Yeah, none of us buys off-the-rack. It’s not snobbery. It’s practicality. Retail just doesn’t fit. To have coats that cover our broad backs and long torsos would mean trousers that would look like clown pants on us. If we bought pants that fit, the suit coats wouldn’t fit across one shoulder.
My cousin poked around and learned there was more to Lorenzo’s proposed deal thanPapádiscovered. Lorenzo was getting into mining too. Copper and gold are major Peruvian exports. He was going to use the mines as a cover for the labs. Probably blow up half the Andes.
The Mancinellis definitely don’t have the sort of people working for them who know what they’re doing in a lab condition like that. They’ve practically set the fucking Amazon on fire before when they’ve had labs blow up. There are volatile ingredients involved in making our product.
Lorenzo’s little incursion into western South America ends today.
He believes he’s meeting with a buyer who wants to invest in his doomed endeavor. I’ve put in a shit ton of work over the past couple months to set this up. I’ve triple and quadruple checked my work to ensure he hasn’t guessed I’m behind all this.
It’s no secret Flora and I are involved, and it’s no secret I’m the one who got her away from Mason Harrison. I’ve been fucking the Mancinellis over small time just to keep them on their toes and pissed off. Now we’re moving onto the big leagues.
We’re meeting in Boston. The Mexican cartel up here understands just how badly they fucked up coming down to NYC and stepping on my toes. They exist just like any other cartel in the States becauseTíoEnrique allows it.
We don’t have a substantial Colombian community in Boston compared to NYC, so it’s the Mexicans who’ve emerged up here. It doesn’t mean it’s a fucking free for all. They know their ultimate allegiance is to mytíoif they want to survive. They know they shit the bed, and they know they’ll be repaying their debt for alongtime.
Felipe Iglesias is one wrong move away from death. He understands that after my visit up here. I beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Put him in the hospital for three weeks. Intensive care. The pleasure was all mine. Now he’s making his first installment by hosting this little tête-à-tête with Lorenzo.
“El Tigre, everything is how you wanted.”
Felipe’s difficult to understand since his jaw isn’t healed fully from my breaking both sides. He’s also waiting on some dental work. I believe it’s a bridge and three crowns. He has at least one false tooth now. A baseball bat to the face a few times will do that.
“Thank you.”
He limps away as I look around. My cousins are strategically placed around the restaurant where we’re meeting. I chose a public place, so Lorenzo has to behave. He’s the most unflappable one in his family. He’s the hardest to rile, but when he’s pissed…
I can’t help but laugh thinking about it. He’s going to have a tantrum tonight the likes of which only a cranky two-year-old could match. By then, it’ll be more than a meeting not going his way that’ll have him throwing his toys and stomping his feet.
Felipe brokered this meeting and made sure the restaurant staff understands they’ll be paid well to stay away from our table once Lorenzo and I sit down. He has men scattered around the block as well. I’m certain Lorenzo demanded that too, but I’ll take credit for making it happen.
I usually hate having my back to the door, but I’m having a flair for the dramatic tonight. Let his pathetic ass walk around the table to see who he’s meeting.Tres J’sare in position to signal me if something goes wrong. Alejandro can slip out of the crowded space if he needs to get away. He’s next in line to inherit after me, so one of us has to survive. He also knows what needs to be done after this meeting to keep the plan going.
“Él está aquí.” He’s here.
It’s Jorge’s voice in my ear as I look in my cousin’s direction. He flashes me the same grin he’s had since he was a toddler. He’s the baby of the family, so I was super protective of him until he knocked me out in the boxing ring when he was fifteen and I was nineteen. After that, I learned just how deceptive that smile can be. Never mind all the times he stole my dessert with that smile.
Lorenzo knows he’s meeting a Latino, so my dark hair and olive skin won’t be a surprise. I’m not worried about him guessing before he has to turn to face me.Tres J’sblend into the crowd in this Mexican restaurant since they’re in jeans and t-shirts for this. I’m the only one dressed in our usual uniform—dark suit, dark shirt, dark tie. I prefer gray tones for my suits and shades of silver or midnight blue for my shirts and ties. Lorenzo likes beige. Suits thependejo.
When in Rome.
Caremondain Colombia. Penis face.
“Here we are, sir.” The waiter shows Lorenzo to his seat.
“Thank you.” Lorenzo keeps his voice down as he walks past my right shoulder.
“Buonasera, faccia de cazzo.” Good evening, testicle face.
“What the fuck, Pablo? Find your own deal. You’re not muscling in on this.”
“Too late. Sit.”
Lorenzo glowers at me before sweeping his gaze around the restaurant to make sure he’s not drawing more attention thanhis good looks normally do. The two of us together is already getting stares. It’s obvious we’re both grossly rich, and I’m no troll.
“Pablo—”
“No. In this little come to Jesus, I’m reading the Gospel tonight. Sit.”
I gesture to the chair, and he pulls it out as he unbuttons his suit coat. He leans forward enough to ensure I see his gun under his arm. Big fucking deal. I have my shoulder holsters on with a gun under each arm. His balls are not bigger than mine.
