Dangerous Stranger - Piper Stone Page 0,3

they pulled their vehicle into one of the parking spots. At this point, their presence inside wasn’t needed, the danger level low. Even a bloodsucking pig like Alviro Calleja wouldn’t dare attempt to assassinate the son of a mafia leader.

Or there would be hell to pay.

I was a man who appreciated the aspect of consequences, atonement for the dark and ugly sins of the trade. In my mind there should always be honor, even among opposing organizations, but that wasn’t always the case. I knew this meeting could potentially prove my point.

I didn’t bother buttoning my suit jacket, merely sliding the key fob into my pocket and heading to the door.

Enemies.

My family had far too many, the kind of people who’d forgotten about humanity. Our adversaries were ruthless in every manner, but not nearly as merciless as anyone from the Galicia mafia, of which my father had been the head for decades. Our family had been the ultimate power within Spain, driving the course of both criminal and legitimate business activities in our organization with an iron fist. It was insanity to cross us.

But someone had.

And one day, the monster would face my wrath personally.

Death was a part of my world, the grim reaper hungry for souls damned by their vicious, primal nature. I was no different than anyone else in the business. I would meet my maker soon enough and there was no doubt I’d spend eternity enslaved in hell.

Death.

Exactly what I deserved, but not on this day.

Just before I walked inside, the crisp blue sky drew my attention. This was certainly a beautiful late afternoon, the warm breezes wafting the scent of jasmine and other flowers across my nose. I was surprised I was in such a good mood, especially given the job at hand. One of my soldiers had gotten wind that the second in command of the Los Charlines clan had actually stepped foot into one of the Santiago establishments requesting to speak with me. The asshole was either a fool or prepared to die.

However, I wouldn’t put anything past the new and very brutal leader of the Los Charlines.

My father had insisted that I honor the original terms that had been established with the Los Charlines clan, an agreement that had been made with the previous leader. The repugnant man had been gunned down by members of the Portuguese policia, although rumors had flown immediately about the person behind the assassination, a member of his own organization.

From all accounts, Calleja had risen from the very depths of hell, demanding respect from the various soldiers even before the former leader was dead and buried. He was a nobody before and in my mind was nothing but a rat in a cage.

I knew enough about Alviro Calleja to realize that he was little more than a pig. Reported to be of Sicilian and Portuguese descent, his love of playing games had been well documented. He was a man with no conscience, kidnapping and murder considered his mild tactics. It would be interesting to finally meet him in person one day, especially given the secrecy regarding his identity. The thought was amusing.

His second in command was just as barbaric; Manuel Peron little more than a thug, incapable of reasoning. Why send him for a conversation? He was in charge of the soldiers, his brutality almost as well known as the man he worked for. Something smelled of deceit and lies. While I’d honor my father’s wishes for now, allowing the man to walk out unharmed, I was certainly prepared for any situation.

The double doors just inside opened up to a stunning atrium, the wooden floors polished to perfection. Even the bar itself was a thing of beauty, the two-hundred-year-old wood salvaged from a wrecked pirate ship. As I walked by, I brushed my fingers over the smooth surface, savoring the way the lacquered finish felt against my skin.

“Mr. Santiago,” the bartender said as she inched closer to the edge. “Such a pleasure to see you again, sir. Your usual?”

Her tone was sultry, suiting her voluptuous body with curves that simply wouldn’t stop. Even the crimson dress she was wearing made my mouth water, although I’d never touch the merchandise. After all, my family owned over fifty percent of the business, a fact that wasn’t well known. We never mixed business with pleasure.

“Why not?” I drummed my fingers on the table, scanning the room as she gave me a provocative nod, moving off to prepare my cocktail of choice.