Enslaved (Colombian Cartel #6) - Suzanne Steele Page 0,54

he damn sure didn’t need anymore.

Chapter Thirty Four

Antonio Wayne swirled the high-dollar bourbon in his brandy snifter. The shape of the glass helped to concentrate the aroma, which added to the experience. He sat in an antique chair with a high back that made it look more like it was a throne fit for a king. His legs were stretched out on a matching ottoman. He was barefoot and dressed in nothing but the slacks he’d been wearing that day. His raven black hair was disarrayed and fell over one eye. He was unsettled, and he didn’t know why. Somehow it all worked together to give him a look that was sexy as hell, and if his wife hadn’t been asleep, she’d have been fucking his brains out because he looked so good. He watched his wife sleep as he pondered what was causing him to feel so disturbed. His phone ringing confirmed what he already knew: something had happened.

“Yeah?”

Mano ran his hands through his hair again out of nervousness. Dealing with Antonio Wayne was not something he wanted to do.

“I’ve got problems.”

“You mean we have problems?” Antonio Wayne answered.

“Don’t think you’re in on this one, boss.” Maybe Mano could salvage his own ass by manning up and taking the blame. Surely Antonio Wayne would respect that—he hoped.

“Just spit it out, bro.” Antonio finished off the bourbon and got up and poured three fingers into his snifter—he could already tell he was going to need it. He was pleased his gut was still leading him in the right direction. Any boss needed that to keep things running smoothly. He wasn’t pleased Mano was hem-hawing around about what the real issue was. He did understand any of his men who had a fucking brain were scared shitless of him—so it was as it should be in Antonio Wayne’s world.

“Page got kidnapped.”

“Mm, hmm, and…”

Mano resisted the urge to feverously rub his hands through his hair. These fucking brothers were crazy. One day it was ‘all good,’ and the next, they were blowing up houses and cutting off body parts with Colombian truth serum—an electric saw.

“Look, Antonio, I have no idea, but if I had to guess, I’d say she made herself available to be kidnapped.” There. It was out.

Antonio smiled, and though Mano had no idea what he was thinking, Antonio was intrigued by the fact Mano was dealing with a crazy bitch. This woman might be beneficial to the cartel with all her lunacy. Mano had his hands full, no doubt. Ironic. Mano was dealing with a woman who had a voice. Howbeit ‘that voice’ better not say anything about him.

“And why would she make herself available to a madman who is killing fixers?” Antonio was going to draw this shit out; make Mano squirm. It was the ultimate mindfuck to ensure he scared the shit out of Mano. Any good boss knew you had to put your people in a predicament that forced them to be in a situation where they needed the boss of the cartel. The number one rule of any cartel boss was: using situations to make people loyal to you.

“So…” Antonio smiled, “Your woman has been kidnapped by El Loco—by choice. Why would she do something like that, Mano?”

“To prove herself to us,” he answered without hesitation.

“It amazes me how this is always the mentality of a novice—to prove themselves. To you? To me? To the world? To God? I just don’t know. What I do know is I can’t let this go. She wants to prove herself…now she has to.”

“I’ve got a tracker on her. I’m going after her tonight.”

“You’re not going alone, Mano, and you’re waiting until tomorrow night. Make him suffer lest he forget. Hard lessons learned stayed with a man throughout his lifetime. “I’ll send some boys with you. You know what needs to be done. I want this shit taken care of—permanently.”

“Bounce is wanting to do a job with me, Antonio.”

“I’ll send him and El Demente’.”

Mano wasn’t surprised when Antonio hung up. He’d said all he needed to. True to his nature Antonio was a man of few words. Now all there was to do was wait for the men to arrive and go get his woman. He knew Antonio was purposely making him sweat the next twenty-four hours. Antonio was a sadist by nature, and it went far beyond anything physical. The torment of emotional and psychological sadism was something that would stay with Mano for the rest of his