.

  I was required to be a tyrant, a true leader. Someone without a moral compass.

  It was time to look the part. That much I could do with ease.

  I headed toward my bedroom, thankful a bathroom was attached. While I showered, I made mental notes about what information I’d need provided. There were so many details, including planning the funeral, the event typically more of a celebration than anything else.

  Funerals were usually the single event that was considered hallowed ground, acts of violence not allowed. Somehow, I doubted that unwritten rules would apply. There was too much at stake.

  When I was dressed, I stood in front of my dresser mirror, studying my reflection. My cheeks appeared gaunt, my eyes full of hatred. I’d chosen a black pantsuit instead of wearing a skirt or more casual attire on purpose. Today was the day I’d make my first statement.

  No one could question my authority without facing harsh consequences.

  Another wave of sadness hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t cut out for this. On the last night in New York, I’d partied with my friends, going out to a favorite club and dancing until well after one in the morning. We’d laughed. We’d become intoxicated. I’d promised they could come visit.

  All that had been a pipe dream.

  What was left was being forced to pick up the pieces.

  Almost as soon as I walked from the room, I was confronted by Marco. Wearing dark jeans and a tight muscle tee shirt, he’d slicked back his hair, his combat boots and sheathed knife worn on his side completing the ridiculous outfit.

  Only he looked just like almost every other soldier. He wanted to be like them more than anything, including grieving his own father’s death.

  After giving me a hard look, he tried to walk by. I grabbed his arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m training today and you can’t stop me.”

  I walked closer. In my heels, we stood eye to eye. When I’d left for America, he’d been over a foot shorter and at least fifty pounds lighter. It was obvious he’d worked hard to become a carbon copy of our father, a worthy soldier.

  “While I won’t stop you from training, I will prevent you from joining the army.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I’m your sister and your guardian. I can and I will.”

  His sneer was something I’d remember. “You stopped being my sister the day you left us. And I’ll be eighteen soon and you won’t have a say in any aspect of my life.”

  I was shocked at the level of hurt in his voice and the sadness in his eyes. But as soon as he let his guard down, the shield went back up. The thick armor terrified me almost as much as the damning situation. My brother had no true understanding of the life he so desperately wanted to live.

  He didn’t allow me time to refute his statement or offer any comfort, storming away as he’d done the night before. His heavy footsteps on the stairs were just another stark reminder he would soon be an adult.

  My chest remained tight as I headed down the stairs. Almost immediately, Antonio closed the distance. In his hand was an envelope.

  “This was just delivered for you, Madame Morales.”

  As soon as I accepted it, he started to turn away.

  “This is a terrible situation, Antonio, a horrible tragedy, but we can be friends.”

  He didn’t bother turning to face me again, but his statement resonated in the darkest recesses of my mind. “The sooner you learn there is no room for friendship in this business, the better off you’ll be. Trusting anyone can get you killed.”

  I watched as he headed for the front door. My father had tried to keep his three children protected from the ugliness, but I’d learned early on remaining in the dark was dangerous. Perhaps that’s why I’d accepted the role as abogada.

  Several hitmen remained just inside the residence, their presence unnerving. I returned to my father’s office and his scent immediately hit me. Every piece of furniture and every work of art on the walls reminded me of him. The ache remained, but instead of sadness, I felt rage.

  I tore open the envelope just as Emiliano walked into the room.

  “What is it?” he asked after I’d had an opportunity to read the enclosed card.

  “An invitation.”

  “From?”

  “Jago Torres.”

  “The brutal drug lord of the Torres Empire. What does he want?” His snarl meant Jago was someone I’d need to watch out for.

  “A meeting. To talk terms on our continued peace.”

  Emiliano exhaled. “And so it begins. What do you want to do?”

  “What do you know about him?” He’d kept up with the business even while living in New York.

  “What I know is that he’s considered a monster, a vicious leader with zero conscience.”

  The glint of early morning sun splashed across a photograph on my father’s credenza. I moved closer, hesitating as if by some sense of reverence before lifting the heavy frame. Five smiling faces stared back at me. Mama with Bella on her hip, Marco trying to stand as tall as possible next to our father, and me crouched on one knee, my long arms outstretched. It was as if I was welcoming the world to our little family.

  We’d been happy, finally going on the vacation my mother had bugged Papa about for months. He’d always been too busy. The ache in my stomach swelled.

  Less than two months after it was taken, my entire world had shattered.

  There were no recent pictures. After the tragedy with our mother, our father had refused to allow our photographs to be taken in public. We’d gone to private schools or been homeschooled. We’d had few friends and never attended banquets or balls. Even in privacy he’d opted to forgo portraying the happiness experienced inside the household. It was just another weakness to be used by an enemy.

  “Daddy, I love you. I’ll do everything I can to make you proud.”

  Very gently I eased the picture back to its original position, rubbing a single finger across the top of the frame before answering. “Why not see what this brutal leader has to offer? Make the arrangements. Tonight. Seven p.m. There will be no other time allowed and I will go to him. Is that understood, Emiliano?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, I turned all the way around to face him.

  If my commander had any weakness, it was his inability to mask his emotions. He was surprised as well as concerned, but he’d known me long enough to know when my mind couldn’t be changed.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Jago

  “It would seem Genevieve Morales accepted your kind invitation.” Navarro Delgado was my commander, a man I’d known for years and perhaps the most vicious soldier I’d ever worked with. He and I had trained together, my father harsher on both of us than many of the others. He had a watchful eye, a proclivity for violence, and dark cravings for sexual relations. He was the perfect blend of being emotionless while born without a conscience.

  Yet I could tell by the look in his eyes he was holding something back. He was also ready to burst into laughter, my soldier shifting something back and forth from hand to hand.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t think Ms. Morales will be the pushover we all believed she’d be.”

  “Why is that?”

  “She wrote the acceptance note herself, at least according to the goon who had it delivered. He was none too happy when he shoved it personally into my hand. I almost cut the bastard.” He walked toward me, still wearing an amused if not slightly annoyed expression.

  “Did you read it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then why do you believe she’ll be a ballbuster?”

  “Just a feeling.”

  I snatched it from his hand, turning around to read her response in private. The envelope was sealed and I’ll be damned if I didn’t detect a hint of perfume. I pulled it under my nostrils and almost immediately felt an unexpected twinge in my groin. The fragrance was familiar.

  With the flap torn free, I tugged the card from inside. Her words were straightforward, even blunt. Only her use of cursive writing indicated any softness.

  Mr. Torres

  As you might imagine, my family is in mourning and there is much work to be done. However, I will accept your offer if my conditions are met. We will have the meeting tonight at seven sharp. I will come to your home for our discussion. I will be accompanied by several of my men. If this is acceptable, have one of your men send me an email with your address and affirmation. Please note, you will not be provided with another opportunity should this one not be acceptable.

  Madame Morales

  Her email address was listed underneath.

  Genevieve.

  I could imagine how softly the syllables would roll off my tongue when spoken.

  As soon as I finished her reply, not only did I smile, but my aroused cock pressed against my trousers. There was something priceless about a woman with spunk. Perhaps because I was used to dealing with girls who fawned all over me, longing for attention and their share of fame.

  “What did she say?” Navarro asked.

  “You were right. She’s going to be difficult, but I’ll take pleasure in breaking her resolve. We’re having guests tonight. Have the staff ready the entertainment facility and have a discussion with our chef about preparing a special meal.”

  “You’re not seriously thinking about inviting her to the estate.”

  “Are you questioning my authority, Navarro?” I swung around to face him.

  He threw up his hands. “No, sir.”

  “Good, because it’s too early for engaging in acts of punishment. I haven’t even had my goddamned coffee.” I pulled the envelope to my nose, drinking in the scent for a second time. I would be eager to meet Morales’ daughter. With no photographs of her anywhere I could find, I hoped to find joy in the surprise.

  “I’ll take care of the arrangements,” he stated.

  Kruz was leaning against the doorway, grinning as he always did when he sensed my irritation.

  “What do we know about Ms. Morales?” I asked. Kruz had been tasked to discover as much about her as possible, although given the lack of a social media presence or any photographs online, it would appear Mr. Morales had taken his children’s safety seriously.

  “Very little other than she was offered the position as the abogada. However, I was curious why a woman of her age had simply disappeared for a few years. Even if her father had forbidden her from going on social media, she is in her twenties.”

  A painful reminder that I was somewhat older than the girl. “And?”

  “I called in a couple favors and learned she went to law school in New York City.”

  “Really?” I was surprised a man like Julio would allow his daughter to live somewhere so far away and without his protection.

  Kruz grinned. “That’s another reason she won’t be respected by her father’s men.”

  “Very true. I can use it to my advantage.”

  “I thought you might. I heard the meeting didn’t go well last night.”

  “No, it did not. After hearing I barely missed the massacre at the restaurant, I’m wondering if the Turkish emissary had intended on killing two birds with one stone. Perhaps I foiled his attempt.”

  Spain was an interesting mixture of various crime syndicates and cartels, few of which originated in our country. Between the Italians attempting to corner the cocaine trade, the Turks with heroin, and the Romanians and Chinese embracing the slave trade market, our country was flooded with criminal activity.

  With the Grupo Especial de Operaciones, the tactical unit responsible for countering terrorism breathing down our necks, my method of operations had been forced to change over the last two years. To this day, that continued to piss me off.

  It had been another reason I’d killed one of my men without hesitation. His treachery could have brought heat to my doorstep.

  I’d hoped to broker a deal with the Turkish emissary, but it had become apparent quickly he’d accepted the meeting simply to gain information on our organization’s tactical structure. He’d been lucky I hadn’t added him to the body count.

  “Entirely possible. The Turks believe themselves to be smooth operators while stabbing you in the back,” Navarro added.

  “Yes, well, they should have learned crossing a cartel isn’t in their best interest.” I stuffed the envelope and walked to my desk. After writing her email on a sticky note, I shoved the card into my drawer. “Here is Ms. Morales’ email address. Provide her with a statement of agreement as to the arrangements and provide our address as well as our security requirements. Notify Kruz we’ll have guests tonight.”

  “I’ll handle whatever you need.” He took the sticky note, staring down at it for a full two seconds.

  “But you don’t approve.”

  “It’s not for me to approve or not approve,” Navarro wisely said.

  “Correct, but I do value your opinions.” Not that I could stop him from giving them. Navarro was rarely intimidated by my power.

  “What does your father think this can accomplish?”

  I’d mulled over the question myself. “Perhaps preventing additional scum from breaking apart our beautiful country.”

  He nodded. “Maybe so. If she agrees to you buying her out, what about her father’s men?”

  “That I haven’t decided yet.” The thought of accepting pawned-off soldiers was likely a step closer to organizational suicide. There was no such thing as loyalty, at least not beyond paychecks and the benefit of remaining alive. We weren’t a charity organization either. There weren’t pension plans and merit-based vacation days.

  You lived or died depending on your actions and reactions.