Raúl asserted himself again, drawing the focus away from Carmen and directing everyone’s ire toward our enemy. “And this fucker Miguel Armendariz is at the top of that list. He’s six minutes late. It’s a blatant insult.”
“Obviously,” I drawled, concealing my concern over the matter. “Too bad we can’t kill him when he does finally arrive.”
“We’re in agreement on that count,” he muttered grimly.
Today’s meetings were all arranged as a parlay—a bloodless opportunity to discuss the terms of my new leadership. So far, the smaller players who had come to me were early adopters of my regime. In the wake of Pedro’s destruction, the weaker members of his cartel sought to ingratiate themselves with me by pledging loyalty quickly and fervently.
Armendariz’s agreement to meet today had been a surprise. He was one of Pedro’s most loyal, powerful associates. If a rabid dog could be considered powerful. I supposed if the beast was vicious enough, others would keep a respectful distance out of fear. Pedro had kept him close, but only to prevent Armendariz from going for his throat instead.
A knock at the library door signaled my enemy’s arrival. I nodded to Daniel Vera, the weakest associate in the room. Although in most places, the young man would be treated with deference and even fear, he had barely garnered an invitation to be at these meetings. I had little respect for pampered heirs who inherited their father’s wealth and power, but Daniel possessed sufficient resources to be included in today’s important proceedings.
That didn’t mean I’d deign to give him any more responsibilities than serving as a glorified guard at the door. He would need to do more than grow a patchy beard and wear an expensive suit to earn the right to speak with the adults.
I glanced over at my staunchest ally, taking a quick perusal of Raúl’s mood. His harsh features were set in stony anger, his prominent brow giving him an aura of primitive danger. The insult of Armendariz’s tardiness provoked his ire, and I was pleased with his response.
Raúl might reveal his emotions too easily, but I found his darkly intimidating visage to be an effective, unsettling counterbalance to my jovial façade. He was a sledgehammer to the face, whereas I was a knife in the back. Despite our differing methodologies, we were both equally deadly, and our chilling dynamic would serve us well against our enemy.
Daniel opened the library door and ushered Armendariz inside. None of my associates said a word to him, all waiting to see how I would handle the situation. I didn’t stand to greet him or shake his hand, deliberately returning his insult in kind.
“Miguel,” I greeted with warm delight, gesturing for him to sit in the straight-backed, wooden chair directly across from me. “So wonderful to see you, my friend. Thank you for graciously accepting my invitation on such short notice.”
The truth was that I’d expected him to ignore my invitation; I had anticipated that he would be one of the first to rally Ronaldo’s men against me.
He hesitated, scowling at the chair I offered.
“You seem uncomfortable,” I remarked, ever the concerned host. “Your journey must have been very taxing, considering all the delays. Of course, it’s unthinkable that I would offer you that chair. Please, sit wherever you will be most comfortable. I know older gentlemen like yourself can suffer aches and pains after a long day of travel. Can I offer you a drink to help you relax?”
With each snide insult I delivered, Armendariz’s craggy face turned a deeper shade of red. He was only about a decade older than me—somewhere in his mid-forties—but his skin was weathered and leathery. Apparently, he enjoyed his time outside at his beachfront property. Years under the sun had taken their toll on his complexion.
“I didn’t come here to have a drink with you, motherfucker.”
I grinned as he cursed me. I would actually welcome the violence if he turned feral. That would give me the excuse to take him out early.
But unless he attacked first, the terms of this meeting stipulated that I allow him to leave unharmed, no matter what he said. If I murdered him in cold blood when we had called a temporary truce, no one else would risk answering my call for loyalty.
“Maybe some water, then?” I suggested. “You look…” I allowed my gaze to linger over every wrinkle on his face before I finished, “parched.”
Perhaps I could provoke him to attack me. Armendariz was notoriously quick to anger, whereas my violence was carefully calculated and never committed on emotional impulse.
In my peripheral vision, I noted that Raúl shifted in his seat, preparing to meet an attack if Armendariz snapped. Between my brutal associate and myself, Armendariz didn’t have a hope of walking out of here alive.
“I came here to make a deal with you,” he forced through gritted teeth, his body coiled tight with barely suppressed violence. “I will not stay if you continue to insult me.”